The Forsaken’s Weapon

“Get on the ground now!”

Times like this, I wondered if it was possible for me to just drop dead from how fast my heart was beating.

The rush, both from the danger and excitement, was an electric mix, one that zapped hotly through me.

The men looked up, speed-running through multiple emotions. Their demeanor changed from relaxed as they were playing cards, to fight mode as they dove for their guns.

Reed shot before I did, maybe even before I even finished my sentence. There were three of them, and in quick succession he let bullets fly, hitting two of them in the shoulders, very close to their hearts, and one on the arm.

I don't fucking like this man.

I swallowed down my sigh, along with what I wanted to say, as the men collapsed in a pool of blood. Ever since I was partnered with Reed, he'd always been quick to act, but not to think.

I sighed, replacing my gun in the hoister, shaking off the empathy I felt for these men. I thought human life was sacred but I also believed in punishment for a crime. I didn't condone what these men had done to others, and the pain they were feeling was deserved.

When we finished the sweep, I would call in the ambulance. My phone was in the car and right now, we were here to rescue those twin girls.

It was a tragedy what they had been through this past week.

Their family was in witness protection but somehow they were found. I had watched the security camera footage multiple times trying to find a clue. I hated it every second, as usual, but I reminded myself that the victims actually lived through it, and I'd be fine sitting in my high-backed chair in my air-conditioned office.

The parents of these girls were killed with a knife to the throat, while they watched. Then they were yanked away by the hair, kicking and screaming in their frilly night dresses. Fucking terrible.

“Do you think there’s more?”

I shoon my head, even as I scanned the space. “No. They had no need for a whole troop, they weren't expecting anyone to find them.”

And they had reason to. We were standing in a house registered under the governor’s surname, which, at closer inspection, it turned out that there was no relation. I wouldn't have even bothered to check, if I didn't notice in the video, one of the twin girls, letting herself be tossed around so she could leave behind pieces of her dress.

But I did, and I found a piece of that dress stuck to the barbed wire fence like a pink flag of defiance. Clever girl.

After this, I'd make sure they stayed protected all throughout the trial, even if they had to live with me, and then I'd find a good foster home for both of them where they could be together.

These little girls were so important to this case. Their father worked for the biggest criminal I've ever had the pain and pleasure to chase.

Tiberius ‘T.K’ Kian was a corrupt, slippery fish who always cleaned up his trail even if he had to cover it up with the blood of others.

Mr Tibe was a man — maybe an entity with how hard it was to lay eyes on him — who sold everything illegal, with roots of power embedded so deep in the state, his empire might still be standing after I’d take him down.

But that's okay, if I have to cut down every fucking branch myself, then that's what I'll do.

I'd already lost someone to that, and while I didn't have any more siblings, I had a mom. And she had friends that had siblings.

No one deserved to go through what I did.

“Let's go.”

There was only two of us here tonight. Pretty boy was all I could find in the precinct when I went back to report my findings to the higher-ups. I'd have come by myself if I had to, which I thought I would, but he volunteered to come with me.

Which was frankly surprising. Reed had put in maybe a collective six minutes into researching this case, so little I often forgot I had a partner.

But Daddy's little golden boy could get away with it, especially because you could point The Hound in the direction of a criminal and he'd bring them in, dead or alive. Usually dead.

We moved slowly through the house, the smell of rot our only other companion. I hoped it's just the wood, that there wasn't another case buried here.

We stopped to check every corner before we passed. All clear.

Closer to the end of the house, we began to hear soft crying. My heart kicked into overdrive and I had to force myself to keep the pace.

Yes. We're so close to getting them back, so close to moving on with this case I can almost taste the steel around Mr Tibe’s wrist.

We both flanked the door, and taking a deep breath I gave Reed the signal for us to go on three.

One.

Reed’s hands were steady, probably from the quiet self-reassurance that he was not really shooting to stun or disarm, like we were supposed to. ‘They can't get me if they're dead’, I'd heard him joke.

Two.

I could never do that. I’d worked with scared people who do bad things because they had no choice, people who didn't want to do those things. Once you took the gun out of their hands and set them on the right path, they were fully willing to never get in trouble again.

Three!

Reed and I burst in through the open space, each of us pointing the gun at our right sides, then turning in a slow circle. It seemed like there was no one here, and there were no doors or furniture they could be hiding behind.

The girls were in full hysterics now, the smell of urine strong around them. They were tied back to back with thick ropes around their arms, legs and bellies. The relief at seeing different faces, bodies clad in police uniforms, made them wail loudly.

I replaced my gun into my holster and put my hands up to approach them. “It's okay, we're not here to hurt—”

I heard them before I saw them.

Two bullets whizzed by my head and I froze. Horrified, I watched, almost in slow motion, as they embedded themselves in the girl’s heads, one after the other.

Red exploded, spluttering out of the holes, and their bodies slumped against each other.

Dead.

My training kicked in a millisecond later, cutting through my grief, and I prayed it was fast enough. I turned around, getting out of the way and drawing my gun, tears pricking my eyes as I scanned for the attacker, hoping Reed was okay.

Where did he come from? How did we not see—

There was only one person behind me, his expression neutral, as he lowered the gun.