Chapter 26

ANITA

Two hours later, the six of us are stuffed in a van parked a block away from my family's estate. The space is so cramped that I'm sitting on both Stryker and Porter. Darby is hunched in front of an impressive array of computers, and Gwen is perched on a crate next to him with a slight grimace of distaste at being trapped in such a confining space so soon after her captivity.

We're all staring at the schematics of the estate, while live feeds flash across the other monitors where Darby was able to tap into their security system.

"Stryker and Darby can scale the back fences here." I point to a well-lit area in the backyard. "Thankfully, my mother is vain enough to want the aesthetics of her precious gardens to remain unaltered, so the bushes don't get trimmed back the way they should. Vegetation obscures most of the camera angles. If you cling to the shadows, you should make it past without being detected.

"Unfortunately, since my family employs tech wizards, it's better to risk detection than tamper with looping the feeds. Once we enter the system, it's only a matter of time before our intrusion is detected."

I glance at Gwen, then motion to the computers. "You'll remain behind and monitor both teams. You'll be in control of the command center."

"I don't see why I'm being left out of all the fun." She crosses her arms and pouts, kicking at some of the cords that lie haphazardly throughout the truck like a jumble of coiled snakes. She's so small that her feet don't even touch the ground. Next to the guys, she looks like a child, with her thin frame and big eyes.

"Because my family has the place spelled so magic doesn't work once a person enters the property." I grimace at my family's overblown, megalomaniac tendencies. "My family likes to feel important and more powerful than anyone else. Not to mention the spell gives them an advantage while everyone else remains vulnerable. Only full-blown wizards are able to circumvent the curses and break them, but it takes time."

"Time they use to kill the threat," Porter surmises with a grim expression.

I nod, glad they are finally starting to see how dangerous and unhinged my family can be when cornered and the measures they are willing to take to be on top.

"My family hasn't invited many beastlings to the property, but my guess is the spells will repress your shift as well." I glance at Stryker and Porter, since they'll be the most affected. "Unless you're extremely powerful, you're stuck in whatever form you take when you enter."

Gwen gulps, her arms dropping to her sides, and she leans toward the computer console. "Yeah, the command center works for me. I would be nothing but cannon fodder once I entered the property."

Cassius and Soren sit near the backdoors. They don't wait for orders, but immediately begin peeling weapons from the straps lining almost every inch of the van.

"The van is warded," Darby says distractedly as he watches numbers and letters stream across the screen, his mind lost deep within the servers. "It should be invisible to most people. Only powerful magic users can even sense it. If anyone comes to investigate, they will be struck with a fear spell. They'll be too scared to get closer than five feet and feel physical revulsion at the thought of entering."

"Not to mention the industrial locks," Porter says, not looking up from his gun as he slams the magazine home, racks the slide, then shoves it into his waistband at the small of his back. He pulls his shirt over it, then picks up the next gun.

All the guys do the same until they're practically bristling with guns and knives.

Soren selects a few smaller knives, then grabs my foot and places one inside my sock. He tucks another one in my shoe. Stryker watches, then immediately chooses a few of the smaller throwing blades before braiding a couple in the messy strands of my hair. When he goes to shove one down my shirt, I snatch it from him and place it in my bra myself.

I don't trust the guys to stay on track if my shirt comes off.

"Darby and Stryker will wait until we breach the front before infiltrating the garden. My parents will want all their guards out front as a show of force. You'll be left with one or two guards at most." I look up from getting my boobs sorted and find everyone in the van watching me.

I clear my throat, squashing my smile when their attention snaps to my face. I love the thrill that goes through me at their heated looks. Gwen flashes me a saucy wink, curling her fingers until they resemble fake claws, then gives a silent roar.

I nearly sputter on my laughter, but it has the desired effect, and I focus once again on the task at hand. "Avoid the guards if you can. While most of them are mages, they do keep a few feral beastlings on leashes. If you kill the guards, hiding the bodies will avoid setting off the alarms for a little while. The property covers a lot of acreage, and they won't notice they are missing right away."

When the guys nod at my instructions, my gut relaxes slightly.

Nothing can go wrong.

Porter is letting me take the lead since I'm the most familiar with the estate and security measures, but the responsibility for their lives weighs heavily on my soul. I'm determined to leave nothing to chance. "It's been a while since I've been in residence, but they are arrogant enough that I doubt they bothered to update anything since I left."

Stryker leans forward and feeds a belt through the loops of my jeans, showing me the knife hidden in the buckle before securing it. I give him a smile of thanks and continue with my nervous babble. "Once on the grounds, head for the gazebo. Under the bench is a passageway to the underground tunnels. If your sister is still alive, she'll be down in the bunker. You'll need to hack the code to enter."

Darby threads his fingers together and flexes them. "Not a problem."

Adrenaline leaves me feeling hyped up and a little nauseated.

This has to go right, or I risked everyone's lives for nothing.

Porter cups the back of my neck, his grip just short of painful as he forces my head back, leaving me no choice but to look up at him. His shadows slink along my skin, sinking into my hair, their presence comforting. "We won't let anything happen to you."

It's a vow.

Before I can protest that it's them I'm worried about, his mouth descends for a short, hard kiss that scrambles my thoughts and steals my soul.

It also effectively distracts me from my downward spiral.

Heat floods my face when he pulls back, leaving me more than a little flustered, and it's all I can do not to grab the front of his shirt to drag him back and demand more.

I awkwardly clear my throat, wishing it was as easy to clear my thoughts. "Er, so, um, the rest of us will take the truck to the front entrance. My family will have plenty of time to gather intel on your group. Cassius will carry me. They shouldn't question it if you tell them that it's your venomous touch keeping me sedated. It will force my family to keep their distance from you and buy the guys some time to find Charlotte.

"Whatever you do, don't interfere if my family gets physical with me." I point my finger at Porter, Cassius, and Soren to emphasize my point. "Remember, they need me alive for their contact with the demon to be valid, not to mention we need the extra time for Soren to search for the demon contract. You said you should be able to sense it, yes?"

I can't believe the absurd words coming out of my mouth. Who in their right mind makes a deal with a demon?

Then again, if anyone thought they could work with a demon and get away with it, it would be my family.

Soren grunts, clearly not happy with that part of the plan, but he doesn't protest. "Yes, if it's in the same room, I should be able to sense the demonic magic."

"Any questions?" I look at everyone crowded into the back of the van, and my chest tightens when I realize how much they have come to mean to me in such a short amount of time. They are more my family than the people in the mansion beyond, and I'm determined to do whatever is necessary to ensure they get out of this alive.

"Nope," Gwen says, popping the P loudly in the silence. She slouches back into her seat with a droll look, settling her threaded fingers behind her head. "Confront your cock-sucking family, rescue the girl, fight off a demon, and get out alive—piece of cake."

CASSIUS

We pull up to the mansion at the appointed time, the truck engine roaring, and it's all I can do not to demand Porter stomp on the gas and get us the fuck out of here. It's only Anita's slight weight in my lap that has me clenching my teeth to keep the words from escaping.

If Porter's white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel is any indication, he's battling the same impulse. Soren shifts in the backseat, unable to remain still, the scent of burnt leather and plastic wafting from him. As we approach the estate, the gates open, and we drive through, sealing our fate.

Static from the wards dances across my skin, the pressure clamping down harder and harder with each second until my beast is bound tightly. I never resented my basilisk, the beast a part of my very essence, but the isolation can be crushing at times—never touching anyone else or looking someone in their eyes has taken its toll over the years. I became someone everyone feared. Over time, I came to relish my abilities because they gave me the power to hunt monsters like myself.

I should be pleased that my basilisk is suppressed, pleased to be normal for a few minutes, yet the thought of my abilities being taken when I need them most is terrifying. When I test my powers, the sweet taste of venom floods my mouth, and I release a shuddering breath.

Thank fuck!

The thought of being totally helpless is abhorrent.

I test my shift next. Though my claws lengthen slightly, it's a struggle, which means that while I might not be able to shift, I still have limited use of my abilities.

It will have to be enough.

The first view of the mansion is impressive—manicured lawns, walled security, and a battalion of guards, not to mention a fucking fountain out front that is bigger than our truck. The backyard has a full garden, an Olympic-sized pool, a tennis court, and a damned twelve-car garage.

As if I need any more proof that Anita was used to a different lifestyle than the rest of us mere mortals.

It's not like she treats anyone as if she believes she's better than them. No, it's in the way she holds herself, the way she looks at a person, the way she speaks. She has a quality that marks her as untouchable to those of us who were raised in the slums.

Yet from the report Darby compiled, things aren't as they appear. I would scoff if anyone else claimed they survived hell while living in such a luxurious place, but the way Anita trembles in my arms tells me a different story.

There is no faking the terror oozing from her at being returned to her family.

Three dozen armed guards swarm our vehicle, weapons aimed, spells swirling around them, closing off any avenue of escape.

It's not the welcome home I was expecting.

I adjust my dark sunglasses, tempted to rip them off. They feel tight and uncomfortable, dulling the world around me and stealing my senses. I didn't realize how much I hated them until Anita showed me how freeing it was to go without them. She's the first one who ever looked at me without fear, and it's addicting.

We park directly in front of the palatal staircase and barely have time to throw the vehicle into park before the doors are wrenched open by the guards. My basilisk hisses at the intrusion, and I barely resist the urge to lunge forward and sink my fangs into the fucker's neck.

Porter isn't much better, lifting his gun and taking aim at the first dumb schmuck who tries to get close. The guard gulps and carefully backpedals. Soren launches out of the truck, flames licking up his arms, a blazing figure in the night air, and no one else dares approach.

Stepping out of the truck, I haul Anita higher in my arms, my hold tightening to stop some eager asshole from trying to snatch her from me. The guys fall into formation around us, and I know they have our backs covered.

I smile at the guard who nears, allowing my fangs to show. "If you think I'm going to hand my bounty over without collecting my fee, then you deserve your death."

Instead of showing fear, this man scowls. He's older than the others, clearly in charge, and pissed that I won't just turn over Anita. When his gaze slips to the girl in my arms, the disdain on his face is so full of vitriol that hatred blazes in his eyes.

Possibly because she escaped on his watch?

From the malicious glee twisting his expression, however, I suspect it's something more.

The commander keeps his distance, smart enough not to endanger Anita in any way, but I suspect his restraint is purely from orders alone. He doesn't lower his gun as he reaches up and speaks into a hidden mic.

Before he even finishes talking, the double doors to the house swing open, and a man comes to a stop on the landing, preening like a damn pegasus. He stands with his hands on his hips, his chest puffed up with arrogance as he surveys his domain.

Stuart—Anita's cousin, and the man who made her life hell.

Venom fills my mouth, and it takes everything in me not to leap the distance between us and smash his face to a pulp.

Anita is the only child of the Kerrington dynasty, a child born late to the couple, and the rest of the family hated her for it. She was the sole heir, set to inherit everything, only she disappeared before she could take controlling interest.

Anita filled in the gaps and explained what really happened behind closed doors.

Her family never had any intention of allowing her to inherit. To the media, she was a figurehead, the spoiled princess and black sheep of the family.

It couldn't have been further from the truth.

The rest of the family took over everything. As a member of one of the twelve founding families, her father is away most of the time on council business, while her mother remains at home to run the family company, and Stuart is their eager lapdog, doing everything in his power to break her.

Now we know why—the demon contract.

They contacted a demon and gave birth to a child with every intention of sacrificing her in exchange for wealth and power.

Sick fuckers.

Even knowing I would never survive, it's all I can do not to charge up the steps and rip out Stuart's fucking throat. I must have telegraphed my thoughts, because Anita jams her tiny little nails into my ribs hard enough that I grunt.

Vicious little thing.

I fucking love it.

Stuart's gaze lands on us, and his nose wrinkles in distaste at being forced to deal with bottom-feeders. When his attention drops to the bundle in my arms, avarice lights up his face.

If the man had a soul, it was burned out a long time ago.

His nose twitches, and his beady eyes gleam, giving him a weaselly expression. He practically rubs his hands together in glee. "Dump her on the steps and leave. I'll make sure you get paid for services rendered."

My grip instinctively tightens around Anita at the thought of just tossing her away like trash. I meet his arrogance with my own and lift a cocky brow. "My touch is keeping her sedated. The instant I release her, she will wake, and she will be pissed. Are you sure you can handle that?"

Porter shoves his way forward and crosses his arms. "We won't be leaving until the money hits our account. As a businessman yourself, you understand."

Stuart narrows his eyes, possibly debating if he could get away with killing us in a shower of bullets. Porter senses the shift in mood as well and quickly improvises. "MID would have my hide if I left without payment."

Stuart pauses at the unspoken threat, calculation swirling in his shit-colored eyes, as if he's debating if he could get away with murdering three MID agents on his front lawn. Then, with an aggravated sigh, he steps back and gestures to the house. "But of course. Let's finish this so you can be on your way."

Approaching the house feels too much like entering a redcap's den, and I have to force my muscles to unlock to even move. My basilisk hunkers down warily, and I can't get over the premonition that things are about to go to shit.

As I pass Stuart, the air around him is so vile that it's hard not to recoil. The thought of Anita being at his mercy for her whole life leaves me gutted.

Her family makes sociopaths look like a bunch of overeager puppies.

As I pass, I brace myself, expecting to have a dagger plunged into my back. When it doesn't happen, why don't I feel relieved?

One look in Stuart's eyes is like seeing into his soul. He is rotten to the core, so spoiled since birth that he was never taught right from wrong, only how to take what he wants.

Money, power, and women are never enough.

His kind always demands more.

Nothing anyone can do will ever satisfy him.

He's a true psychopath, just like my father.

There is only one way to escape their clutches—by killing them.