Page 276 of Psycho Pack

Before I can protest, he charges forward like a bull, his shoulder slamming into the ornate double doors. They explode inward with a thunderous crash that would make his demolition charges proud.

The four guards stationed inside react instantly, but Whiskey is faster. His rifle barks out four precise shots in rapid succession. The guards drop where they stand, their bodies hitting the marble floor with dull thuds.

"Nobody fucking move!" Whiskey roars, brandishing his rifle at the cluster of Council members huddled together like frightened sheep.

I scan their faces quickly, noting Monty Filch among them. The beta looks even more pathetic than usual, practically hiding behind his fellow Council members. Several of them reach for concealed weapons, and my heart leaps into my throat.

"Ivy, get down!" Whiskey and I bark in unison.

But she's already moving, diving behind a heavy oak desk with the fluid grace of someone who's spent their life avoiding danger.

And this is the last fucking time she's ever going to have to.

The armed Council members don't stand a chance. Between Whiskey's precise shots and my blades, four more bodies hit the floor before they can even level their weapons. His bullets and my knife lodge into the chest of one at the exact moment, to the point where I'm not even sure which one of us did him in.

"Aww," Whiskey say, clearly having the same thought from a very different perspective, his tone mockingly sweet. "A couple's activity!"

"Oh, shut up," I snap, drawing my gun since that's a far more efficient tool when it comes to dealing with a group.

The remaining Council members raise their hands in surrender, their faces pale with terror.

"Smart choice," I say coldly, moving forward to bind their arms and check them for weapons. We'll need hostages for the negotiations after we take the city.

These sniveling cowards will do nicely.

I'm patting down a particularly whiny Council member when movement catches my eye. One of the guards we thought was dead is rising, his hand reaching for his sidearm. He takes aim at me and all I can feel is relief that it's not one of them. Time seems to slow as I realize I won't be able to react fast enough.

A shot rings out, and I brace for the impact.

But it never comes.

Instead, the guard drops like a puppet with cut strings, a neat hole in the precise center of his forehead. Dark blood pools beneath him, spreading across the pristine marble floor.

"Good timing," I mutter, assuming it's Valek watching our backs as usual.

But when I turn around, it's not Valek's silver eyes I meet.

It's Azarel's ice-blue ones.

My brother stands in the doorway, his massive frame silhouetted against the chaos visible through the broken doors. His gray-and-gold Reinmichian uniform and long black hair are splattered with blood, and his right hand—the one Valek shot—is wrapped in bandages. But the pistol in his left hand is steady as he lowers it.

"You always did have a blind spot on your left," he says dryly.

I stare at him, unable to process what I'm seeing. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving your life, apparently." His eyes scan the room, taking in the carnage with clinical detachment. "Though I see you've managed to make quite a mess without my help."

"Yo, what the fuck?" Whiskey eloquently summarizes my thoughts.

Azarel ignores him, his lips curving into something that might be a smile on anyone else. On him, it looks more like a predator baring its teeth. "The Council's forces are in disarray. Your armies are securing the perimeter of the city as we speak." He pauses, his eyes finding mine. "I thought you might need backup."

"You said if you saw us again, you'd shoot," I remind him, still not entirely sure this isn't some sort of trap.

"I did," he says, nodding pointedly to the dead guard he just took out. He saunters into the room, the thuds of his polished black leather boots echoing across the vaulted ceiling of the inner chambers.

I see a flash of red as Ivy slowly peeks out from behind the table, watching with the same shock I feel. She jolts instinctively as another shot rings out and one of the unarmed Council members hits the ground.

Before I can react, so does another.