“We leave in an hour,” Styx signed. “Gather all the guns we can.” The gavel was slammed on the table, and we all fled to get our shit together. I saw Lilah waiting in the bar, but I swung outta the back door and onto my bike. I was at my cabin in minutes and gathering my guns. I pulled my favorite sniper rifle from my trunk and made sure I had a fuck-ton of bullets. Ash came bursting in the door, face serious, and moved to the same trunk. He took the gun he’d been practicing with and loaded it up.
I put my hand on his arm. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Ash stilled. “I’m coming.”
“Like fuck you are!” I snapped.
The kid straightened his shoulders. “I’m driving the van with Slash. Rider’s in the back with all the medical supplies. Styx ordered it.”
I stood right in front of him, watching his determined black eyes meet mine, unwavering. “You get we could be walking into a fucking warzone, kid? You get some of us might not make it back? This Meister fucker ain’t no joke.” I held up my gun. “We’ll kill. A lot.”
Ash tipped his chin up, defiant. “I’m ready,” he said confidently. “I can shoot. And I’m ready for a war if we get one.”
I watched this sixteen-year-old kid. Watched as he changed from a kid to a fucking man right before my eyes. If I wasn’t so full of anger and hate for Meister, I’d have been fucking proud. I grabbed hold of his prospect cut and yanked him forward. “Don’t do nothing stupid. Stick by me or Flame.”
“Okay,” he said and released a long breath. I gathered my knives, my Glock and more ammo than I’d ever need and threw it all into a bag. When I stood up, Ash was looking down at the gun in his hand.
Fuck, he looked so young.
I walked over to him, waiting until he noticed me. “You might need to kill people today or tomorrow. You come, you fight. That’s Hangmen code.”
His cheeks paled, but he replied, “I know.”
I wanted to say more. But the truth was, the first kill you ever made was not something you could prep for. You do it, change forever, then get the fuck on with life and kill some more.
If it happened, it happened.
I loaded the van with supplies, then jumped on my bike. Flame and Vike came roaring up beside me. They each flicked their chins as Ash and Slash got in the van and pulled away.
Twenty minutes later, the Hangmen rolled out of the compound as one unit. And with every mile made, I let my hatred of Meister build inside me—fuel to this fucking mission. Or massacre, I thought to myself. Because if that dick had gone anywhere near Phebe, I’d kill him worse than any of those fuckers that took my brother. I’d make him pay, strip his flesh and slice through his guts. And as I looked to my left and right, Flame and Viking by my side, I knew they’d be with me too.
Meister was going down, and I was getting back my bitch.
There was no other choice.
Chapter Nineteen
Phebe
I did not know how long we were in the van, but it felt like hours. Grace had cried in my arms until she fell asleep, exhausted. But I never let her go. I kept her tightly to my chest as I thought of what lay ahead.
Fear. I had nothing within me but pure fear.
The van came to a stop, and I tensed when I heard voices outside. The voices were low, but deep and most certainly male. I trembled when I heard the sound of feet moving to the doors of the van. Grace woke and raised her head, a confused look on her pretty face as the doors flew open.
The men who had taken us reached inside and tore Grace from my arms. Grace screamed and reached out for me. I jumped out of the van, trying to get to her, but a hand wrapped around my hair and wrenched me back. “No!” I screamed, fighting to be free. “Grace!” I broke down in tears when the men led her into a building and out of my sight.
I looked all around me and did not recognize the place where we were. The air was as hot and sticky as the Hangmen’s home, the sky still as clear. Fields of green were all around us. A water tank sat in the middle of several buildings, but there was nothing else for miles.
“He wants her in Building Two,” one of the men said. With his hand still in my hair, I was dragged down a dirt path. I lashed out, trying to see around me for Grace, but there was nothing. Worse, I could no longer hear Grace’s screams.
Just silence.
Why was she being so quiet?
We stopped at a building. The man holding me opened the door and threw me inside. I landed hard on the stone floor but scrambled to my feet just as the door shut behind me. I bashed my clenched fists against the wood, yelling to be out. But after minutes and minutes of trying, screaming . . . I broke down into sobs and slid down the door.
What have I done?
I looked around the room. There was nothing but an old table and chair in the center. Then I thought of the man’s order. He wants her in Building Two . . .
He . . . Meister.
On my hands and knees, I crawled into the corner of the room. I curled against the wall and tried to picture Grace. What were they doing to her? What would they do to her?
Meister. He had coveted her in New Zion. And I had just delivered her to him on a silver platter.
I chased back the vomit creeping up my throat. Lilah . . . she would never forgive me for this.
What have you done, Phebe?
The sound of the knob turning in the door made me freeze. I held still, my heart beating a frantic rhythm. I kept my eyes fixed on the door . . . then lost all strength when Meister walked though. He was just as big as I remembered. He looked at me across the room, his blue eyes meeting mine, and a wave of memories rushed to my mind. I remembered being chained to a bed . . . I remembered being kept naked, only given clothes when he claimed I had earned it.
I choked on a cry when I remembered being in a bar of some sort. On Meister’s lap, riding Meister in a room full of people . . . then I turned . . . I turned and . . .
. . . AK?
Kind eyes.
The tree . . .
. . . my AK.
The soles of Meister’s black boots stepped toward me on the hard ground. My muscles trembled as he stopped before me. I heard every breath I took echoing in my ears. I felt the pulse in my neck, temple and wrists race in an unsteady beat.
He bent down. I closed my eyes, yet I still felt his gaze on me. I felt the daggers his eyes threw and the tension he held in his enormous body. I flinched when a finger landed on my face. My nostrils flared as I desperately tried to control my breathing. I wanted to throw his hand from me, I wanted to lash out and hurt him.
But fear held me ransom.
“Where have you been, my little whore?” his deep, rough voice asked. I froze, my tears falling down my cheeks. A short laugh spilled from his lips. “But I know, don’t I, Liebchen?” His hand left my cheek and pushed into my hair. Suddenly, my head was ripped back and I felt his breath on my face. “Open your fucking eyes, slut,” he demanded. I automatically did as he said, and my gaze clashed with his.
My stomach fell. He was seething. The skin on his face was red, and his muscles were strained. His teeth were bared, and veins bulged from his neck. He yanked my hair back again, and I cried out. “You were with one of them, weren’t you, whore? Fucking them, fucking their cocks like the cult cum-slut that you are.”