Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

"That slippery little shit.I'm going to kill him myself."

I took the stairs two at a time, cursing my brother's mate the whole way. He was supposed to wait. I'd literally been on the phone for like two minutes, and he decided he should just take off on his own.

Fine. Okay. Maybe this was my fault. I was the one who suggested we go to get the drive. Really, I brought this on myself.

Scuffling on the second-floor landing made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and I raced up the last stairs.

"Shit. No."

Rounding the last corner, I saw two guys hustling down the stairs at the other end of the hallway. The larger of the two had an unconscious Felix slung over his shoulder.

"Hey, asshole," I yelled, reaching for Betty, my favorite Beretta that I'd grabbed from the garage and shoved into my waistband. My finger hesitated on the trigger. I didn't want to open fire in the middle of the hall.

They didn't stop, and I put on an extra burst of speed, running down the hallway, as curious neighbors started poking their heads out of their apartments.

I hit the stairs, but the main stairwell turned sharply, and I came up hard against the wall, knocking the wind from my lungs. In the beat it took me to regain my breath, I heard the front door open. There was no way I could let these dicks put Felix in a car.

But I was too late. The second I made it to the front of the building, a nondescript black car with heavily tinted windows was pulling away from the curb. Needing to slow them down however I could, I raised my gun and fired at the car, hitting one of the rear tires. It blew, and the car careened wildly across both lanes of traffic, but the driver was almost as good as my cousin Hadrian and righted the car, driving on the flat without losing speed. Running down the thankfully quiet street, I fired two more shots. One hit the side of the car, and the other shot out the driver's-side mirror.

The car turned, and no matter how fast I ran, there was no way I was going to catch up. I had no idea where Felix was in the car. If I fired again from where I was, I risked hitting Felix through the tinted rear windshield. There was no way I could take that chance. A kidnapped Felix was better than a dead Felix.

It was a no-win situation, and I was utterly fucked.

So I did the only things I could. I memorized the license plate, reluctantly called my brother, and went back to Felix's apartment to see if I could find any other clues about where these assholes had taken him.

If Nero let me live, I planned to do everything I could to make sure Felix was safely returned to him.

Maybe one day, he'd actually forgive me if he got his mate back in one piece.

Then again, I knew my brother.

I was a dead man walking.