Seven+Four (Angels of Wrath Book 6)

I’m fearless, nothing has ever thrown or shaken me…except fucking Sari. He cranks up my protectiveness to a homicidal level. And I’m going to have my bloody revenge.

Trent the fucker Dohner.

My head is fucking killing me. That damn coward had the audacity to hit me while I gave him my back in an alley outside one of my cafés. I’d just received the message from Ezra saying Sari had been taken by two thugs to the woodlands around Tonica—a small town approximately two hours from Chicago—and the fucker took advantage of it. He left me for dead in that alley, but I was only out cold for half an hour. Rague and Rami found me, and we drove here together to get Sari.

Rami found out Trent was behind it. First, his aunt had a small property near Tonica, and second, Serena linked the two thugs who took Sari away to him. The AI located them in a diner with Trent sliding a suspicious envelope their way. If I’d known he was the shithead behind the kidnapping, I’d have ended him right in that alley.

Fuck! His tracker didn’t work but thanks to the bracelet I made him wear, I knew he was still alive.

It took too long to reach Sari. He has been roughed up by a sick piece of shit right under my nose. If anybody was to kidnap him, it should have been me! The sociopathic killer who owns him.

Sari is caressing my face with a hesitant smile on his lips and a hint of determination in his eyes. I turn my face and kiss his palm as my hand slides down to squeeze his ass. Fucking hell. Need to think of a way to show him that me controlling his life is what’s best for him. But first things first.

“The fucker?” I ask.

Ezra is the one to answer. “Inside the cottage, unconscious. The other two dead in the back.”

“You?” I know it wasn’t a coincidence the fact that Ezra was outside the restaurant where Sari went to help organize Sully’s party. He was stalking him. Was Ezra’s intention to talk to him? I told him to stay away from him.

“The fucker killed the other two and then was knocked out by Sariel when he went back inside the cottage.”

I look down at Sari, feeling so fucking proud of him. The deep sea of his eyes is at its lightest, meaning he cried.

“Are you okay?” he asks, inhaling shakily. I hug him hard.

“Relative to what?” I respond cockily.

He sighs. “It’s so weird that my tracker didn’t work.”

“Rami said something was messing with the signal.”

His expression changes, brows drawing together.

“Phoenix was.” As soon as I hear Ezra’s words, I let go of Sari to land a hard one on my brother’s jaw.

He grunts and then spits blood on the white ground. “I’ll let you have one.”

“Fuck you!” He’s gotten on my nerves enough by doing everything wrong. “What are you scheming now?”

“Uri!” Sari slides between us, and with an appeasing look, he tries to calm me down. “He told you where I was.”

“He contacted me after you arrived here and not the moment you were taken. I didn’t know where you were for two hours, two entire hours. I’m pretty sure he could have stopped the kidnapping, but he didn’t, eh, brother?”

Anyone who could take Sari away or does nothing while that happens is an enemy. Ezra keeps his unfazed stare on me without uttering a word, confirming my thoughts. The fucking bastard.

“Now I hear this Phoenix shit,” I hiss. “You weren’t here to save Sari, but to observe him. To study him like you’ve been doing with all of us for months.”

“I can’t deny that. He was quite the surprise.”

I have the urge to throttle the fuck out of him.

Sari’s hands push against my chest as I send a murderous gaze Ezra’s way. “Whatever his motivations, I managed just fine. I’m grateful he told you my location. He didn’t have to, you know?”

Why is Sari defending him now? It’s turning my burning anger into a blazing fire.

“Is this how you treat what’s yours?” I bark. Ezra told me he saw Sari as his, and still, he didn’t try to protect him.

“I treated him with respect,” he deadpans, moving his eyes to Sari like they are exchanging a secret fucking conversation I can’t be part of. “I saw Sariel’s file. I suspected he could take care of himself,” he keeps going.

“And I did.” I feel a tap on my chest and look down at Sari’s bruised face. “I did. I took care of it…by myself.”

“This again? I don’t doubt your abilities, Baby Blue, but you’re too trusting and not a very good judge of character.” His instincts are worth shit. His soft heart and naivety are the precise reason why we are in this predicament. That’s exactly why he needs protection, which Ezra didn’t provide.

He sighs as I push my face against Sari’s hair and breathe him in again. It’s calming, temporarily quieting the murderous whispers inside my head while grounding me to the spot.

Nevertheless, this thing with my brother isn’t going to end here, so I’ll push it to the side for now. “Tonight you will tell me everything you know about Phoenix, even if I have to punch it out of your smug mouth.”

He smirks bigger, then outstretches his hand. A red Band-Aid is lying on his palm. I don’t accept his offer, but Sari does. He applies it to my forehead just as I see Rami and Rague rushing our way.noveldrama

Rami wraps both me and Sari in a bear hug.

“Let the fuck go!” I threaten him.

“Hugs are a great way to blow off steam.”

“I like the more traditional way.” I groan as he finally lets go. Mauling and killing are so much more satisfying.

“Fuck!” Rami turns to Ezra. “Look, the clone is finally showing his face.”

“The hacker with the dirty mouth,” my brother counters. “And the muscleman who likes music.”

Rague just growls his way before turning to Sari. “Okay?”

He answers with a nod.

“We scoped out the place and already moved the unconscious fucker into the van,” Rague lets me know. I don’t need to remind them he’s mine to torture, they already know that.

“How should we dispose of the two corpses?”

“A Molotov cocktail?” Rague suggests; I can hear the anticipation in his voice.

“That again, pyromaniac?” Rami mocks Rague’s love of setting things on fire.

“Setting it on fire is the best option,” Ezra interjects.

“Why?” I ask, waiting for his answer to shoot it down.

“The Lockhart exchange principle.”

“The criminologist from the nineteenth century?” Sari sounds interested as he turns his head toward him. I keep him in my arms; don’t like this new coziness between them.

“More scientific stuff,” Rami mutters.

“Lockhart stated that it was impossible for a criminal to leave a crime scene without leaving some trace behind, hair, blood, etc.…or to leave the crime scene without taking something with them.”

“That’s why it’s called the exchange principle.” Sari nods.

“And that’s why we should burn the whole place down, and afterward our clothes. No evidence left behind,” Ezra finishes.

And fuck, if Sari agrees, it’s fine by me.

“That actually makes sense, clone.” Rami seems taken too.

“Science rules! Let’s burn it, baby.” Rague’s raspy excitement is too fucking much.

“You do it,” I tell them. “Don’t fucking follow us!” I hitch Sari up, and he instantly wraps his legs around my waist as I walk deeper into the forest and away from the others. He weighs absolutely nothing. Each step makes him shiver in my arms as he feels my half-hard cock rubbing against his hole.

He’s holding onto me so tightly, clutching me to him with his face buried in my neck.

“Uri?” His voice is quiet, and there’s a strain in it I’ve never heard before, like something is breaking just underneath his words.

“I’m here, and I know where you’re going to go. I’ve known since the day I first saw you. You have no other place but by my side.” I state those facts as clear as I possibly can as I stop near a tree and put Sari down to pull his pants off. It’s damn cold, but I’ll warm him up soon enough.

“Where did he touch you?” I whisper darkly as I rip the thin lace off his stiff cock. I haul him into my arms again and push his back against a tree trunk.

“Nowhere,” he pants, knowing what I mean. I can see the sincerity shining brightly in his half-lidded, light blue eyes peering back at me—and the desire. The awe and the excitement. It all takes my damn breath away.

He’s fucking gorgeous. Messy, black hair reaching down his shoulders. Parted lips seemingly about to say something seductively enticing. His smooth skin is flawless, and I fucking hate seeing those bruises on Sari’s face again. I can’t make them disappear, but I can obliterate them from his memories if even for only a short period of time.

“I’ll shove my dick so deep, you’ll feel me in your throat,” I let the dirty promise reach his ear as I grind said jeans-clad part against his balls and hole. He shivers before crushing his mouth against mine with messy desperation. Our tongues twist and thrust together as hectic breaths clash. His mouth is somehow docile and greedy at the same time, while I kiss him so hard it feels like I’m pulling his tongue out.

His legs shift anxiously before spreading wider to let my hips press more firmly between them. He breaks the kiss and gazes up at me with lust-dazed eyes, breathing hard, tongue wetting his red lips.

I know every inch of his stunning body. I’ve fucked him so many times, I know exactly what sets him off. I’ve touched him so thoroughly, I know every single sweet spot. And right now, I want us to tangle into each other more and more until we turn into a hot, crying, grunting, dirty mess.

Sari takes one of my hands and brings it to his face. He kisses my palm and gives it a long lick before sucking my middle finger into his mouth.

“Use only one finger. I want it to sting,” the tempter says sexily before swallowing my finger again.

My teeth sink into my lower lip as I groan and grab a handful of his hair. All the blood rushes to my cock.

“I fucking want my whole body inside you,” I growl. His tongue is drenching my finger in saliva, sucking it like a fucking pro.

Unable to wait any longer, I pull my hand back and plunge the slick finger inside him all the way to the knuckle. Sari gasps, pulling at my dreads as I start to work him.

“Look at me when I fuck you open,” I demand, grabbing his cheek hard, forcing those pools to mine. Jesus motherfucking Christ, the face he makes while getting fucked is the living embodiment of lust.

“Uri, Uri, Uri.” My name on his lips is like a prayer.

I’m going to consume him whole, leave no fucking crumbs of him. I’m inebriated by him, struggling to stop myself before there’s nothing left.

“Show me those nipples,” I order him as my finger keeps pumping inside his wet heat. “Pull that sweater up and hold it in your mouth. Bite on it.”

So fucking sexy, that birthmark under his right nipple. I grunt, and pushing his body up, I suck on it before moving to the bud. My free hand alternates slaps and pinches on the other nipple while Sari writhes under me so fucking beautifully.

Shit, I’m so hard for him. I need to be inside him. I remove my finger and open my jeans with quick movements before lining up the leaking crown of my cock and forcing the whole length inside him.

His cry is muffled by the fabric in his mouth as he bites hard on it. His glazed eyes go wide as I rapidly bottom out. I growl all my animal satisfaction at taking what’s mine, of filling him deep, stretching him. He’s full of cock. My long, thick, pierced cock. His hole throbbing around it.

He’s twitching and sucking my dick, so fucking hungry for it. I don’t give him time to get used to my thickness and start pounding, giving him more of the sting he so eagerly demanded before. His lean torso arches as I grip hard on his waist, leaving my fingerprints on his pale skin.

“Yes. Yes. Hurt me,” I think he begs around the sweater in his mouth.

“You’re so good at taking it raw.” I grunt, letting the bare pleasure spread all over my body.

Sari can’t stop broken, wanton moans from leaving his mouth with every thrust I give him. He’s clinging to my body, his hands roaming all over my back before finally stopping on my ass to pull me deeper inside him.

“You feel how deep I am? I’m going to wreck you from the inside out.” I want to get where no one will ever reach inside of him.

His lips let go of the sweater. “Rip me to pieces. Own my body. Take my soul. I’ll give it all to you,” he cries out, completely lost to the bliss. He feels so fucking amazing, custom-made for me and only me.

“I’ll take it without asking. It’s all mine. Never fucking doubt it.” I grab his wrists and yank them up over his head against the tree trunk. Keeping him pinned under me, at my mercy. What a fucking vision.

“Don’t let me forget then. Leave your marks on me. Punish me for pushing you away. Do it, Uri!”

I give his side two spanks before letting my nails trail down to his thigh. His mouth opens in a silent moan as I see the orgasm about to explode inside him. Oh, but not yet. I grip his dripping cock hard, halting the detonation. My thumb moves on the slit, making Sari scream.

“You deserve every bruise, every bite, every mark I make on your beautiful body. You’ll never say no to me again,” I growl darkly.

“But I will,” he gasps out. “Aren’t you afraid…I’ll leave…again?”

What the fuck did he say? I let my obsession run free. “Then I’ll make fucking sure you can’t walk!”

I piston roughly inside of him; my thumb is still plugging his dick, making it impossible for him to come. Sari is thrashing against the tree, offering his slender neck to me. I let go of his wrists to pull his hair to one side, and I strike down like a damn snake, sinking my teeth deep. The taste of his sweet blood turns my desire raw, while Sari screams out all his unfathomable pleasure.

“Tell me I’m yours. Only me.” His voice breaks as tears start falling.

“Mine. Nobody else’s. I will fuck you until I have eradicated all your doubts.”

He’s pulling my anger apart with every tight clench, every wet kiss, and every erotic moan.

I move my thumb away, and he suddenly throws his head back, neck stretched in ecstasy, his hair a wild mane around his trembling shoulders as cum shoots out and trails down his belly. I wrap my hand around his mouth to silence his moans, which seems to heighten his pleasure.

He clenches around me so hard he forces the jizz out of my dick. And I bellow in bliss as I thrust hard and come deep within him. He shudders against me while I ride out wave after wave of pure ecstasy. In this moment Sari, my Sari, fills my entire being.

I hear both our harsh, ragged breathing in the silent forest. Sari’s small hands caress the broad expanse of my chest. Damn, my body refuses to pull away from him. His flushed skin and sated, affectionate smile, the way his long eyelashes form shadows on those red cheeks. The taste of his throat under my tongue, sweet and iron-like from the skin I broke before.

My cock is still buried deep, and the heat and pliancy of his body makes it twitch. It feels like I’ll never go fully soft. It’s always like this with him. I could stay inside him all day, fucking into him lazily, and the moment my dick hardened enough I could go again. And again. And again.

I lift my head and take his mouth, sipping his taste. When I let go, Sari’s sweet lips are curved into the most brilliant of smiles. I imprint it on my brain to remain there forever.

Hours later, we are back at the base. We stopped at a clinic to get a CT scan and an MRI to see if there were signs of concussion—Sari insisted I got checked too. Once the doctor cleared us—he told us to rest and to come back if we felt dizzy or nauseated—we left. A little bribe assured us his total discretion.

I won’t take it easy, though. Fuck that! I’ll give it my worst.

Trent the fucker is in the FUNS room, naked, lying on a table. Hands and feet tied by a chain. Usually I like to keep my donors on a chair, but the fucker here is a special case. The revenge kind. My very first. And after what Rami and Rague found at the cottage, the perfect donor.

They discovered several pictures of naked men bruised and tied up. After a quick check, Serena let us know that every single man in those photos had gone missing or been found dead in Chicago and the surrounding areas in the last four years. Nine men in total. Hunter is collaborating with the police on a case about one of those men.

“We have a serial killer in the base!” Lori declares.

“Whoo! We haven’t had a revenge one since I met you, Raph.” Michael is looking at Trent with curiosity.

“And you almost died,” Raph retorts, not showing the same sentiment, keeping his back to the FUNS room.

“You were the one who got kidnapped and almost strangled. I saved you,” his husband counters vehemently. He saved him? My perfect aim did.

“Should we recall the shooting part?” Rami reminds him. I was awesome as always. Michael…not so much.

I tune their conversation out, glancing at Trent the fucker first, before my gaze stops on Sari. He surely fought tooth and nail, judging by the cuts, broken bones, and bruises he left on the fucker. A sense of pride fills my chest as I smirk at my gorgeous, astonishing partner. My dick agrees as it twitches, wanting more of him.

He’s been cuddled by everyone since we came back from the clinic—well Raph bumped his shoulder in something that passed for a pat.

Lori and Ollie are doing a weird celebratory-cleansing dance around him, now flailing their arms and skipping like drunk idiots.

“The Suri get-together plan worked! Cough it up, boys.” Lori stops in front of Gabe with a gloating expression.

My brother sighs. “You’ll have casual Friday at work with Mexican or Chinese food takeaways.”

“Did you really think I’d lose?” He taps Gabe’s cheek. “Hooking two handsome guys together, puh-leeze, my work was basically done for me. I just set it up and walked away.”

Is he talking about me and Sari?

“So, you’re a pimp,” Ollie taunts him.

“No. I’m the sass master.” Lori winks at Sari.

“Who won the Uri-will-fuck-it-up bet, though?” Michael asks. He hates those bets!

“What the fuck! I didn’t!” I growl. Is this the wager Linda was talking about?

“Oh, you did.” Ollie sniffs.

“Ren won,” Raph replies. “He chose today.”

“Bunch of idiots,” I mutter. They’re lucky I’m busy preparing myself for Trent the fucker. I want to focus all of my twisted thoughts on him.

“Where’s Hunter?” Sari asks Ollie. His voice is weak, slightly raspy.

“With the triplets. They went on one of their animal liberation missions.”

Ezra comes out of the lab—he’s been inspecting it for the last thirty minutes—and stops near me. I told him I want answers, so with the others, we decided to bring him here.

Rague and Rami are on their way back from the cottage. They had to stay behind to make sure the flames didn’t reach the forest.

“Is nobody going to talk about the doppelgänger elephant in the room?” Lori suddenly asks. “I mean, there’s two of them now! My hot-twins fantasy would be alive if they weren’t both Uri, ugh.”

“I’m not Uri,” Ezra states as I send a glare Lori’s way.

He pouts, patting his curls as he salaciously says, “So, doppelgänger, tell us about yourself. Every scandalous detail.”

“That’ll take a lifetime to recount.”

“Ah! Thought all psychos were ornery.” Lori’s hand waves in Raph’s direction.

“Gabe, you can do much better.” Raph’s taunt earns him a flipped finger.

The gremlin turns to Sari, who’s writing something on a notepad. “A little suggestion. Ass grabbing is an important part of every relationship. Who needs a love letter when you can just smack it and say’ I’m happy this beauty is fucking mine.’”

Gabe suddenly spanks his fiancé’s ass.

“Hey!” Lori lets out.

“I’m happy this beauty is fucking mine,” Bez teases him.

I move toward Sari; one arm wraps around his waist, while my hand grabs the notepad.

“It’s time,” I tell him. He said he wants to be in the FUNS room when I work on the fucker. I look into his turquoise eyes. They’re red, he keeps blinking. Did he change his mind? He should lie down. I’m about to push him toward the lab when he gives me a sharp nod.

Well, he wants to make more decisions. This is me not interfering—in a controlled and limited space.

We walk into the FUNS room, followed by Raph—since revenge kills are never done alone, part of the code.

“Is he even alive?” Ollie asks, looking at Trent’s unmoving, bloody body on the table.

Sari replies, “I-I didn’t kill him. I just subdued him. The rest is up to Uri.”

He more than tenderized the fucker for me. It’s more fun when I’m the one to break the donor. “There’s still a lot I can do,” I say as I press against Trent’s eyelid with my thumb, applying increasing pressure.

Eye gouging is painful, but really it’s the psychological torture I’m more interested in right now. Being abruptly woken up by excruciating pain, his brain can’t process anything else. It’s telling him to make it stop, to move away. But he cannot move, terrified to death, overwhelmed by the agonizing sensation, the only thing he can do is take it and bleed.

“We all bleed the same; it’s how we react to the blood that differentiates us, isn’t it?” I declare in a flat tone, just to let him know who is inflicting the pain.

My thumb sinks into his eye ball, ripping a glass-shattering scream out of his lungs.

“You’ve never felt real suffering before today. You touched what’s mine, hurt him, tried to take him from me. Pain will be the only companion in your last moment on earth. And it’s going to be a very long moment, dipshit!” I remove my thumb and grab the wet tissue from the table to clean it.

Revenge can work splendidly if you know when to aim all the contained fury and let it go. And methods that are horrifying to most people can turn into sublime designs with infinite possibilities.

“Where should I start cutting?” I turn to Sari. He takes my hand in his, a firm grip, eyes on Trent. “Tongue or dick?”

“Where will the wheel of death stop today?” Michael interjects. I need to tell Rague to put a damn switch on that damn intercom from inside the room as well.

“Rip out every one of his organs and grind them to a pulp,” Raph decides to give me his useless opinion.

I ignore him. “Should I pull all his teeth?” A whimper comes from the table, but my attention is on Sari. He doesn’t look disturbed, too used to my methods.

“You’re in so much trouble, serial killer,” Lori feels the need to say. “Torture is Uri’s love language. Gutting you like a pig and using your intestines as floss, translates to professing his adoration to Sari.”

Lori’s statement is not totally wrong. I am dedicating this to my Baby Blue.

“By the way, the pig thing would be totally hard core, ending up in the torture record book,” Lori adds.

“How about if he turns him inside out by shoving his arm down his throat, reaching deep down, and grabbing his butt from the inside?” Ollie suggests. He spends too much time with Rague.

Torture does spur this family’s wicked, creative juices.

“Too much work,” I hear Ezra say. “Popping his eyes out and making him eat them seems an easier solution.”

“Those are both meh.” Bez huffs, eviscerating is more his thing

I turn toward them. They’re all on the other side of the glass wall, watching us with interest.

“What happened to the no-comments-from-the-peanut-gallery rule?” I mutter.

Raph dismisses my words. “Cut his hands off and sew them on his head.”

Where does he come up with this shit? “Fuck off!”

“Not good at sewing, eh?” Lori snickers.

“Why the head?” I hear Ollie ask.

“Like a bunny. It’s creepy cute,” Michael replies.

“You’re a freak!” Gabe states.

“We all are,” Raph defends his husband.

I see Ezra nodding. He seems comfortable, like he’s always been part of this twisted family. It doesn’t annoy me as much as before. But I’m still irritated by his very presence.

“Let me go! You perverted disgusting sicko assholes!” There’s no missing how strained Trent’s voice sounds.

Sari’s grip around my fingers intensifies. “What he does is not horrible, it’s essential. What you did, on the other hand, to all those poor men and tried to do to me is despicable.” He’s shuddering with anger. So beautiful as he tries to protect me.

“Killing shitheads like you is very therapeutic,” Lori adds.

“You’re mine. Miiiine!” The fucker yells, glowering at Sari with his…eye.

“Say that again, and I’ll mash your balls into a fine powder,” I hiss, yanking at his bloodied hair.

“What a daft prick.” Lori again. I swear I’m going to plug his mouth as soon as I’m done here. “You can’t separate Suri.”

“Suri?” Ezra asks.

“Sari plus Uri,” Michael explains.

“Let’s go back to the torture part, or just off him,” Raph states in a bored tone.

“I’m not yours. I’m his,” Sari suddenly exclaims pointing at our laced hands. Those surges of confidence are cute and sexy.

“You were mine first!” The fucker has the balls to yell—but not for long.

With a roar, I let go of Sari’s hand to grab my Staccato XC 9mm. I flip it and swing the butt down hard on the fucker’s collarbone. He bawls like a newborn baby.

“That means shit.” I drop the heavy metal grip on a rib this time, breaking that too. “I’m the one taking care of him, not you.” Another rib, another cry. “I’m the one coming inside him, not you. Filling him deep and kissing his lips, not you.” I move to his right bloody hand and hammer away. “I wear his brand, and he wears mine.” Now it’s his dick’s turn. “You’re just a talking.” Hit! “Dead.” Hit! “Fucker.” Hit, hit.

I’m not the voice of reason right now; I’m the voice of wrath.

I lower the gun when I feel Sari’s hand on my forearm. His face is buried in my shoulder, eyes closed.

I kiss his head, not gently, all I have in me right now is fury and fire. Sari needs the threat to be gone, but doesn’t need to be part of the annihilation. Killing is not in his blood. I am. And I’ll always give him what he needs.

“Baby Blue. Leave this to me. Focus on the DNA we took from him,” I order him.

He nods. Then he lands a kiss on my shirt and leaves. And Ezra comes in, stopping near Raph.

“How do you dispose of the bodies?” he asks. I start cleaning Pamela’s grip—the Staccato was of use finally, it has earned its name.

“Acid,” Gabe is the one to answer from the other side of the glass wall.

“John George Haigh style?” Ezra’s questioning is getting on my nerves.

“Oh, the acid bath murderer,” Sari exclaims before walking into the lab.

“That was a clean-freak serial killer.” Michael sends a look at Raph, who huffs at him.

Ollie gets in on the conversation as well. “Creepy, Freddy creepy.”

“Why not use a wood chipper?” Ezra again.

“Too messy,” Gabe responds.

I leave Pamela on the table and glance at Trent. He’s whimpering and softly moaning. Does he think this is over? I hope so, because he’s in for a huge surprise.

I walk to the mini flamethrower—a more portable version of a traditional one.

“Where did you get that?” Ollie asks me.

“Home Depot.”

“How much?” Does he want to buy one for Rague? I think he has like six of these.

“On sale around seventeen bucks.” It’s small but very effective at melting skin off bones.

“Are you going to get the nipple enlarger?” Lori’s eyes are on the long pair of metal tweezers dangling from the ceiling.

“You mean the nut re-arranger,” Michael states.

“Nope. It’s the potty re-trainer,” Gabe feels the need to utter.

I’m about to tell everybody to fuck off when an alarm starts blaring.

“Fire, Fire, Fire.” Serena’s voice echoes inside the base. “Proceed to the closest fire exit with caution.”

Fire? I look up. The sprinklers on the ceiling are not working. I turn to the lab where Sari is. He grabs something from his desk before making his way to the others.

“Rami,” Raph answers his phone, and then only listens to our brother talking on the line.

“A fire started in the shack in the backyard,” he says. “The wind is bringing it toward the house. The fire safety system was activated, but there seems to be a malfunction. We need to get out of here.”

A malfunction—is that why the sprinklers are not working?

“A fire and Rague is not here,” I hear Ollie say. It’s ironic in a way.

I drop the flamethrower and move to the tool table.

“I’ll go check on Ferdinand and Sophia.” Gabe is talking about the people who work in the main house.

“You all go, take Sari. I’ll finish here.” Raph nods at me in understanding as he grabs Michael and a reluctant Sari and drags them away.

“I’m right behind you,” I call after him.

“I’m going as well,” Ezra is holding the door open.

“I’ll find you later. I need those answers.” I give him a threatening look, to which he smirks before walking away. Fucker!

I pick up Pamela one more time and walk near the table. I aim for Trent’s head—I wanted to prolong the agony, but I need to make sure Sari is fine.

“Time to die, motherfucker.”

Trent grits his teeth and meets my gaze. His mouth opens, but I don’t let the words come out. The bang of the bullet leaving my gun and piercing the air is the only sound I hear. My hand snaps slightly back from the recoil, and I take a big breath before lowering it. His head flops back before rolling to the side. One empty eye stares at nothing.

Blood starts dripping from the hole in his forehead. The red drop slides down over his eyebrow and lands on the metal surface of the table. I’m hypnotized as more join it, forming parallel patterns on his forehead before creating a crimson puddle. I watch, feeling a peaceful satisfaction.

Serena’s voice shakes me out of it and I hurriedly walk to the door. When I pull, though, nothing happens. It’s locked. I try again. It has to be stuck.

Sari suddenly appears on the other side.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s Raph?”

“Trying with Gabe and the others to contain the fire. It reached the back of the house,” he replies, as he inserts the code into the door keypad.

But I don’t hear the clicking sound of the lock. Is this door malfunctioning, as well? I smell trouble. I need to get Sari out of here.

“Why won’t it open?” He tries again to no avail. He looks anxious, pulling at the handle again and again.

“Baby Blue, move aside,” I order him as I lift my gun and shoot four bullets at the door handle. Rague really chose the best materials when he built the bulletproof wall. No cracks.

“Go!” I yell at Sari.

“No!” He replies. I see movement behind him, and I’m surprised to find Ezra coming our way.

“Come with me,” he tells Sari.

“But Uri! We need to get him out of here!” He’s so beautiful when he cries. He raises his hand, pressing his palm over the glass. I cover his with mine, the cold material stops our skin from touching.

“I will. I promise you. But I can’t, knowing you aren’t safe.” I look into his gorgeous light blue eyes before turning to my brother. “Take him out of here, Ezra.” I’ve never begged anyone, and I won’t start now, but if my brother doesn’t take him to safety right this instant, I will maim him.

“I won’t leave you,” Sari sobs.

“He’s ours.”

Ezra smiles at my begrudging words. “Hurry up!” he says before lifting the most precious thing in my life and hauling him away.

I try to pull the door open again, but the fucker won’t budge. Luckily, I’m surrounded by tools. I quickly find the crowbar Rague likes to use on the donors and wedge the end into the very tight gap between the door and frame. I push and pull with all my might, using everything I have to get the damn thing to open.

I groan as the bolts begin to give, and using all my weight, I give it a final hard shove. The door finally busts wide. The smell of smoke is filling the air, making my nostrils itch. I’m in the basement of a burning house. I need to get the fuck out.

I make my way to the stairs when a sudden gnawing feeling in my gut makes me turn around. Two loud bangs, and my right leg gives out as pain spreads rapidly up from my thigh.

I grit my teeth as I see the silhouette of someone walking toward me, gun in hand. An oxygen mask is covering their face, and they are wearing a fireman’s uniform.

I dropped Pamela when I fell. I only have my switchblade inside my pocket.

“And then there was one. Or should I say seven? Pity the others fled. Locking the door was timed too late; you were all supposed to be imprisoned inside the basement and to burn into a crisp.” Their voice sounds distorted, but they don’t hide their snigger as they look at me.

“Who are you?” I grit my teeth against the throb in my leg. My hand pressing on the wounds feels wet. The bullets didn’t hit the artery—there would have been much more blood if that was the case—but it still hurts like a motherfucker.

“Ah, still in the dark. How have you all survived? Pathetic. Insignificant nothings.”

“Phoenix,” I spit out. Only they could have planned this circus. Fucking piece of shit.

“Oh, that name. He died before he could tell you…I see.” Who are they talking about? Ezra?

He takes a few steps closer. The air is getting thicker around us.

“What do you want?” I cough; my breaths are becoming labored.

“I just take pleasure in other’s distress and pain. Especially yours. You see, someone’s true nature is always revealed, no matter how much one tries to hide it. Especially if people keep poking at one’s sensitive spot!”

“You started it,” I bark. “And when you excessively hate something, it’s because you recognize that same thing within yourself.” Or some shit like that.

Phoenix’s angry growl makes me smile. Gotcha!

“Me, on the other hand, I just want to tear you to shreds,” I let them know.

“When are you and your pitiful, miserable group of losers going to realize that you’ve been outmatched? I’ve been toying with you this whole time. Directing you like…little insects.”

“You’re lying,” I goad them. If they keep talking until the smoke gets thicker, I can try to reach for my switchblade and stab them with it, preferably in the head.

“Who put that serial killer on One’s path and then told him where to find Two when he was kidnapped? Who pushed Six into that illegal fight ring and kept poking at him until he went berserk?”

They’re using our subject numbers, which suggests that they were part of Project Blood Assassin. Linda assured us that all the scientists and government heads were killed. But how about the guards? Could one have escaped their deserved fate somehow? If that’s the case, I’ll remedy that.

Phoenix keeps going, “Who sent Three and his pathetic AI on a merry quest against a senatorial candidate while I was creating a drug empire? Five got right in the middle of it; I wonder how? And who do you think made Four’s tracker malfunction?”

I’m going to make them bleed from every hole, then create new holes to fill with blood.

“Unfortunately nobody died except Eight. But his death is terribly vexing. I wanted to be the one to cause it.” They sniff. So they think Ezra is dead. “I’ve been using the people you care about, your own emotions, your own weaknesses against you.” The wicked pride dripping from their revelations makes my gut twist with anger and excitement. They have been fucking with us for more than a year, which suggests an indomitable enemy—one I’ll enjoy maiming.

“All your twisted meddling did was push us toward our partners. You are our personal matchmaker.” I snort.

“Your mommy doesn’t seem very happy in that hospital bed.” I stifle the growl inside my throat. That’s confirmation Phoenix was the one to poison Meg. “You’ve all been pathetically hunting me down for months like I’m some sort of monster, when in fact, you are the merciless murderers. Your last kill is right in the next room.” They point at Trent’s corpse lying on the table.

“We have a code.”

“A code?” They chuckle. “Everything I’ve done, all my actions were caused by you and those other scums of the earth you call brothers. Poisoning that hag was so satisfying.”

“Fuck you!” I hiss. I want to yank that mask off their face and rearrange their features until there’s only blood and goo left.

“You need to suffer for ruining my life,” they spit with so much hate I can almost see it, palpable in the already suffocating air.

“I don’t even know who you fucking are,” I dismiss their anger hoping to make them reveal themselves.

Smoke is slowly coming in. In my seated position, the air is less heavy, but soon I won’t be able to breathe easily. The wall behind me is getting hot, the fire is no doubt spreading inside the house. I don’t have much time.

“You’ll die without knowing who I am. I like that. Burned alive. Seems fitting, don’t you think? Poetic justice.”

Whatever. “Justice is like true selflessness, it doesn’t exist,” I state as they aim the gun at my other leg. A shot resounds, but not from their gun. It came from behind me and it forces Phoenix against the opposite wall. Then another and another. I pull out my switchblade and throw it at Phoenix’s head. It pierces the oxygen mask right at the center of their skull.

I turn to see Ezra lowering Pamela. He has an axe in his other hand and his bandana over his mouth.

He slides Pamela into his jeans and jogs my way. He crouches down and hands me a damp towel, then wraps his arm under my shoulder to pull me up. I let out a groan into the towel when a sharp, shooting pain hits my leg. Motherfucking shit!

“The thing you said about justice…not entirely true,” Ezra tells me, as he turns us toward the exit. “You good?”

“Do I look good?” I snap, glaring at him. My leg is fucking killing me. “Wait, we need to check Phoenix is dead.” Even though after three bullets and a knife to the head it would be…

“Where the fuck did they go?” I cough out, when I see the place where Phoenix was lying is empty. The blood stain on the wall reassures me that we did hit them. Not enough though. Fuck! The switchblade Sari gave me is on the floor.

“Get that,” I tell Ezra.

“Fuck it, we need to go.” He’s coughing too.

I push against his chest to get to the blade, but Ezra suddenly lets me go to do it himself.

“If we die because of a damn knife, I’ll be really pissed,” he states as we make our way to the stairs.

Gray smoke is filling the area in front of the lab, which tells me that the flames are not far away. It’s like we are going into the belly of the beast. The further we go, the harder it is to orient ourselves. I squint through the clouds of smoke. The sounds of burning and of my own breathing the only things I can hear. I spot the bottom of the stairs that will lead us up into the garage. Ezra adjusts his arm around me, and then I start my excruciating way up. It fucking hurts. Beads of sweat are running down my face and back. I can barely breathe, the towel over my mouth hardly helps.

Somehow we reach the garage. The large roll-up door is open, letting cold, fresh air in, but flames are bright and blazing near the door on the right, which opens to the main house entrance. That same door suddenly explodes, and a burst of flames billows out from inside, throwing us back into Gabe’s car, knocking the wind out of me as I hit the windshield.

“Fuck!” I hear Ezra shout my exact sentiment as he grabs my arm to steady both of us.

My heart is pounding, blood rushing in my head, and all I can think of is the feeling of Sari’s lean body against mine. Safe.

We slowly continue on until we are outside. I can’t feel the winter cold. Like I conjured him out of thin air, Sari is suddenly in front of me, holding me tight. His sweet honey and apple scent surrounds me, almost erasing the smoky smell inside my nostrils.

“You idiot!” I feel his body trembling as he lets out a sob. “God, why do I have to put up with you?”

“Because you love me,” I simply remind him, as I move us further away from the burning house. I stop only when we reach the others. I try to ignore the searing pain in my leg and back, but it’s getting harder.

I limp to the small wall on the side of the driveway and sit there.

“Oh shit, your leg!” Sari kneels down at my feet. “Bullet holes?”

I nod as he starts to tear my jeans to get a look at the wounds.

“One went through, but the other needs to be removed,” he tells me as his trembling hands tie his scarf around my leg. “An ambulance is coming.”

A groan leaves my lips as he tightens the knot. “What the hell happened? Was it Ezra?” He sits next to me, and I tuck him into my side.

“No.” The sound of the fire trucks speeding down the driveway halts my explanation. The firemen jump down and start doing their thing. One goes to talk to Raph and Gabe, both covered in soot. Michael’s pants are wet as he clings to his husband’s side. Lori is taking care of a small burn on Ollie’s arm just as Rague’s Jeep stops a few feet from us, and he flies out of it with Rami behind him. Ezra didn’t leave. He’s looking at the house with a serious expression on his face.

I turn my eyes to the fire now blazing out of control. The tall orange and red flames illuminate the forest surrounding the three-story building, the top level aglow. The firemen aim two water streams, one at the second and the other at the first floor, when suddenly an explosion bursts out from the roof, followed by another. Massive fireballs light up the night sky, sending sparks flying through the air like confetti. I spot large plumes of smoke billowing out so thick they hide part of the house.

“Jesus,” Rague mutters, for once not excited as he peers at the horrible sight with Ollie in his arms.

“Bloody hell,” Lori echoes his feeling, wrapping himself around Gabe.

I don’t share the sad expressions on most of my brothers—Michael is even shedding tears. Meg hated this house even though it was her family’s. Linda always commented how cold and tacky it was. I don’t feel upset at the loss, but I am fucking furious. Because Phoenix took yet another thing from me. From us. And I let them. I had them in front of me, and I didn’t kill them.

An ear-cracking boom ricochets through the night sky. I shield Sari’s face as four windows on the second floor explode, sending debris and embers to the ground far from us.

“You were shot by Phoenix?” I hear Lori’s baffled voice just before more chaos explodes around me.