Page 22 of The Wayward Sons & The Vampires of Fortune (The Wayward Sons #4)

T he commotion in the precinct came to a screeching halt as the two of them escorted me out of the interrogation room.

All eyes were on us. If only they knew my handcuffs weren’t secured.

The onslaught of confusion and curiosity was suffocating, but I bit back the rising feeling.

I was so fucking tired and rubbed raw from sitting in that room.

“This way,” the guy with the briefcase said. I probably should’ve asked his name. That was the polite thing to do when someone decided to rescue your ass from mercenary vampires.

“Will we be alone?” Andrea asked, her hand tight on my elbow.

“This hallway leads to a service elevator,” he explained. “They’ve already cleared it for us. If we take it down to the lower level—”

“You don’t want to be in close quarters with them,” I warned.

“—and across the garage, we can access the building next door,” he continued, never once acknowledging me. His voice was low as he spoke only to her. “It’s abandoned and has four floors. We make it to the top—”

“Yes, because being trapped on the roof of a building with them is a brilliant fucking plan,” I bit out. Jesus fuck, did they honestly think this sounded like a rescue plan.

“—and we get over to the next building.” He just kept going. I didn’t like being left out. Not when my life was hanging in the balance here. “From there… well, you know that plan.”

“No, I don’t,” I interjected before she could say anything. When I tried to stop in the hall, she gave me a hard shove forward.

“Making a scene is the last thing you want to do at this point, Collins,” Andrea growled. “We have enough shit to deal with without having to handle the entire precinct getting involved in our exit. Do you want to risk their lives too?”

“These vampires don’t care about humans,” I said. It was a fact she should’ve known. If she didn’t… I didn’t want to go there.

“Yeah, but that won’t stop her from hurting them if she has to,” he chimed in. “Believe me, she’s done it. When was the last time you tossed someone through a wall?”

“The asshole had it coming,” she shot back. Threw a man through a wall? Jesus fucking Christ. Who the hell were these two? What the fuck had Gray done to get them involved?

“I think I deserve to know the plan,” I insisted under my breath.

Although, I kept walking because what the fuck else was I going to do?

Cause a scene in the middle of the precinct?

That’d go over real well, considering they all thought I was a serial killer.

I’d get my ass shot long before vampires ever got ahold of me.

“You’ll know when you know,” he assured me. And it wasn’t all that reassuring. This whole thing reeked of chaos and uncertainty—two things I didn’t like. Not in a situation like this. Not when there were too many lives at stake.

Both fell silent as they escorted me away from the main area of the precinct. Down several hallways, past closed-off offices, and into a significantly less frequented area of the building. The service elevator was huge with more than enough room for all of us.

Planting a hand on my chest, Andrea shoved me hard until my back hit the wall. I was quick to undo the handcuffs and rub the uncomfortable skin around my wrists. Fuck, it felt good to be free.

“Tell me how I can—”

“Stay,” she ordered. It was the only word she said before she turned to the other guy… who was taking his shirt off.

What the fuck?

Before I could say a word, she followed his lead, just yanking her shirt off and tossing it aside. As she did, he opened the briefcase and tossed something at her—a jacket maybe?

“This might be the weirdest place we’ve done this shit,” he commented.

“Halloween—”

“The haunted house,” he said over her. “We scarred someone that day.”

“We saved their asses that day,” she retorted.

“Who the hell are you people?” I demanded, but they ignored me.

And so I idiotically stood there as the two of them got undressed in the elevator like I wasn’t even there.

I didn’t have a clue what was happening as they pulled on clothes that were damn near armor-esque—black with color accents, thick, layered, and covering damn near every inch of their body.

Boots, gloves, high necks, belts with weapons.

Jesus fucking Christ. It was like something straight out of one of Gray’s superhero movies.

The elevator dinged, and I tensed as the doors opened.

A man in full tactical gear with a mask covered face stood on the other side.

The heavy artillery he carried would’ve been intimidating enough if it weren’t for the skull on his mask.

He strode right past the other two—they let him through—and grabbed a fistful of my shirt, pinning me hard against the wall.

I tried to push back, but he barely budged.

“If you want to get out of here alive, you listen to me, you hear me?” he snapped, his accent thick enough to rival Gray’s. “Not them. Me. Got it?”

“Yeah.” That depended entirely on what he said.

“Good.” Stepping back slightly, he handed me a small Bluetooth piece. “Put this in—don’t fuckin’ argue with me. Just do it.”

I did.

“Take this,” he continued and removed a gun from his belt.

“Guns won’t kill a vampire,” I said. If I was explaining this, we’d already fucking lost.

“Vampire-killin’ bullets will,” he retorted. Well, that got my attention. “That right there has got thirteen bullets and one in the chamber. You go through that and you’re dead, you hear me?”

“Yeah…” My brain was mostly caught on the vampire-killing bullets thing. It couldn’t be that easy to just shoot and kill a vampire.

“Now, I don’t want Ryder fuckin’ Collins, you hear me?” he kept talking. “I want Sergeant Josiah Hartford.”

My gaze flicked up at the name, my heart lurching into my throat.

“I want the man with damn near perfect marksmanship. The man the Army touted around until they didn’t need him no more,” he told me.

My body tensed as he cited bits of my military history.

“These things? They don’t kill easily. You got one shot…

right here, dead center. You miss, you die.

And those bullets ain’t easy to come by, so if you can’t make the shot, you don’t fuckin’ take it. ”

“Okay.” That was a hell of a shot to make, even under good circumstances. Fighting for my life against a vampire wasn’t an ideal circumstance when it came to hitting a perfect shot.

“They’re fast, they’re ugly, and they ain’t goin’ to wait around for you to get the shot in,” he continued.

Yeah, already knew that. I glanced over his shoulder at the other two, and he snapped his fingers in my face.

“Eyes on me, not on them. They’re the tanks.

You and me? We’re the snipers. We ain’t goin’ with them.

They’re just makin’ a path for us, got it? ”

“Yeah.” No, no, I did not. None of this made any sense.

And neither did the shit going on behind him as Andrea tapped her earpiece quickly.

A mask phased over her face—something straight out of a goddamn superhero movie.

Bright red in color, it molded to the shape of her face while the eyes were left an unsettling white color.

Next to her, my so-called lawyer did the same and ended up with a blue mask.

“Who the fuck are you people?” I demanded.

“Just hunters with damn good resources,” the masked man replied.

He reached for my face, and my hand flew up on instinct.

He caught it with ease to stop me and touched the Bluetooth in my ear.

Something uncomfortable moved over my face—something inexplicable and probably the same kind of mask they were wearing.

I was so far out of my league.

“Crimson online,” Andrea said.

“Cobalt online,” the lawyer chimed in. He gave a full body shake and murmured, “Fuck, it feels good to be back.”

“Omega-One online,” the guy in front of me said.

“ Do you have the Sergeant? ” The voice was loud and clear in my ear.

“We have the Sergeant, and we are outbound,” he confirmed.

“ Good. Ryder Collins, ” he began, “ my name is Riley Marx, and my team is here to rescue you. ”