Page 73 of Fang Fatale

"Might be Brooks's boys."

"Might just be another idiot."

"But it isn't random."

I look toward Birdie.

Even asleep, she's curling inward.

Preparing to run.

"Trent's covering the back?"

Theo nods.

"Full perimeter."

"If they make it upstairs..."

"They'll leave through the window before they touch the landing."

"I'll try not to redecorate the living room with anyone's intestines."

For Theo...

The twitch at the corner of his mouth is practically hysterical laughter.

"Do what you have to."

His eyes drift to Birdie.

"But don't let her see."

CHAPTER 11

ALARIC

Ihear them before I see them.

The crunch of gravel outside the kitchen window, the thin whine of wind weaving through the warped pine boards. I'm on my feet—still barefoot, pants stained darker at the knees from kneeling by the fire—with the tire iron held like a conductor's baton. Theo moves silent as a rumor, the pale sheen of his eyes catching the phone's narrow beam. Trent materializes beside him, coiled energy in his posture, fangs just visible.

Birdie's out cold on the couch, cheek pressed into the crook of the cushion like some sad exhibit in a taxidermy gallery. I want to smooth her hair, whisper something gentle, but grace is a rung I never reached. Instead, I pull the throw blanket higher over her shoulder, tucking the edge beneath her arm before shifting her carefully so she won't wake up pins-and-needles stiff.

She's finally warm.

I'm not letting the mountain steal that from her.

Theo nods toward the kitchen door. Trent flicks his gaze to me, ready. We slip out onto the side porch. Rain scuttles across the lot, turning the approaching headlights into a distorted fishbowl: two figures up front, and behind them a dribble of four more.

Theo whispers, "Mason—and his muscle."

One of the rear silhouettes is a hulking brute, shirt plastered to him, cuts bleeding freely. They're not here to parley.

They're here for Birdie.

Mason himself limps onto the porch, spitting rainwater off his lip. His grin is ugly, triumphant.

"You picked a bad night to hide her," he says, voice carrying through the rain. "Give her up, Alaric, and I'll make it quick."