Page 27

We didn’t talk during the ride back to the house, though that was hardly surprising. I didn’t think Fallon liked me very much. To be fair, the surly bastard didn’t like anyone. Besides one petite female with dark brown hair.

Hell, she was the only one who had ever made him smile.

Turning once again towards the window, I watched the fields flash by before subtly transforming into dense forests. The beginnings of rain pounded against the roof of the car. Thunder roared in the distance, the sound deafening.

“Weather’s getting bad,” I mused. Fallon, of course, merely grunted in response.

We pulled in front of Elena’s cute Victorian manor. There were no cars currently in the driveway, a fact that made my blood turn to ice. Ryder and Ronan, at the very least, should’ve been back by now.

Fallon’s lips twisted slightly, the only indication he was anything but impassive. His eyes roamed over the empty driveway and the darkened windows. Not one candle flickered in the house.

Clouds continued to release their torrents of rainfall, each one piercing into the roof of the car with a penetrating force. It almost felt as if the sky was crying. Falling apart, piece by piece. Tear by tear.

Fallon put the car into park, but continued to sit behind the wheel. His long fingers tapped an unfamiliar pattern, the first crack in his apathetic exterior.

“Why isn’t anyone home?” he asked. Despite his question being spoken aloud, I didn’t dare respond. Fallon, like Adelaide, had a tendency to speak through his thoughts. Any response from me would only serve to annoy him.

I felt immense relief. The last thing I wanted Addie to see was me, walking into the home with blood-stained clothes and a feral look in my eyes. I didn’t want her to see me as someone dark and broken. No, the further I could remove her from my other identity, the happier everyone would be.

The good guy. The sweet guy. The loving guy.

I could be all of those things. Hell, Iwantedto be all of those things.

Shaking my head to clear my muddled thought, I tossed open the passenger side door.

It was my hand that the rain hit first.

I let out a cuss of pain, instantly pulling myself back into the car.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

The skin was turning red, a stark contrast to my usually pasty skin. Fallon’s eyes widened as he took in my hand. Before I could say anything, he grabbed it and held it up to his face. His grip, combined with the blistering pain from the rain, was enough to make me hiss through clenched teeth. Damn it. The man didn’t know the meaning of the word “gentle”.

“Shit,” he agreed after a moment of surveying my reddened hand. He released me as if I was toxic, and I allowed my hand to drop limply into my lap.

Shit was right.

And where were the others?

My mind conjured up images, each one more horrific than the last. Adelaide trapped outside, her skin reddening like a ripe tomato. Screams reverberating through the darkened sky, nearly overtaking the steady pound of raindrops. My brothers, lying in a pool of their own blood. Adelaide, her features nearly indistinguishable. I squeezed my eyelids shut as if that could somehow alleviate the mental anguish I felt. If anything were to happen to her, to any of my brothers, I would lose my mind. There was only so much mind I had left to lose.

Fallon’s face was pinched as if he had eaten something particularly sour. His eyes were narrowed at the door of the house. What was going through that calculating head of his? Was he willing someone, anyone, to exit? Was he envisioning Adelaide smirking at him through the window? Or, and this seemed to be the most likely option, was he planning someone’s murder? Unfortunately, you weren’t able to kill the weather. Shame.

Seeming to make up his mind about something, he put the car back into drive.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked. Without bothering to respond, Fallon dropped his foot on the gas. I let out a curse as we flew over loose pebbles and broken cement. I could see the gray door of the garage looming ominously ahead of me. Closer and closer and closer....

Bracing myself for the impact, I turned my face away. The car crashed straight through the closed garage door. Glass shattered, keen shards barely missing my covered face. I felt a few lodge themselves inside of my arms, the pain barely registering over the blood roaring through my ears. My breath left me in a swooping exhale even as my heart continued to pound erratically inside of my chest. I glanced at Fallon out of the corner of my eye; the burly bastard didn’t seem to notice, or care, that he had slivers of glass in his hair and face. Bourns of blood cascaded down his face.

Without a word, Fallon climbed out of the car and stormed towards the door. I quickly scrambled after him.

I could feel his fear and worry as if it was a tangible being. It made the air almost stifling hot and sent goosebumps racing up and down my arms.

“Adelaide!” Fallon roared, striding down the hallway. And that was the only word adequate enough to describe his tone: a roar. Hints of panic seeped through. “Adelaide!”

“What’s going on?” a tired, gravelly voice mumbled from behind me.

Calax stood in the doorway of one of the spare bedrooms, his face silhouetted in shadows. Even then, I could see his sleep-tousled dark hair and his massive outline. He let out a yawn, his fist coming up to block the sound.