Page 14

T he Sentinel loomed ahead like something out of a science fiction movie, all angular glass and gleaming metal against the early morning sky. We'd been driving for nearly an hour since leaving the still-smoldering remains of the funeral home. Xavier's hand rested possessively on my thigh as Maxime drove us through the third security checkpoint in fifteen minutes. The tension in the car was thick enough to choke on, with Annie staring silently out the window, her knuckles white where she gripped the door handle.

Yuri and Tatty had opted to go with Nikita instead. Nikita had insisted on it, and even offered us a place with him instead. But choosing between mafia protection and Algerone wasn't much of a choice.

The final checkpoint was manned by guards in tactical gear, their weapons visible but not pointed at us. One approached the car, bent to check Maxime's face against something on his tablet, then nodded.

"Welcome back, Mr. St. Germain," the guard said formally. "Mr. Etremont informed us to expect you and the Laskin family."

"Thank you, Phillips," Maxime replied, his tone neutral but authoritative.

"Fuck's sake," Xavier muttered under his breath as the gates opened.

Xavier's fingers drummed an erratic rhythm against my thigh. His jaw worked silently, teeth grinding audibly in the quiet car. When our eyes met, I caught something unfamiliar flickering behind his usual calculated stare—a wildness that made my stomach tighten. This wasn't the Xavier who methodically dismantled firewalls or calmly explained complex security systems. This wasn't the Xavier who'd held me as I trembled with wax-induced pleasure just days ago, his voice steady and commanding as he guided me through ecstasy.

I placed my hand over his, stilling the restless fingers. "Hey," I whispered, quiet enough that only he could hear. "I'm right here."

His hand flipped over, gripping mine with bruising intensity. I welcomed the pain. It meant he was still anchored to something. To me.

"This isn't permanent," I whispered, though I had no right to make such promises. "Just until we find Phoenix."

The gates slid open with a hydraulic hiss. Beyond them stretched a serpentine driveway lined with subtle ground lighting, winding through perfectly manicured grounds toward what could only be described as a fortress disguised as a modern mansion.

As we pulled up to the main entrance, I couldn't help but stare in awe at the defenses. Landscaping elements concealed CCTV cameras and the decorative lighting fixtures were actually motion detectors. What looked like ornamental metalwork on the balconies was ballistic shielding. Whoever designed this place had blended luxury and tactical defense with disturbing elegance.

"Home sweet fortress," Annie murmured as the car stopped. "At least the bastard has good taste."

Maxime himself led us into the building, dismissing the staff with a subtle gesture. "I'll handle Mr. Etremont's family personally," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The efficiency with which the staff dispersed spoke volumes about Maxime's authority here. This wasn't just Algerone's assistant. This was his right hand, trusted with the most precious things in Algerone's life: his children.

Xavier pulled me closer as we entered, his fingers digging into my hip. The pressure grounded me, reminding me I wasn't walking into this alone.

"The east wing has been prepared for you and Mr. Astrada," Maxime said. "Mr. Etremont was quite specific about ensuring your comfort and privacy."

Xavier's jaw tightened. "We're staying together."

Maxime's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "Of course. That's already been arranged."

The interior of The Sentinel made my tech-loving brain short-circuit. The foyer alone was bigger than the trailer I'd shared with Wattson, with ceilings that soared two stories high and a floating staircase that seemed to defy physics. Smart panels were integrated seamlessly into the walls, controlling everything from lighting to security with the touch of a finger.

"Jesus," I whispered, mentally calculating how many years of my salary it would take to afford just the security system.

"Enjoying Algerone's blood money?" Xavier's voice was low, for my ears only.

"Actually, I was counting the surveillance devices," I replied, eyes tracking the nearly invisible seams in the ceiling. "Seven, just in this room."

Something in Xavier's expression softened minutely. "Eight. There's one in the light fixture."

"Show-off," I nudged him, relieved when one corner of his mouth twitched upward.

The moment of levity faded quickly as I remembered why we were here. Two fires in one week. Someone was targeting us—targeting me—with escalating violence. First my trailer at the Dogs' compound, then the funeral home. Phoenix wasn't just sending a message anymore; they were trying to destroy everything Xavier cared about.

Maxime led us through a maze of corridors, each more impressive than the last. I tried to memorize the layout, old habits from my Army days kicking in automatically. Always know your exits. Always have an escape route planned. The east wing connected to the main house through a gallery lined with abstract art that probably cost more than my entire education.

"Here we are." Maxime stopped before a set of double doors at the corridor's end. He pressed his palm to a biometric scanner, then stepped aside. "The system will need to register your biometrics for door access. All security functions can be controlled from the panel inside."

Xavier went first, reluctantly pressing his hand to the scanner. The light flashed green, and his name appeared on a small display. I hesitated before following suit. Something about surrendering my biometric data to Algerone's systems made my skin crawl, but what choice did I have?

The scanner hummed while reading my palm. "Leonardo Astrada, access granted," announced the system.

Maxime nodded with satisfaction. "The suite has been stocked with everything you might need. Mr. Etremont wants to ensure his son's comfort during this difficult time. However, should you need anything further, you can contact me by speaking directly to Chance."

"Who's Chance?" I asked.

He sprouted a smug smirk and tapped something on his tablet. "Chance, please say hello and introduce yourself."

"Good morning, Mr. Laskin, Mr. Astrada. I am Chance, the integrated artificial intelligence system designed to manage The Sentinel's operations and ensure your comfort and security," a voice responded from everywhere and nowhere at once. The sound was distinctly male but with an undefinable accent that was precise and warm without being overly familiar.

Xavier's entire body tensed, eyes darting to the ceiling and walls, searching for the source.

"I manage all environmental controls, security protocols, and amenities within The Sentinel," Chance continued. "My primary function is to anticipate and fulfill your needs while maintaining optimal security parameters. I'm programmed with complete confidentiality protocols regarding all residents."

"Is he always listening?" I asked, unable to keep the unease from my voice.

"Chance operates on a continuous monitoring basis," Maxime explained, "but personal data is compartmentalized with strict access protocols. Mr. Etremont values privacy highly."

"That's rich coming from him," Xavier muttered.

“Residents can activate privacy mode in any room by simply saying 'Chance, activate privacy mode' or using the control panels,” Chance continued happily. “During privacy mode, all audio monitoring is suspended, though critical security functions remain active."

Xavier's eyes narrowed. "And what exactly constitutes 'critical security functions'?"

"Motion detection, thermal imaging, and perimeter monitoring," Chance replied without hesitation. "No audio or visual data is recorded from within the room during privacy mode, but the system continues to monitor for potential threats such as unauthorized entry, fire, or other environmental hazards."

Maxime cleared his throat. "Perhaps you'd like to explore your accommodations? I have matters to attend to, but Chance can answer any questions you might have."

Xavier waved him off without looking at him. "We'll manage."

The doors slid open at our approach, revealing a space that made me momentarily forget everything else. The suite was larger than any apartment I'd ever seen, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a view of dense forest that somehow managed to feel both exposed and completely private at the same time. I knew instantly the glass had to be one-way and bulletproof, probably with some kind of electronic tinting.

"Holy shit," I whispered as the doors closed behind us, leaving Maxime on the other side.

The living area alone was huge, with sleek furnishings that somehow managed to look both modern and comfortable. A massive screen dominated one wall, surrounded by built-in shelving filled with books, games, and tech I couldn't even identify from a distance.

"Chance, privacy mode," Xavier said immediately, his voice tight.

"Privacy mode activated," Chance confirmed.

Xavier relaxed, but only marginally. He moved through the space like a predator assessing new territory, touching nothing but seeing everything. I could practically feel him logging potential threats, escape routes, vulnerabilities.

"Eight cameras that I can see," he muttered, "plus whatever's hidden in the fixtures."

I moved to the windows, analyzing the view. "We're on the second floor, eastern exposure. About thirty feet to the ground. There's a security perimeter about a hundred yards into the tree line."

Xavier shot me an appreciative glance. "You catch on quick."

"Army training has its uses." I shrugged, continuing my assessment. "The trees would provide decent cover if we needed to make a run for it, but I'm guessing there are motion sensors everywhere."

"Along with infrared, probably pressure plates on the grounds, and God knows what else," Xavier agreed. He ran his fingers along the edge of an end table, his face unreadable. "He's not just keeping people out. He's keeping us in."

I let that sink in, the knowledge settling uncomfortably in my stomach. We'd traded one prison for another, albeit a much more luxurious one.

"Chance," Xavier called suddenly, "resume monitoring."

"Audio monitoring resumed," the AI responded promptly. "How may I assist you?"

"You report to Algerone, correct?"

There was the briefest of pauses. "I have reporting protocols to Mr. Etremont regarding security concerns and operational status. However, personal interactions with residents are confidential unless they pose a threat to safety or property."

"Define 'threat,'" Xavier pressed.

"Physical harm to self or others, attempts to compromise the security system, property damage exceeding standard wear and tear, or actions that would violate Mr. Etremont's explicit protocols."

"And what are those protocols, exactly?"

Another pause, longer this time. "I am not authorized to disclose Mr. Etremont's complete security protocols. However, I can confirm that your safety is the primary directive, Mr. Laskin."

Xavier's jaw tightened. "Of course it is."

I moved to his side, close enough that our shoulders touched. The contact seemed to ground him, some of the tension leaving his body at the simple point of connection.

"Let's check out the rest," I suggested, nodding toward a hallway that presumably led to other rooms.

Xavier followed my lead, his fingers brushing mine as we moved deeper into our gilded cage. The hallway opened into a bedroom that made me stop in my tracks. The centerpiece was a massive bed that could easily fit four people, covered in what looked like absurdly expensive linens in shades of charcoal and deep blue.

"Your preferences have been accommodated, Mr. Laskin," Chance informed us. "The room temperature is set to 68 degrees, which our records indicate is your preferred sleeping temperature, and the bedding is hypoallergenic."

Xavier's eyebrows shot up. "My preferred— How the fuck do you know that?"

"Mr. Etremont maintains comprehensive profiles on family members for comfort and security purposes."

The implications of that statement hung heavily in the air.

"Chance, activate privacy mode," I said quickly, wanting to give Xavier space to process without an audience.

"Privacy mode activated for Master Bedroom."

Xavier's shoulders sagged as soon as the AI confirmed our privacy. "He's been tracking my fucking temperature preferences?"

I didn't have an answer that would help, so I just moved closer, letting him decide if he wanted contact. He did, slipping an arm around my waist and pulling me against him hard enough it made my breath catch.

"At least he got one thing right," Xavier murmured against my hair.

"What's that?"

"Putting us together. I wouldn't have stayed otherwise."

The need in his voice made my stomach tighten. Everything we'd built between us in the past week—the trust, the surrender, the connection that defied labels—all of it felt fragile in this strange new environment. I needed to anchor him, to remind him that whatever else changed, this was constant.

The bedroom had its own bathroom, which was possibly larger than the entire trailer I'd shared with Wattson. A shower big enough for a family of four dominated one wall, with multiple showerheads and what looked like steam functions. The bathtub could double as a small swimming pool.

"This is obscene," I said, running my fingers over the edge of the marble countertop.

Xavier leaned against the doorframe, watching me explore. There was something darker in his eyes now, something possessive and calculating that made my heart race. I recognized that look from our nights together, from when he'd first dripped wax onto my skin, from when he'd watched me come apart under his control.

"You like it, though."

It wasn't a question. He could read me too well, could see the way my eyes lingered on the luxury I'd never experienced before. Growing up with barely enough to get by, then the spartan existence of Army barracks, and finally the cramped trailer… Nothing in my life had prepared me for this level of opulence.

"It doesn't matter if I like it," I said, turning to face him. "It's a cage. A really nice cage, but still a cage."

Xavier's fingers curled possessively around my hip, drawing me back against him. "We're not staying here forever. Just long enough to figure out who's hunting us."

The press of his body against mine sent heat spiraling through me even in the midst of crisis. Two fires in one week, our lives upended, and still my body responded to him like a compass finding north. The wildness was still there in his eyes, but now there was something else too—a hunger that had nothing to do with vengeance.

"I know," I said, leaning into his touch. "And this place has resources we can use. Not just security but tech, access to information."

His mouth curved against my neck. "Always the pragmatist."

"One of us has to be."

A chime sounded, startling us both. Xavier tensed, hand automatically moving toward where his weapon would normally be.

"Chance, what was that?" I called, suspending privacy mode.

"The arrival notification system," the AI replied smoothly. "The remaining members of the Laskin family and their associates have passed through the outer security perimeter. Estimated arrival at the main entrance in four minutes."

Xavier's expression darkened. "Everyone's coming?"

"That is correct, Mr. Laskin. All invited family members accepted Mr. Etremont's offer of sanctuary."

I raised my eyebrows, unable to hide my surprise. "Even Xion?"

"Xion and Boone Calhoun were the last to confirm, approximately forty-seven minutes ago."

Xavier's jaw tightened. "This should be interesting. Xion hates Algerone almost as much as I do. We should go meet them," he said, already moving toward the door.

"Yeah, let's go," I agreed, following him. "Chance, directions to the main foyer?"

"Certainly, Mr. Astrada. Please follow the illuminated pathway."

The journey through The Sentinel's labyrinthine corridors was disorienting by design, I realized. Even with Chance's guidance through subtle lighting cues along the baseboards, I found myself struggling to commit the layout to memory. Another security feature, no doubt, intended to disorient intruders and keep guests dependent on their hosts.

We arrived at the foyer just as the front doors opened, admitting a stream of familiar faces, all wearing various expressions of wariness, exhaustion, and awe.

War entered first with his husband, Pax, and holding little Charlie's hand. Behind them trailed Lettie, slouching with teenage indifference that couldn't quite hide her fascination with their surroundings. Charlie clutched her stuffed rabbit and took in the place with wide eyes.

"This place is fucking ridiculous," War muttered, catching sight of us. "You okay, Xavier?"

Xavier shrugged, the gesture so deliberately casual it had to be forced. "Fine."

"At least nobody got hurt," Paxton said quietly, his hand moving to squeeze War's.

Shepherd came next, his clinical gaze sweeping the space. Eli, his leather collar visible beneath his shirt, stuck close to his side, one hand clutching Shepherd's sleeve. I didn't miss the way he flinched at the automated door closing behind them.

"Motion sensors embedded in the flooring," Shepherd noted, his voice carrying in the high-ceilinged space. "Thermal imaging in the light fixtures. I see Algerone has spared no expense on our new prison."

"Chance says it's state-of-the art," I offered.

Eli's eyes darted to the ceiling. "Chance?"

"The AI system running this place," Xavier explained, his voice tight. "Always listening, always watching."

"Not unlike daddy dearest," came a new voice as Xander swept in, his flamboyant purple fur-lined coat swirling dramatically around his ankles. Ash followed him in, scanning the room with wary eyes.

"Don't call him that," Xavier and Xion said in unison as the latter entered with Boone.

Xion looked pale and drawn, one hand gripping Boone's forearm with white-knuckled intensity. Boone's expression was thunderous, his gaze constantly scanning for threats.

"We're really doing this?" Xion asked, his voice tight. "Hiding in Algerone's fortress like scared children?"

"Not hiding," Annie corrected, appearing from another corridor. "Regrouping."

River and Theo were the last to arrive, slipping in silently. River's face was an expressionless mask, but Theo's eyes were red-rimmed, his shoulders hunched.

"They found more devices in the wreckage," River said without preamble. "Phoenix left another signature. Different design, same concept."

Xavier moved to my side, fingers brushing mine in what might look casual to others, but felt like an anchor to me. "What kind of devices?"

"Incendiary. Professional grade." River's clinical detachment did nothing to soften the blow of his words. "Whoever Phoenix is, they know how fire works. Almost as well as you do."

"The funeral home is a total loss," Theo added softly. "Everything's gone."

A heavy silence fell over the group as the enormity of what they'd lost finally settled on everyone's shoulders. Not just possessions but history, security, a way of life. The Laskin family would never be the same again.

"So what now?" Lettie asked, breaking the silence. "We just live here and wait for them to find us again?"

"We don't wait," Xavier said, his voice hardening with resolve. "We hunt."

The word hung in the air, stirring something primal in the gathered family. Even those who weren't directly involved in the vigilante side of things straightened slightly, a collective shift from victims to predators. I'd seen Xavier like this before—tracking down corrupt officials who'd harmed the innocent, cyberstalking predators who thought they were untouchable online. I'd watched from afar as he'd meted out his own brand of justice. But now I was inside the inner circle, part of this strange, dangerous family.

"We’re going to use the resources here to track Phoenix," I said.

"All while living in Algerone's pocket," Xion muttered.

"It's temporary," Annie said firmly. "We use what we need, we find who's targeting us, and then we leave."

War crossed his arms. "And when Algerone decides he doesn't want us to leave?"

"That's a problem for later," Xavier said. "Right now, we focus on finding Phoenix."

"And when we do?" Xander asked, a dangerous gleam in his eye.

"Then we do what we do best," Xion said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Xavier, Xander, and Xion all exchanged a look before saying in unison, "We kill the bastard."

The conviction in Xavier's voice sent a shiver through me. This was the predator I'd first glimpsed two years ago, the one who hunted through code and flame. The one who'd shown me a darkness I'd never known existed inside me, a darkness that responded to his with eager recognition. I wasn't just an observer anymore. I was part of the hunt now.