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Chapter Twenty-Six

Shaw

W e spend several days in a holding pattern waiting for Omen’s and Valor’s documents. It’s not like it would be ideal to leave, anyway, with how unpredictable the waves of Saylor’s heat are.

I’m genuinely fucking surprised Senator Callahan hasn’t attempted to call his daughter. Her phone was lost during her kidnapping, but I’ve still got the same number I’ve always had. So does Leo, for that matter, and Ridge retrieved our phones from the hotel we were kidnapped from.

Thinking of the senator makes me wonder how he ever handled his late wife’s heats. Single-couple pairings are unusual nowadays, at least when alphas and omegas are involved. The late Mrs. Callahan was an omega just like Saylor.

Senator Callahan doesn’t seem like the type who would have been open to using a heat service, and all I can wonder is how much that poor woman suffered.

Technically speaking, it’s none of my fucking business, but I’ll never look at solo alphas and omegas the same way. My entire life, I’ve heard how important it is for omegas to have an entire pack of alphas to meet their needs. Having seen the reality of it, I’ll never question if the teachings are true.

Three alphas and one beta have barely been enough to keep Saylor’s fever down. Even with all four of us, she begs for more if her mouth isn’t busy…and sometimes when it is.

Hell, I know I’m not a pro at sharing just yet, but under no circumstances could I listen to Saylor in agony and not do everything in my power to fix it. Even if that meant bringing in alphas from a heat service or tapping in friends she was comfortable with if we hadn’t had a chance to build our pack yet.

Luckily, we have.

Leo and Saylor were asleep in the nest when Valor and I stumbled out in search of sustenance. Omen followed not too long after, and I know I’m not the only one monitoring the bond in case our omega wakes up needing more dick.

Valor pushes off the counter, heading to the table to refill his cereal bowl.

I grin, shaking my head.

Heats are a fucking trip.

His bruises and cuts from being in solitary are finally starting to heal, but he looks like he got in a knock-down, drag-out fight with a grizzly bear. In reality, our sweet little omega is to thank for that.

Not that I fared much better. My arms and chest are covered in claw marks that feel like the best kind of battle wounds.

Omen must pick up on my thoughts in the bond because he snorts a laugh. The long hair on the top of his head sticks straight up, though he did manage to make it out of the nest with fewer scratches.

Yeah, all three of us look rough.

* * *

I’m just finishing my cereal when my phone goes off. It’s not a normal alert, and I drop my mostly empty bowl and spoon in the sink, snatching it off the counter.

A message from Ridge flashes on the screen, and I read it aloud as soon as I understand what I’m seeing.

Two sets of headlights. They cut them as soon as they turned onto the easement. Big vehicles. Gonna need some backup.

My eyes widen, and I toss the phone onto the counter. “Lock all the doors, except the patio, and get ready. It looks like the facility held a grudge, after all.”

Stomping over to the closet where we stowed all our gear, I pull out as much as I can carry and take it to the table.

Omen was right when he said the facility would attack at night if they intended to. It will give them cover, but it’ll provide us the same luxury. They likely believe we’re asleep. That they can get in and execute us without detection.

Unfortunately for them, that’s not how this is going to go down.

“Gear up,” I say as Omen and Valor jog back into the kitchen. They get to work without useless questions. I strap on a shoulder holster and shove two extra mags in each pocket. Depending on how many men are in each vehicle, we might have to ration and count our shots.

I clip myself into a thigh holster that has room for another gun and a slot for a tac knife sheath. It feels all but useless with the way it slides up and down as I walk. The material of the sweats does nothing to keep it in place. I haven’t even stowed my knife yet, and that’s only going to add additional weight.

I’m used to having pockets and compartments, but there’s no time to complain, and there are definitely no seconds to spare on running upstairs to change.

Fuck me.

I don’t even have time to warn Leo to be on alert in case we fail.

Nah, fuck that.

Failure isn’t an option.

Pulling out the bag of knives, I unzip it as I head back to the table. I grab the knife I used to kill Amato and drop it into the sheath on my thigh.

There’s no way we haven’t wasted sixty seconds just gearing up.

Possibly ninety.

I eye my phone.

It would take an extra thirty seconds to get to it, unlock it, and send the text. There’s no guarantee that would even wake either of them. They were done for—knocked completely out.

My eyes fly to Omen and Valor. They’re my teammates now, and it’s time I put a little faith in them.

I stride toward the glass door that leads to the deck. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

Ridge never mentioned a rendezvous location, but I already know I’ll find him by the fountain. He quirks an eyebrow when he spots me. “Well, this should be interesting.”

Yeah, I bet we do look like idiots.

Not a single one of us even has a shirt on.

“All right, two on each side of the house, watch the perimeter, and take them out as they approach?” Ridge suggests.

“Isn’t there a road back that way?” Valor asks, pointing to the guest cabin and beyond the copse of trees.

“Yeah, but it’s a hike,” Ridge says. “It’s better to focus on the verifiable threat.”

My head tilts.

Normally I might agree, but I really do not like the idea of the back door being unprotected. The two glass doors that lead to the deck are a major breach point.

I shake my head, jabbing a finger at Ridge. “You guard the deck. Leo doesn’t even know this shit is going down. If anyone gets past us, I’m counting on you to put them down.”

Ridge grumbles under his breath but finally nods. “You just want to make sure I miss all the fun.”

The sounds of gravel crunching under tires fill the air.

I spin back to Valor, but Omen is gone.

“Where the fuck is your partner?” I ask as my eyes bug.

He was silent as hell wherever he disappeared to. Then again, we’re all barefoot, which is inconvenient. I’m used to fighting in my boots, and they’re a last-ditch weapon if necessary.

Valor shrugs. “He likes to climb and take people out from above. It’s kind of his thing, but don’t worry. He knows how to keep himself alive.”

“He fucking better. Saylor is not dealing with the agony of a broken bond. Not on my watch.” I slap Valor in the gut and take off. “You take the east side of the house. I’ll take the west.”

* * *

My back flattens against the front wall of the house. I regulate my breathing and wait for the steady calm that kicks in when it’s go time .

The SUVs pull up side-by-side, and I peek around the edge to see if the drivers pop out too. If not, that could lead to a car chase in the middle of the German countryside.

There’s no way we’ll be able to stay here after this. We’re going to have to bail and find somewhere else to hunker down until we can secure Valor’s and Omen’s papers.

Four bodies spill from the vehicle on my side. I flatten against the wall again, but I try to tilt my head enough to see if the other vehicle holds the same number.

I’m right-handed.

I prefer to keep my gun in my dominant hand and a tactical knife in my left for close-quarters combat.

When it came down to it, I had to holster my gun to pull Amato’s gun arm down. Then I was able to slit his throat without any complications. I could have taken a shot at him, but there’s always a risk when you can’t see what’s on the other side of whatever you’re aiming at. The bullet could have gone right through him, and I couldn’t tell where the others were at that moment.

Being outnumbered eight to four isn’t bad odds, especially when we know they’re coming, but Ridge is mostly out of this fight unless additional enemies approach from the rear.

I’m counting on Omen and Valor to understand the advantage we have in stealth. The moment the first shot rings out, they’ll know that we know they’re here.

That levels the playing field.

This is a coordinated attack.

Two from each vehicle head toward the front deck while the other two fan out to the respective side of the vehicle they exited.

That means two men are headed directly toward me, and two more are aiming for Valor. The only good thing is, the men on the front porch are more likely to wait for the four men to reach the back side of the house before trying to breach the door.

The downside comes from not knowing if they’re wearing comms. If they are, they could be on a constant feed, or they could need to press a button to communicate to keep from filling the line with heavy breathing and chatter.

I’m really regretting not bringing a backup knife, and I shove the gun in my right hand back into its holster. I’m going to need that hand to grab with.

As soon as I get back in place, the first body comes around the side of the house. He’s in a tactical vest like they wore in the facility, and I snatch him to me with the shoulder strap. My blade slides across his throat, and I twist my head to the side, closing my eyes to keep the spray of blood out of them.

Warm, wet liquid spurts on my face and arm, but I’m used to the metallic smell that accompanies it. At least the first guy isn’t in a helmet, and he doesn’t have thermal.

I toss him to the side, and he falls without getting a shot off. I’m sure his buddy has realized what’s happened by now, so I drop to a crouch and bring my knife up at an angle. I’ve been in enough tac vests to know exactly where to aim to slide up under his ribs. He slams his gun into the side of my temple—thank God he’s too close to get a shot off with the rifle he’s toting.

I twist the knife, pivot back toward him, and tackle him in one smooth string of motions.

My hand clamps over his mouth, but the initial stab was loud enough to cause concern.

It’s harder than I’m expecting to pull my knife free of his ribs.

I must have miscalculated the entry location, because I was aiming to go up under them to clip his lung.

He struggles, but it’s useless.

My wrist rotates, and I stab him in the carotid artery.

I’m a bloody fucking mess as I stumble to my feet, but I edge my back to the wall, peeking around to appraise the guys on the porch.

Fuck, this is also going to be a shitshow.

Easton ain’t getting his deposit back on this place.

The front of the house is lined with large shrubs that are tall enough they reach the railing around the deck. They’re a gift because they’ll mostly obscure my presence.

Swiping my knife off on my sweats, I dry my right hand and grab my gun before crouching.

The ground is littered with sticks and jagged rocks, but I barely notice. Approaching as silently as possible, I stop by the steps and aim. I’m going to have to move around the railing, which is when I’ll be visible, but I’m hoping they won’t notice me until I’m in place.

My head swivels, but I can’t see Omen or Valor. The bond is intact when I finally remember to check it, and I get the overwhelming feeling they’re waiting on me.

Okay, that’s weird as shit.

Leo and I should have bonded a long-ass time ago. We wouldn’t have needed comms.

I finally get my shit together and focus on the link. I have no idea what gets through to them, but I do my best to project a countdown from three.

I move on three, popping around the railing and crouching.

My eyes widen as I spot one of the four men on the porch, aiming directly at me. He must have been obscured by the column at the top of the steps.

I barely have the chance to process that I need to act before Omen lowers from the rafters, slicing his blade across the guy’s throat. He shoves him down the steps, and two things happen simultaneously. The guy’s gun goes off, exploding the bottom step into massive splinters of wood. And Omen pulls himself up, getting out of the way for me to take my shots.

All three men swivel at once, shifting their focus from the front door to their dead teammate.

I take out the one in the middle first because he locates me before the other two. It’s always a gruesome sight when someone takes a headshot, and his blood, bone, and brain explode against the front door.

The one on the left is aiming at me, but the guy on the right has spotted Omen. He’s trapped in, meaning I go for the guy on my right, even though the one on the left is more of a threat—at least to me, personally. I land a shot in his neck and follow it up with a clean circle through his forehead.

I know someone handled the guy on the left…solely because I’m not dead.

It’s then I spot Valor. The massive fucker is tall enough to see over the shrubs and get an accurate shot off to save my life.

Thank fuck for that.

It also means all eight assailants are dead.

Omen swings into view again, hanging upside down from the rafters. “Everyone in one piece? It feels like it.”

“I’m good,” I agree, but it comes out hoarse and raspy.

“You’re the one with a bloody face this time, mate.” Omen chuckles. “Don’t let Valor hold the hose.”

“Is it in your mouth? You’ll want to get that shit out as soon as possible. Is there eyewash in the first aid kit?” Valor asks, coming around to the front.

I snort, shaking my head. “Fuck if I know, but we need to check on Ridge.”

* * *

Ridge leans against the back door to the house, and he frowns when he spots me. “You look like hell…” He shoves off the wall. “You fuckers left me back here twiddling my thumbs. Whatever. Pack up. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”

“Saylor is still in heat,” Omen says, coming to a stop at my side.

“We have no contacts here to cover this kind of thing up,” I say, sighing heavily. “We have no choice.”

Valor nods. “This was mostly silent, but they know where we are. We need to get out of here immediately.”

“I never said I didn’t agree,” Omen says calmly. “Just warning ya. We should all prepare to have a very pouty omega on our hands.”