Oath Bound (Unbound) - By Rachel Vincent Page 0,137

into my hands. I changed from pj shorts into the jeans in Gran’s room in record time, while Kori rummaged in the hall closet for an extra holster. She showed me how to wear it, then slid two full clips into a pocket beneath my right arm and adjusted the straps quickly as I got accustomed to the feel.

I checked my clip, then chambered a round, double-checked the safety and slid the gun into my holster.

“Draw,” Kori said, her hand already on the closet door. She was eager to go. We both were.

I drew, but the movement was slow and awkward.

“Again.”

I holstered the gun and drew with my right hand, again. And again, the movement felt...strange. Kori made a couple of adjustments in the straps, then handed me a jacket and told me to try it again. I put the jacket on, then drew again. My draw was better that time. Smoother, even with the extra material. However, I still wasn’t quite confident that I wouldn’t accidentally shoot a hole in the borrowed jacket.

But I didn’t let her see that. Lots of people learn through on-the-job training, right? Trial by fire. If they could do it, so could I.

Kori nodded her approval, then waved me into the closet. She and Ian followed, and she closed the door. There was only darkness and silence for a moment, when I assumed she was making a mental search of the address Olivia had given her—fortunately, she was familiar with the building.

“The whole apartment is dark. At least, dark enough to travel into. Get ready.”

Her right hand bumped my left, and I took it, my right hovering near the gun, a conspicuous weight at my side. Then she tugged us forward.

Two steps later, the air around us changed as we stepped out of the closet and into Curtis’s brother’s apartment. Carpet muffled our steps.

The smell hit me with my next breath. Feces. And beneath that, the milder yet more alarming scent of blood.

Kori let go of my hand the instant her first foot landed on carpet. For a moment, she and Ian stood absolutely still, letting their eyes adjust to the slightly lighter room, so I did the same. Fortunately, the only light source was what bled through the blinds from the streetlight outside. We adjusted quickly.

On my left, Kori’s head turned as she scanned the room, and I knew Ian was doing the same. So I glanced around, too, and discovered that she’d walked us into the living room—the outline of a couch was a dead giveaway—less than a foot from the closed front door. Where we were least likely to bump into furniture. Where no one could sneak up on us without opening the door at our backs, which would serve as a warning.

Kori thought of everything.

I needed to think of everything, too.

Ian’s tall, dark silhouette took several steps toward the wall near the window. “Light?” he asked, and Kori’s profile nodded. Something clicked, and soft light flooded the room from a lamp in the corner.

The first thing I noticed was a pile of broken glass next to the end table holding the lamp. Something had been knocked off and shattered on the floor. The second thing I noticed were the bodies. Two of them. Even in the deep shadows cast by the table lamp, I recognized the one on the left. His light eyes were still open, now staring at nothing. But now he had two mouths, one gaping open below his chin, above the blood soaking his clothes.

Curtis wasn’t smiling now.

“Sera?” Ian said while Kori headed into the short hallway, gun drawn. She was checking for bad guys, though we all knew the place was deserted. Kris was gone.

“I’m okay,” I whispered, though I was anything but. Curtis was dead, but I didn’t see it happen. I didn’t get to see his life spilled along with his blood. I didn’t see recognition of me in his eyes as they lost focus.

He was dead, but he hadn’t died paying for his crimes against my family. I knew because Kris hadn’t killed him. The spiderweb was a trap. And now Kris was missing.

Somehow, that was worse than how Curtis had died. Without me.

“Kris didn’t do this.” I stood far enough away from the bodies that I could see what had happened to them, but didn’t have to see. Kris was right. Death is a horrible thing to see, even on those who deserve it. “He’s more of a gun man, right?”

“From what

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