32. Erik

Chapter thirty-two

Erik

I wrapped my arm over Grace's shoulders as we headed inside, feeling a deep sense of victory building in my chest. My father was sitting in front of a table in the middle of the warehouse, trying to look impressive. Unfortunately for him, it was a rolling chair and some sort of old folding table they must've dug out of some closet around here. His eyes narrowed when he saw us coming, and I gave him a cocky grin.

"Father dearest!" My voice rang out through the warehouse, and he grimaced, the men on either side of him shifting subtly, waiting for his order.

"Erik," he replied sharply, and I stopped just in front of the table, watching Jesse settle on my right, Anders at my back.

"You're ready to concede?" I smirked, and he glowered at me, the muscle in his jaw clenching.

"You forced my hand, son. I either concede, or your paid goons shoot me in my bed," he bit out, his eyes cold and full of malice.

"Killing you was never the plan," I replied casually, and that was half true. It was one of the back-up plans, I hadn't been sure this plan would work out.

"You are a disgrace. What would your mother say? Usurping your own father, after all I've done for you. All of you, you ungrateful little bastards. A sane man would've rid the earth of your disease years ago. Abominations, the lot of you!" he snarled, spittle flying from his lips.

I frowned, glancing at Jesse. My father was never going to be happy about this, but his collection of weirdo children had always been his pride and joy, ever since we were little. I'd seen him have people beaten for even alluding to our abilities being freakish or wrong.

"Alright, Dad. Come on. There was almost no bloodshed, and it's always been expected that I would take over for you eventually. You can leave your position with your head held high," I told him, holding out my hands.

He stood up abruptly, his chair pitching over behind him and clattering to the floor. I shoved Grace behind me immediately and felt Anders pulling her out of harm's way.

"Dad," I warned, drawing my gun as I eyed his men warily. "You asked for a ceasefire. This can still end peacefully."

"Monster," he snarled, his eyes wide with a bizarre mixture of rage and fear. "Spawn from hell! I knew you'd be the one to kill me! I should've smothered you in the crib the day you were born!"

What the fuck is wrong with him? He looked possessed. I took a step back and he drew his gun, the men at his sides mirroring his movements.

Everything slowed down around me as adrenaline began to course through my veins. I watched as my father's men took aim, and I lifted my gun, firing two shots at them. One of them went down as Jesse grabbed the back of my shirt and threw us behind a stack of pallets. I hit the ground roughly, and everything around us suddenly exploded into chaos.

And not the fun kind.

I covered Jesse's head as a flash-bang went off somewhere to our left, and shouts sounded from across the warehouse, rapidly approaching. Motherfucker. I signed to Jesse that we needed to get the fuck out of here, and he gestured to the other side of the warehouse, where Anders had presumably taken Grace.

"I'll cover you, get to the vehicle," I signed, and he scowled at me like I was insane. "This is the fucking Alamo, we need to get out and regroup!" I ducked as a few bullets burst against the pallets above us. "GO!"

I whirled around and shot in the direction of the violence, and heard a muffled curse. When I looked back, Jesse was gone. Good boy.

Taking a few deep breaths in, I lurched into a sprint, staying low and firing haphazardly as I crossed the open space. Bullets whizzed past me, and I swore I felt one graze my ear. My luck was getting used up too fast, and I only had so much. Diving behind another stack of boxes, I caught my breath, glancing around to find the others.

Anders was crouched behind a shelving unit full of barrels, Grace's tiny form pinned between him and the shelves. I saw two guys run up toward them and lifted my gun, but Anders rose swiftly and threw up his hands. They dropped before they reached them, blood pouring out of every hole in their faces as his face twisted in concentration, stumbling back toward Grace.

"You're a DEAD MAN, KING!" A voice echoed across the room. I swore and popped my head up, firing a couple of shots toward the other end of the warehouse. Fucking Douglas, I was really starting to hate him.

"We gotta get out of here," someone hissed behind me, and I cursed and spun around, seeing no one.

"Those barrels, whatever's in them is explosive," Levy continued, and I swore again for good measure, glancing over at the two figures huddling behind them. More shots ran out, and I ducked lower, cringing.

"We need a distraction," I muttered, looking around quickly. "Think we could knock those over?" I asked, glancing up at the large set of shelves.

"I can try," Levy muttered, and I heard footsteps retreating. I sent off a few more shots before reloading, checking the number of bullets I had left. Anders and Grace suddenly jumped up and bolted away from their hiding place, right into the line of fire. I lurched forward, watching their backs as they sprinted toward the wall. Something loud revved behind me, and I glanced back to see an unmanned forklift heading straight for the shelves where Grace and Anders had just been hiding.

This might've been a bad plan . Curses flew freely from my mouth as I started running when the forklift crashed into the shelves. The rickety metal unit tipped, debris raining down as the avalanche gained momentum, and the whole room shook as it caught another shelf, setting off a domino effect of carnage. I ran straight for the nearest door as shouts hailed out from around the room, muffled by crashes.

I was just through the doorway when an explosion rocked the warehouse, knocking me forward onto my stomach. I covered my head as the world around me shook.

My luck had just run out.