Page 85 of Ignite

Rev salutes. “I’ll be all over him like a bear on a honey hive.”

I clutch the oh shit handle as Rev whips the car out of the parking spot and guns it toward the exit ramp.

“Why are so many teams going out?” I ask.

“Alaric found consistencies among the addresses on the drive,” Rev says, racing through a red light at deadly speeds.

“Consistencies? Jesus, are we in a hurry?”

He glances over at me, brows furrowed. “No. Why? My driving too much for you?”

“It’s… aggressive,” I offer.

“Yes. Consistencies. Several kids were tagged at the same couple of addresses. Foster homes. Shelters. Churches. Youth activity buildings.”

Blood drains from my body. All places that were supposed to be refuges for people like me. I shift in the seat, eager for movement to keep the panic from creeping in.

My hands curl into fists. “I was taken from a foster home.”

“Yeah. Your address was one flagged.”

Stomach churning, I sink into the seat, trying not to let the weight of his words crush me. I stare out at the streets, not really present in my own body.

Rev’s eyes flick to me. I can’t help but feel like this is a test. A mercenary doesn’t lose his shit out on a job. Emotions cannot rule me, especially when lives are at stake.

“That’s not… where we’re going tonight, is it?” I ask, not sure how to process that possibility. I hadn’t thought I’d ever see that foster parent again. I spent years hating her for giving me over to a man who had abused me. I blamed her. How could she not have seen the evil in his eyes? How come no one from child protective services ever came to check up on me?

Because these people target nobodies like me.

I’d spent so much of my existence plotting revenge against both of them. But when I escaped, I wanted nothing more than to shed every piece of that life. I fled, only taking with me the trauma I couldn’t seem to shake.

“No. Chances are we won’t see any action tonight. Teams will be on rotation at the flagged addresses until this entire ring is shut down.”

“Who’s going to my address, Rev?”

He hesitates, swinging the car down a quiet, littered street with decaying brick buildings. “Cain.”

I flip my lip ring back and forth with my tongue. Is that why Cain assigned me to Rev? Because he wanted to murder the woman responsible for almost destroying me? Does she have other kids in her home listed on that fucking drive?

Yeah, I’m not sure I would have been able to stop myself from storming inside that house and pumping her full of bullets. And if shedidhave foster kids, that’s the last thing they needed to witness.

Rev parallel parks the SUV along a street of rough shops four blocks away from our destination. He reaches over and zips the keys in one of my vest pockets. “No pressure, Ezra. You can drive right back to Sinro if you need to. Isaac will buy you pizza and force you to watch reality TV with him.”

“I’m not leaving. I want to do this.”

He flashes a wicked grin. “Now that I’ve relayed Cain’s words, I’ll give you mine.”

My head jerks to him in surprise, catching him pouring a box of nerds candy into his mouth. “If someone shoots, you fucking kill them, okay?”

Back in West Bank, I’m in my element. I trail Rev around buildings and through dark alleyways, hyperfocused on our task, despite my sugar buzz from the pop rocks Rev forced upon me.

Our address is a graffitied shelter on the corner of a run-down intersection. Thankfully, it’s not one I’ve stayed at before or I might have come unglued. I’m still battling to keep myself in check after learning about the foster home situation.

Pressed up against an abandoned building, unease spider walks down my spine when I spot an unmarked black van parked at the end of the street that doesn’t belong to Sinro.

“Rev,” I say under my breath.

He reaches for his gun. “Good instincts. I feel it, too. You should head back to the car.”