That was his cue. Blade approached the window, staying below the sill, listening. Inside, he could hear movement. Someone was in there pacing and muttering to themselves.
He risked a quick peek. A man stood with his back to the window, cell phone to his ear. Even from behind, Blade recognized him immediately.
Zeb. President of Pedro's Rejects. The man responsible for the hunt for Lily.
"...don't care what it takes," Zeb was saying, his voice low and angry. "Find the bitch. She's with one of the Spartans, name's Blade. Some cabin in the mountains..." He paused, listening. "No, I don't have an exact location. That's why I'm paying you, isn't it?"
Blade's blood ran cold. Zeb was putting out feelers, trying to locate Lily. Which meant the text Blade had received wasn't a bluff. The Rejects knew she was with him, even if they didn't know precisely where.
"Just find her," Zeb continued. "I want her brought to me alive. Relatively undamaged. She needs to be coherent for what I have planned."
The implications of that statement made Blade's hands tighten on his weapon. This man was not walking out of here alive. Not if Blade had anything to say about it.
Zeb ended the call, muttering curses under his breath. He moved toward the door, his hand reaching for the knob.
It was now or never.
In one fluid motion, Blade vaulted through the window, his body impacting Zeb's before the other man could react. They went down in a tangle of limbs, Zeb's surprised grunt cut short as Blade clamped a hand over his mouth and pressed the barrel of his silenced pistol to his temple.
"Make a sound," Blade whispered, "and I'll paint the walls with your brains. Nod if you understand."
Zeb's eyes bulged with fury and fear, but he nodded.
"Good," Blade continued, his voice deadly calm. "Now, here's what's going to happen. You're going to tell me exactly how many men are out there, and what they've done to Tim. Then you're going to call them in here, one by one, so I can deal with them quietly. Blink twice if you understand."
Zeb blinked twice, hatred radiating from him in waves.
Slowly, Blade removed his hand from Zeb's mouth, keeping the gun firmly in place.
"Four men," Zeb whispered, his voice shaking with suppressed rage. "Five, counting your traitor, Hammer."
"And Tim?"
A cruel smile twisted Zeb's lips. "What's left of him, you mean? He's alive. For now. Though after what we've done to him, he might wish he wasn't."
Blade fought the urge to pull the trigger right then. "Is he rigged?"
"Rigged?" Zeb looked genuinely confused.
"Explosives. Dead Man's Switch. Anything that would kill him if you or your men were taken out."
Understanding dawned in Zeb's eyes, followed by something like respect. "Not a bad idea. But no. We wanted him alive for the grand finale. When we finally tracked down his little blonde friend."
Lily. They'd been planning to torture Tim in front of her before doing the same to her.
"Call your men," Blade ordered, pressing the gun harder against Zeb's temple. "One at a time. Tell them you need to speak to them privately."
Zeb's eyes narrowed. "And why would I do that?"
"Because if you don't," Blade said silkily, "I'll start by shooting off pieces of you. Kneecaps first. Then elbows. Then shoulders. You'll live, but you'll never ride again. Never hold a woman again. Never wipe your own ass again."
Fear flickered across Zeb's face. A coward at heart, then, despite his sadistic tendencies. "Alright," he agreed. "But you won't get away with this. There are more of us than there are of you."
"I like those odds," Blade said coldly. "Now make the call."
Zeb complied, calling for one of his men. Moments later, the bedroom door opened, and a burly man with a shaved head stepped inside. Blade recognized him and would recognize each of the men who followed. They were the worst of humanity. The fact they were out on bail showed a total failure in the American justice system. Or, perhaps, a corrupt judge. These men were child sex traffickers and rapists. Drug dealers. This one? Had a part in kidnapping and torturing one of Valhalla’s men’s girls.
"Boss, what's—" His question was cut short as Blade's silenced pistol coughed once, putting a neat hole between his eyes. He dropped like a stone.
