the rusty bellow and knock of a vehicle he knew well. The same vehicle he’d stashed in what he assumed to be a safe place in another part of the park.
The van that contained Jeremy Ackmeyer, Vince’s future fortune.
Some other goon in a dark suit was seated behind the wheel. The guy standing in front of Vince in the grass gave the driver a brief nod.
“What the fuck!” Vince shouted. “What the fuck is this?”
How the hell had this gone so wrong, so fast?
He didn’t have time to guess. When he swung his head back around to look at the guy in the suit next to him, the nose of a black 9-mm pistol was leveled dead center on his face.
Now the suit finally managed to show some interest. He cracked a thin smile. “Get in the car, asshole.”
Vince was shoved into motion, the gun ensuring he kept moving.
As he staggered toward the waiting sedan, he had a sinking feeling this was the closest he would ever get to feeling a few hundred grand worth of metal and leather and high-end performance machinery wrapped around his stupid, sorry ass.
* * *
Mira dumped an armful of wet, blood-soaked towels into a sink of cold, soapy water in the bunker’s shower room and watched as the suds turned scarlet.
She should have left when she had the chance.
She should have just run away after hearing what Kellan told her. Back to the Order. Back to her teammates in Montreal. Back home to Niko and Renata.
Anywhere but here.
If what Kellan said was true, that fate would take him from her again—for good, this time—then she would do well to take whatever measures she could to spare herself that kind of hurt. She’d barely survived losing him the first time. How would she be able to bear that kind of pain again?
But she hadn’t been able to make her feet take the path that would have led her out the door of Kellan’s rebel base.
She couldn’t make herself walk away from him, not when she could see that she still meant something to him. He still cared. Some hopeful part of her wanted to believe that he still loved her, even if he refused to admit that to himself or to her.
So, Mira hadn’t run.
She’d stayed, taking it upon herself to mop up the blood from Vince’s attack, while Kellan, Doc, and Nina were elsewhere in the bunker, ostensibly seeing to rebel business and looking after Chaz’s remains once Candice had been stabilized.
Mira plunged her hands into the bloodied water and started washing the towels and rinsing them out. She tried to separate herself from the reality of the task—the knowledge that the blood staining her hands and clothes, running in a scarlet river down the opened drain of the sink, represented a life taken today, and another one narrowly spared. She tried to tell herself that this place, these people who lived and had now died here, were not hers to worry about.
But she was worried.
Worried about Candice, about Doc and Nina, all of whom had lost an old friend and made a new enemy today. She was worried about Jeremy Ackmeyer too, because as frightened as she’d been for him in Kellan’s keeping, it was nothing compared to the dread she felt knowing Vince had him now and was obviously willing to kill anyone who stood in his way.
And she was worried about Kellan, of course.
Stricken to her marrow with fear over the vision he’d seen in her eyes on the terrible morning she’d mistakenly believed had been so perfect.
Mira hung her head, running another basin of cold water for the next round of washing.
For what wasn’t the first time, she wished she’d been born without her gift. Her cursed ability, which brought anguish to nearly everyone who had the misfortune of glimpsing her unprotected gaze. She’d never known if her eyes would tell her own future too. She’d never had the courage to test it.
Now she wondered if she should try.
Would she see the same thing Kellan did?
Mira submerged a couple more blood-drenched towels into the water and watched as the crystalline liquid turned deep, murky red.
If she stared long enough into her own naked-eyed reflection, could she deplete her gift’s power for good? She was tempted to find out, never mind that her eyesight died a little every time she exercised her seer’s vision. She didn’t care about that. Better she blind herself than risk delivering any more pain to someone