Page 42 of Desecrated Saints
“Sadie? What is this place?” I call out.
Pulling a squeaky lever built into the cinderblock wall, gloomy yellow lights slam on. Sadie faces the group, barely sparing her surroundings a glance. She looks far from happy to be here.
“Home.”
The warehouse is split into two levels, with the workshop on the ground floor hiding a grubby break area behind a thick, plastic sheet. Two sofas are pushed up against the walls, with old, peeling movie posters from a time long gone. A metal staircase leads upwards to a mezzanine level, the floor constructed from metal sheets and lit by bare filament bulbs.
“There’s a bedroom of sorts upstairs, bathroom too. It’s dirty and basic, but it’ll do.” Sadie grabs a new duffel bag from a locker. “You need to stay alert. London is too exposed.”
“What do you mean, home?” Seven asks angrily.
Sadie doesn’t even look at him, rifling through the bag of old clothing. When she pulls a gun from the locker, everyone tenses. She checks the chamber and tucks it into her waistband.
“I lived here for a few years,” she admits. “Dad owned the workshop before he died. I should’ve sold it, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. When Grandma died, I had nowhere else to go.”
Seven stands frozen, his entire, furious posture carved from marble. A thunderous expression is written across his face, but I can see the truth in his eyes. Guilt. When he tries to lay a hand on Sadie’s shoulder, she flinches.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he utters in disbelief.
“I didn’t mean… that’s not…” Her gaze falls to her hands. “I’m sorry, Ju— I mean, Seven. I get this is hard for you. I didn’t expect things to pan out like this either.”
“You didn’t think you’d find me alive, you mean.”
“Something like that.”
“Would you rather I was dead?” he hedges.
Nervously smoothing her bright-pink hair, Sadie looks unnerved by his question. She doesn’t deny it, still focusing on her feet instead. Seven waits for a few awkward seconds before stalking off. He slams through the plastic sheet to escape into the break room.
“What about you?” Kade studies the warehouse.
Sadie shakes herself out of it, throwing the duffel bag on a nearby table and scraping her hair back. “I have to get to Harrowdean by Monday. They’re expecting me. I’ll keep in touch on the burner phone.”
“When will your employer contact us?”
“When he’s ready to,” she says ominously.
“We need a bit more to go on than that.”
An echoing rattle cuts off our conversation. Hudson and Kade both pull guns they kept after our escape, while I palm my knife. Phoenix follows suit, holding his own knife at the ready. We all stand prone as footsteps near.
The tension explodes when a figure emerges through the gloom. Standing with obvious trepidation, the man has a head full of tight, dirty-blonde ringlets that hang messily across his face. Piercing blue eyes several shades lighter than Hudson’s scour over us, hidden behind wire-rimmed glasses. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth.
“Theo,” Sadie gasps. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes land on her, guarded expression transforming into one of sheer happiness. Adjusting his dark flannel shirt and denim jacket, he prepares for incoming as Sadie runs at full speed. I don’t miss the way Hudson and Kade keep their weapons raised.
“Long time, no see.” Theo laughs. “I had to see you.”
Embracing him, we all gape as Sadie secures their lips together. The pair exchange a blistering kiss despite their audience. When Kade pointedly clears his throat, they finally jump apart.
“Come on, I’ll introduce you.” Sadie drags him to our circle, shooting us a deliberate look of warning. “Everyone, this is Theodore. He’s a… uh. Well. A co-worker, shall we say.”
His smile is extremely awkward. “Nice to meet you all.”
“Who exactly are you?” Hudson tucks his gun away.
“Um, Theo. I’m… tech support?”