Page 90 of The Devil’s Feather

Movement at the corner of my eye caught my attention. Men in black tactical gear emerged from the thick woods surrounding the house. Lots of men; I lost count at 13 because they kept moving. Glances in the rearview showed none of them creeping up behind the Escalade. They were entirely focused on swarming like ants between the angry redhead and his target. A few of them eyed me with flat, hostile stares. God, had Molly hired a private army?

Rafael was not intimidated in the least—or if he was, he hid it well. “You wanted my attention. You fucking have it. Leave Elaine out of this shit. Which of these assholes did you pay to grab her off the street?”

Molly shrugged theatrically, tossing her hair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just asked some friends to help her get where she was going. She looks perpetually lost, poor thing.”

This bitch.

In the front of the crowd facing him down, one guy’s hand crept toward his belt.

“If you point a gun at me, I will fuck you with it,” Rafael snarled.

The man straightened, and the front door opened. A vaguely familiar, equally blonde man emerged. I squinted. The quarter-zip with the AI logo. It was the tech bro Rafael had slammed into the wall. That asshole and Molly were a matched pair, like a white supremacist Barbie and Ken, looking out over the moat of men. Couldn’t be her brother or Rafael would have recognized him that day in Palo Alto.

To the mass of men, Rafael bellowed, “FUCKING MOVE!” with the full force of his oktavist, operatic lungs.

Ok, Fezzik!

The crowd unzipped right down the middle, opening a path to the porch.

Rafael pointed at the tech bro. “You cowardly piece of syphilitic shit. Come at me directly and leave my girl the fuck out of it. She has done nothing to either of you. You want to punch me in the face and call it even? If it will make you leave us the fuck alone, I will not defend myself.” He spread his arms wide. Goddamn, that wingspan.

Not at all what I was expecting. I’d assumed Rafael was coming here to beat the shit out of someone, not go all Way of the Leaf to resolve the conflict. He really was trying to be different. My heart thudded painfully against my ribcage. If I’d known he was volunteering to allow a mob to beat him to death, I never would have let him leave the house.

This is all my fault.

“I think a hospital stay sounds a lot more like an even exchange,” Molly said, and my veins froze. “Broken hip. Dislocated shoulder. And the punch in the face, just like you threatened for me.”

“Come kick the shit out of me yourselves then. Do that, and we will be even. You will never hear from me again.” Rafael cracked his knuckles. “Any of these other limp-dick accidents lays a hand on me, and I will take it personally.”

A few of the guys exchanged wary glances.

Molly scoffed. “And let you get off on it, you fucking perv? Not a chance. I think I’m feeling threatened, and you’re on my property.” She gave some signal I couldn’t perceive, and the men advanced.

Rafael’s hands came up. All my internal organs dropped to my feet.

“Get the fuck out of here, Elaine,” he called without looking. “I love you.”

My pulse pounded in my ears, dampening the sound. I put the Escalade in reverse. The action was distant, detached, as though someone else moved my body.

The first hired thug swung on Rafael. He dodged easily and unleashed a gut punch that doubled the man over. An elbow to the back of the head dropped the guy. Rafael popped another one in the face with lightning-fast jabs. Two of them closed with him. Another guy pulled out a taser. Rafael skipped backwards, throwing a low leg kick that felled one heavier dude like a tree.

No, no, no, this isn’t happening! The air was too thick. I propped my phone on the dash to keep recording as I backed down the winding drive. Shouting followed me around a corner, underpinned by Rafael’s bass roar.

Guilt strangled me for leaving him, but how could he fight back if he was worried about me? I pulled onto the main road and floored it. Fuck, I hadn’t prayed since my freshman year of college—it hadn’t even occurred to me when I’d been kidnapped—but if any deity could help Rafael now, I’d happily swallow my pride.

“I’m not the least bit Norse, and neither is Rafael, but Loki, I swear if you’re listening, that man is like your avatar on earth. Please! If you can keep him safe, you’ll have endless opportunities to use him to wreak havoc later. Please. Please!”

A huge raven skimmed across the hood in a cloud of frantically flapping black wings. I shouted and swerved, heart hammering against my teeth.

Fucking fuckass lack of coverage on Skyline! How does an area adjacent to Silicon Fucking Valley have no service? I kept my eyes so glued to the bars I nearly hit a few redwood trees and ran off the road twice.

My 911 call dropped three times before I could even give them the address of the cabin. They kept telling me to ‘calm down, miss’. If I never heard that combo of words again in my life…

A detective called me back, and I repeated my story. Her tone chilled once she placed the address. She didn’t seem incredibly interested when I said I had it all on video. Not until I casually mentioned putting it all online.

I called Kathy next, swerving to miss a banana slug and nearly clipping an oncoming Tesla.

That scratchy voice came over the line. “Hi honey. I didn’t think you’d be calling me so soon! What has my Bubbeleh done to you? I’ll twist what’s left of his ears off.”