44. Rowan

Propping an arm behind his head, Rowan decided that nothing had ever felt this good. A win under his belt and the woman he loved using his chest as a pillow were about the best things he could ask for in life.

When he and Liam arrived back at Haven, they shot off in separate directions, searching for their women. Annabeth had been upstairs, whacking the crap out of a punching bag.

"What is that smell?" she asked as he dragged her across the hall to her bedroom.

"Pig shit."

"Why do you smell like pig shit?"

When she attempted to get away, he tossed her over his shoulder. "Because I tackled a guy and landed in it."

He took a shower, and she watched until she couldn't take it anymore. They had sex. Hard. Fast. A release of tension. Once in the shower, and a second time against the counter.

And it was nowhere near enough.

They next made it to the floor of her bedroom before beginning again. Attacking each other like animals. She rode, he bucked, and they came together in a mix of groans and pants.

And still, it wasn't enough.

"Again," she'd begged, rolling out of one climax and straight into another. "Please, again."

Moving them to the mattress, he took her twice more, damn near breaking the headboard until neither could keep their eyes open.

"We need another shower." With a yawn, she allowed him to tuck her at his side. "I probably look a mess."

"You look thoroughly fucked, Ms. Howard." His ego wouldn't let him keep his mouth shut, and it wasn't as if he were lying. "I love it."

She went to sleep with a smile on her face.

To call the last two days a whirlwind would be an understatement. Out of those captured, seven were his people. Men and women, he personally approved or hired. Liam had been gutted when they discovered the moles on the security team, and Rowan now understood how he felt. The signs of Zanmi had once been so easy to spot, but these people were normal, making this whole thing all the more terrifying.

Exhaling the last of his worries for tonight, he allowed his eyes to shut. Next to him, Annabeth stirred, and he kissed her gently before falling asleep.

And even in sleep, she was with him.

His tired mind planned their future as he dreamed. They would make a home wherever she felt comfortable. Haven House, or one of its cottages, or anywhere she would let him love her until the end. As long as she was happy, he would be happy. They would have a family if she wanted one. He hoped she did, but if not, he was perfectly fine to spend the rest of his days with just her. Without a doubt, there would be cats in the picture, but he would need a dog to balance it out. A nice sturdy mutt to round out their fur family.

As if offended by his dreams of dogs, Colonel Brandon pounced on his chest, waking him from his perfect life with Annabeth.

"What's up, big guy?" A hiss ripped past the Colonel's lips, and he swatted a paw against Rowan's cheek. "You should be used to me by now."

A rolling hum of feline fury rumbled from the ball of fur, and Annabeth stirred. "No, don't let them." She flopped over, reaching for someone who wasn't there. "Dad, you can stop it."

His heart cracked. There would be no nightmares on his watch. "Annabeth."

"Stop." Annabeth thrashed, her arms flailing about. "Stop them."

"Hey." He settled on top of her, keeping her cocooned under him. "I'm here, sweetheart."

Her eyes fluttered open, the tears in them breaking his heart further. "Rowan?"

"I'm here. I'll always be here," he murmured, stroking her hair. "I love you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Coming fully awake, she stiffened. "Can you please get off me?"

The detached indifference in her tone had him moving. "What's wrong?"

Gathering the sheet close, she hid her body and the blood in his veins turned to ice. "We need to have a serious discussion."

"About what?"

"I can't let this thing between us go any further." She wouldn't look at him, fiddling with a frayed corner of her sheet. "Without us discussing the exit strategy."

"Exit strategy?"

"For when we end."

Ah, so this is what death felt like. A visceral cut to the soul. Her words made his heart stop, and already a dead man, he lunged forward.

"This isn't fucking ending." Fighting for his life, he yanked her beneath him to hover from above. "You love me."

She shook her head back and forth, holding on to that damn sheet as if it were a shield. "No, I don't."

"Oh, is that how it is?" he growled. "You're going to lie to me?"

His kiss was brutal, a deserving punishment. "You love me so much, I can feel it," he snarled against her mouth. "Every second of the day, I can feel that you're mine."

She gave up the fight, kissing him back, and he ripped the sheet away, refusing to let her hide. "You love me, Annabeth."

"It doesn't matter."

Like hell it didn't, and he kissed her harder. "It's the only thing that matters."

She pushed at his chest so he would back off enough for her to speak. "Loving each other doesn't matter in the long run. We can keep things as they are for now, but only if you're willing to accept there's no future for us."

"Of course, there's a future for us."

"I can't go!" she yelled. "I can't leave. I'm stuck."

As it was starting to make sense, he smiled. "If you stay, I stay."

She scoffed at him, sounding about as threatening as the Colonel. It was all he could do to keep a straight face. "Rowan, that's not fair to you."

"Living without you wouldn't be fair."

"Oh, really?" Propping herself up on her elbows, she got in his face. "I can't visit your family in Texas or go on vacations." Her anger deepened, sharp and fierce. "Or are you expecting me to sit around and wait while you're off living an exciting life?"

"Not at all." His smile grew, pissing her off more. "I expect my family to come here to meet you, and why would I want to go on a vacation without you?"

"I refuse to trap you here." She dropped back onto the bed. "Absolutely refuse."

"And I refuse to live without you," he said, hoping the words would eventually make their way into that hard head of hers. "Where you go, I go. I lov—"

Jamison's screams shot through the wall, the terror in it like nothing he'd ever heard. Rowan scrambled out of bed and over to the bag of clothes he kept in the corner.

"Stay here," he ordered. "I mean it."

True to form, Annabeth didn't listen and dressed. They hurried as fast as they could, but in the process of putting on her pants, she gasped and nearly tumbled over.

"Rowan, look outside."

He followed her gaze through the balcony door window and let out a curse. Jan McKenzie lay crumpled on the ground, convulsing with a knife impaled in her throat. Splashes of blood squirted onto what looked like a white nightgown, soaking the front completely.

Bursting out onto the balcony, he and Liam nearly collided with one another. Annabeth and Jamison were right behind them, with Jamison talking on her phone.

"Yes, I need an ambulance. The address is... Hello? Hello?" Jamison frantically waved her phone and tried to dial 9-1-1 again, but the call wouldn't connect. "I can't get through!"

Quiet.

Across the landscape, an eerie quiet greeted them, with the only noise being the rustling of trees in the wind.

Liam's eyes scoured the dark. "He's trying to draw us out of the house."

"He's lost his key and can't figure out how to get in," Rowan replied. Haven was on total lockdown. No one could go in or out without sounding one of his alarms. "Obviously, the sister is the brains of the family."

"Well, he knows how to knock out our cell service." Jamison held up her phone. "I've got nothing."

No service. No network. No Wi-Fi.

The phones were as good as dead.

"Wait! I have service!" Jamison shouted, but just as her excitement came on, it disappeared as the phone signal died again. "It's going in and out."

"He's toying with us." Rowan understood exactly what the bastard was doing because it was what he would do if he wanted to be vindictive. "Sinclair is edging us with his own jammers. It's his way of saying fuck you for the other day."

"Grab the walkie-talkies and try to call downstairs to your mom," he ordered Annabeth. "If it works, tell her not to let anyone outside."

"You come with me." Annabeth pulled at his arm. "If they want us out of the house, then standing out here is just as bad as being on the lawn."

"Not exactly." Liam pointed to the forest, its dark depths stretching like a wall around the estate. "Look."

It took a second for his vision to adjust, but once Rowan could make out the figures in white moving through the forest, he let out a curse. "Tell me Abe and Izzy are not staying in the cottage."

Jamison ran into her room and reemerged with walkie-talkies, handing one to Annabeth and the other to Liam. They had already designated two separate channels. One for family communication and the other for their operation.

"They might not work," Rowan explained. "But as Sinclair moves around with the jammer, the block will fade enough for someone to hear us."

Liam hit a button on the walkie-talkie and repeated Izzy's name into the whirl of static.

"Here," Izzy said when the distortion broke for a second. "Here, Cohen."

"Stay inside. One down on the lawn and others in the woods on approach."

The blinds of the cottage swayed, but before Izzy could acknowledge the order, the static returned.

Liam handed the walkie-talkie back to Jamison. "Set the alarms off."

Since he couldn't access the system from his phone, Rowan darted inside to the second floor master control box at the top of the stairs. Emergency personnel would head their way once the system went into ALL Alert.

Opening the panel, he flipped the switch, and the alarm sirens let loose on the night while the exterior lights flashed in warning. He waited as the five indicator lights turned green in compliance, each signaling a completed task. Lights. Alarms. Doors. Windows. Call for help.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

"Shit."

He heard movement on the lower level, and shouted down the stairs for everyone to stay inside. They didn't need Ben or Will running off to play hero if they caught sight of Jan bleeding out on the lawn.

Without elaborating further, he ran back out onto the balcony, and when he exited, Rowan caught a glimpse of the pool on his far left.

"The security detail is dead." He kept his gaze on the three men floating face down in the water as he spoke. "Pool."

"Oh my God." Annabeth spun away so she couldn't see the men. "But the police are coming?"

Rowan met Liam's gaze over Annabeth's head. "No one is coming."

From Jamison's balcony door, Will and Ben burst outside and went immediately to the railing.

"Do you know her?" Will asked as they peered down at Jan.

Pale and shaken, Ben nodded. "I take it the police are on their way?"

Rowan joined them, the sirens and lights abruptly going silent. Sinclair was in the system now, disarming it piece by piece. "Zanmi is using jammers, and we've lost our connection to emergency personnel which means we still have a mole in our ranks."

The figures in white were on the move, nearing the edge of the tree line. "That poor woman down there is bait." Will nodded at the forest. "And more are on the way."

Ben pulled out his phone and attempted to make a call.

"Dad, we've already tried." Jamison came over to her father and laid a hand on his arm. "It didn't work. We were able to connect with Izzy on the walkie-talkie for a second, but that's it."

"If something doesn't work, then you keep trying." Ben dialed another number, and then another, continuing to get the same results. "If the walkie-talkies can connect, then maybe the phones can."

"He's not wrong," Rowan said. "But connecting to a cell tower takes longer an—"

"Hello?" Taylor's sleepy voice came from Ben's phone, shocking everyone into silence. "Ben?"

"Taylor, I need you to call 9-1-1 and get the police to Haven," Ben shouted into his phone. "Zanmi people are on the lawn."

"How is that possible?" Taylor screeched, suddenly wide awake. "Are you sure it's Zanmi?"

The call disconnected, and in the distance, a faint singing could be heard. No one moved. No one breathed. All of them listening as the glowing herd of white neared, transforming into clearer shapes the closer they came. Rowan couldn't be sure, but it looked like people dressed in similar nightgowns as the one Jan wore.

"Women," Will said grimly. "Sinclair sent their women."

Arching up on her toes, Annabeth strained to see. "And there are so many."

Rowan counted a dozen, with more joining. As the women in white gathered, they formed a line on the barrier between the trees and the lawn, their haunting song growing louder.

"Fire off a shot," Will said to his son. "They've worked themselves into a hive state, and a disruption might startle some out of it."

Annabeth tensed. She hated guns, and rightfully so. Rowan hauled her into his arms, ready to block the sound as best he could. "Wouldn't the alarms have already done that?"

Will shook his head. "They would have been conditioned to expect it."

Liam disappeared through Jamison's doorway and returned, gun in hand. Aiming high, he let off a single shot.

The women's song wavered, with one or two on the line hesitating.

"There we go." Rowan lessened his hold on Annabeth so she could get some air. "Do it again."

Before Liam could fire off another shot, everyone's phones buzzed with an incoming text.

Ready or not, here I come.

"H-he sent a text right before Jan cut her throat," Jamison said, looking like she might throw up. "It said we had something of his."

The sister and the nephew. The pair were being held at some undisclosed location by Klausen until they figured out what they were going to do with them.

The singing abruptly ended, and everyone's head snapped up from their phones. The women were entering the grounds of the estate, their formation solid once again.

Ben stepped slowly back from the railing with Will. "Girls, get in the house. I don't want you out here."

When neither budged, Liam snatched Jamison to him, forcing her behind him as Rowan did the same with Annabeth.

"Stubborn," he muttered, unable to tear his eyes from the line of white. "Just go inside."

"If you stay, I stay," she replied, her voice muffled from being pressed into his back. "Isn't that what we said?"

The women stopped a few feet onto the property, close enough for Rowan to see their faces. Old and young, each held the same blank expression.

"What are they doing?" Jamison asked.

Liam aimed his phone at the group, zooming in with his camera. "They're eating something."

Everyone gathered around to look, and it was Ben who recognized the fruit first. "Manchineel," he whispered. "They're eating Manchineel apples. This is a suicide mission."

Rowan forgot how to breathe. Manchineel. The same fruit CeCe Miller ate to escape her brother, allowing its poison to kill her rather than face him.

At the end of the row, a single woman dropped her fruit and screamed, releasing a piercing howl that echoed in the night. One by one, the others joined, lifting their arms high in the air so the metal blades in their hands caught the moonlight just right.

"They're going to break in." Remaining surprisingly calm, Will headed for the balcony door. "I need to get Bernie and Simone up here. We have a better chance of getting through this if we're all upstairs in one room."

"Wait!" Annabeth shushed everyone before he could leave. "Listen."

At first, Rowan heard nothing except the insanity playing out on the lawn. But then the whine of a police siren blended with the women's screams, and the relief that hit was so strong, it had him grinning at Jamison. "You're going to take back every awful thing you've ever said about Taylor."

Jamison sagged against Liam's side. "I'll even give her a raise."

The women's cries reached a higher octave, building into a fevered pitch of delirium and drowning out the sound of help on the way. They just had to hold on for a little longer.

At least that's what Rowan thought.

But then a second text hit their phones simultaneously. A parting message from Sinclair before he unleashed his madness on Haven House.

"Run, run, run as fast as you can."