Page 139 of Desecrated Saints
“Hunter,” Theo says uncertainly.
“No,” he snaps back. “It’s a suicide mission.”
Standing tall for the first time, Theo replaces his glasses. I’ve never seen him butt heads with his boss. He’s always the obedient lap dog, but not today. This is the final, backbreaking straw. He’s had enough.
“The moment they enter the SCU’s custody, they’re as good as dead,” Theo states simply. “That’s a suicide mission. You are sending every single one of them to their deaths.”
“What else would you have me do?” Hunter throws his hands up.
Theo refuses to back down. “Let them choose their own fates for once.”
With his throat bobbing, Hunter’s nod signals his defeat. He reaches inside his suit jacket, pulling out a shiny, embossed slice of paper. It looks like an invitation, dipped in luxurious gold ink and calligraphy.
“This arrived a week ago.”
He tosses it down the table for me to pick up. Staring at the invitation, I trace the words with my index finger, each letter punching a hole through my numbness. It’s addressed to me in handwritten ink.
Incendia Corporation Invites You To Celebrate The Grand Reopening Of Blackwood Institute - An Exclusive Event For Investors And Sponsors.
I can feel the weight of my crimes pressing down on me like an ash cloud after a volcanic eruption. Beneath the grandiose declaration, the same handwriting has left a private message just for me. Bancroft must have written it, but Augustus’s dead voice reads the words out.
Brooklyn.
It’s time to return home.
Your mother is waiting for her little girl.
Nobody complains as I run for the nearest bin and throw up until my chest burns. With my hands braced on the plastic edges, I watch my tears drip into the rubbish. I know if I turn around, I’ll find Augustus waiting for me. I can feel his presence at the edges of my broken mind.
“He wants to draw you out in the open.” Hunter stops next to me, a tissue in hand. “I’m sure they have a cover story ready to be printed, the heroic efforts of the SCU praised for stopping a bloodthirsty criminal. The public will celebrate your death and the safety it brings them.”
“But we told the truth!” I shout after wiping my mouth. “We fucking told them. It’s all a lie, every single, poisonous word they print.”
“Money is the truth for people like Bancroft.”
“Then what?”
Stepping up next to me, Seven’s face is hard. “We end things our way.”
I feel the warmth of the others at my back. Kade takes my hand and squeezes his agreement. The gentle caress of Hudson’s breath at my neck is all I need from him. Phoenix and Eli come last, stumbling to complete our bruised and battered group.
Eli’s barely able to stand, but there’s still fierce determination in his emerald eyes. He manages a single, jerky nod that seals our decision. We’re all in agreement on one fundamental fact.
Our lives are forfeit right now.
None of us are surrendering willingly.
Incendia has signed our death certificates already; this is just extra time in the eternal playoff for our souls. Hudson was right about one thing—we live and die together, not ripped apart and locked in cells to await the hangman’s noose.
“Can you get us to Wales?” I direct my question to Hunter.
Instead, Enzo answers from across the room.
“I’ll show you to the damn gates myself. I’m coming with you.” He silences Hunter’s protests before they can begin. “We made a promise and I never, ever go back on my word.”
The two men stare at each other until Hunter breaks. He scrubs his exhausted face several times, savouring a deep, fortifying breath. When he unveils his face again, defeat has been replaced by resolution.
“Alyssa died fighting the system. She believed in the truth.”
