Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 138274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
“Shuli—”
“You know I’m right. And I don’t mind going out like this. It’s better than a lot of alternatives—do not let me down, though. You get yourself out of here, and when your own time to die comes, don’t blink at it. I’m not.”
The future king seemed speechless. “Fuck, man.”
Shuli looked down because he couldn’t bear the surprising pain in those pale green eyes. “Damn shame to waste this coat, though. It fits like a fucking glove—and it does not make my ass look big.”
Jerking his arm out of L.W.’s hold, Shuli stared hard at the male. “Don’t waste this chance I’m giving you, okay?”
With that, he started off for that hallway.
Like the future of all vampires depended on him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Zsadist heard the explosion first.
The unmistakable whoosh! sound fired off about four blocks away from where he was staking out the induction site with the tunnel access in its basement. And almost before the blast echo faded, he got a Mayday text so he immediately pulled an up-and-out from his position behind a picked-clean car.
He wasn’t the only fighter who arrived on scene to a short building that was nothing but a windowless block of concrete: Phury, Xcor, and Tohr were right behind him, zeroing in on the smoking aperture that had been blown in the front facade.
No one was coming out, though.
Forming a stack by the breach, he was glad they didn’t have to worry about any municipal surveillance cameras on this rundown block. They did not need cop-bots getting in the way right now.
Following established entry protocol, the four of them moved in sequence into the interior and spread out to clear the space. He had a vague impression of office furniture litter, staleness, and rot, but the baby powder and fresh blood under the stink was what he was worried about. And then he was in front as they closed in on a fire door—
The gunfire in its back hall was rapid, and he rushed forward.
In the corridor beyond, smoke made visibility low, but the hulking shadow that was backing toward them, while shooting and carrying something, was too fucking huge to miss.
And he knew who it was.
Zsadist jumped ahead of L.W.—was that Shuli he was lugging? Fuck.
There was no time to worry about injuries. Z took control, double-palming his weapons in front of himself as he back-flatted, pushed forward, and just kept discharging bullets into the swirling smoke. When there was a sharp series of signal whistles from his twin, he changed tactics. No more offense, now it was an extraction.
He began backing up—
A sudden flare of pain in his side was nothing compared to what was going on with his shoulder. But that was another thing he couldn’t worry about. When he was out of bullets, he swapped magazines with practiced moves, and then he was continuing on the retreat, until he’d backed out of the fire door.
“On your left,” Phury said.
“Roger.”
Working in tandem, they kept the square footage controlled, and when he could smell fresh air from the blown entry, he felt a secondary, almost-outta-jail adrenaline rush.
That lasted until they made it out on the street.
And were ambushed.
There was an entire flank of lessers advancing from down at the river, and the slayers immediately started shooting.
It was clusterfuck time—and Shuli and L.W. were both injured and in the middle of it.
Shoving his hands into his jacket, Z whistled high and sharp. And then he started pulling out the pins of grenades and throwing them like he was in the World Series, real wind-up-and-follow-through time.
The first of the explosions lit up the narrow street like daylight, and gave excellent visualization: Half a dozen slayers, who’d been rushing forward without much coordination, pulled a spin and retreat—that wasn’t going to last.
The second blew one of them up, fragments of flesh flying in chunks, the black splatter washing the windowless building next to it. The third drove the others back farther, but was again a reminder that the withdrawal was only temporary. He had one more and then he was going to have to yield his position. He could only pray that his brothers had evac’d the injured and there had been no casualties—
Flashing blue lights.
And headlights.
The Caldwell Police. Of course.
The only good thing was that the slayers scattered like the rats without tails they’d been before Lash had turned them: The Lessening Society didn’t want law enforcement complications any more than the brothers did.
Zsadist turned around and assessed his options. He could head back into the building, but if there were other lessers in there? No way he could dematerialize. He was off-the-chain activated. No chance of calming down—
Abruptly, he was spotlit like a billboard as one of the two patrol cars came at him like it was going to run him right over.
As he went to jump out of the way, the CPD bot slammed on its brakes and skidded into a swing, its vehicle’s rear coming around so that it stopped with the driver’s side right by Z.