Claimed by Shadows (The Shadowmen #2)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“GONE” BY BLAKE ROSE

ROWAN

R oman and I get up at the crack of dawn, taking the truck to the estate of Adrian Ramsey, which sits in the Wiltshire countryside. The sun is just rising as we drive up the long driveway after being let through by the armed guard at the guardhouse.

“A lot of security for someone not hiding something,” Roman muses as we drive around the back of the palatial mansion to the staff parking area.

A guy in his mid-forties with salt-and-pepper hair waits for us outside a nondescript door, wearing all black and also armed.

“Indeed,” I utter, waiting for Roman to park before I unbuckle my seat belt and get out of the car.

“Rowan and Roman Kent, I presume?” the man asks, his voice deep and gruff as he holds out a hand.

“Yes, sir,” I reply, taking his outstretched hand in mine and giving it a firm shake. You can tell a lot about a man by his handshake, and this guy doesn’t dominate like some wankers might. Just a solid grip to let me know he could break my hand, no doubt, but doesn’t feel the need to push the point.

“My name is Doug, and I’m head of security here. Welcome.” His tone is no-nonsense, and he releases my hand to grab Roman’s. “You guys will be stationed outside the house today. We work in pairs, so you’ll be together for the whole of your twelve-hour shift. Your job is to walk the perimeter of the house and immediate gardens. You have the digital map that was sent to you?”

“Yes, sir,” Roman and I say together, and Doug’s lips quirk.

“Follow me and I’ll issue you your guns. You can meet the others and then get into position,” he tells us, turning and holding a card on the pad at the door, then a green light blinks and the sound of the lock disengaging fills the early morning air.

We follow him into the house, both of us looking around and cataloguing any details we can. We’ll need all the advantages for a rescue mission, and the security here is top-notch. They are definitely hiding something.

We pass by what looks and smells like the kitchen, plus several closed doors before we get to another plain wooden door with a pad that Doug uses to gain access.

“Here are your access cards,” he says, reaching over to a table and swiping two cards, which he hands us. “They give you entry to the house and staff areas, which are highlighted on your map. Mr Ramsey is in residence most days, as is his niece and ward, Lilly.”

My heart thuds loudly inside my chest. Looks like we may have found her after all, though I want to get eyes on her to confirm it’s who we are looking for. I slide a look at Roman when Doug turns back to the table, and he gives me a small nod.

“Here are your radio and guns, which are only to be used against an intruder. Aim to injure, unless the threat is to your or anyone else’s life,” Doug tells us, his voice serious as he hands us each a handgun and holster.

“Are we expecting any threats, sir?” I ask, watching his reaction to see if I can gain an idea of why the security is so high.

“Not that I know of, but Mr Ramsey likes to be prepared,” he answers, giving us a moment to attach the radios to our belts and strap the gun holsters on before leading us out of the room and to another door, which is ajar. “This is the rest of the team. You’ll recognise them on account of all the black.” He huffs a deep laugh, as do some men and women in the room, sitting on sofas and drinking coffee. There are four others, all dressed in black and with guns. Two women make up half the current team. “Everyone, this is Roman and Rowan Kent. They’re on rotation as of today.”

“Fuck, it’s too early to be seeing double,” one guy growls, rubbing his slightly red and puffy eyes.

“If you’d had less to drink last night, your head wouldn’t be pounding so much, Tucker,” Doug teases, though there’s an edge to his voice. “I hope this is not a regular issue.”

“No, sir,” Tucker mumbles, his cheeks going red as he takes another gulp of his coffee.

“Excellent,” Doug replies before turning back to Roman and I. “Do you want to grab a drink or are you good to go?”

“We’re good.” Again, we say it in unison, and he outright grins this time.

“That’s creepy as fuck, you know that right?” he asks as some of the others laugh.

“We know,” we say again, both of us smirking, because sometimes it’s fun to fuck with people. Who am I kidding, it’s fun all the time.

“Well, follow me, Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee,” Doug instructs, chuckling and leading us back out into the dim corridor and the way we came. We’re soon at the door we entered, which he opens, and the fresh morning air flows into the space. “You get an hour’s break at twelve. Questions?”

“No, sir,” Roman and I say together, earning an outright bark of laughter this time.

“Fuck off, you two.” Doug chuckles, ushering us out and shutting the door.

My brother and I look at each other, all traces of humour gone.

“Let’s look around, shall we?” I say, and he nods.

We first walk around the outside of the mansion, which takes us a good fifteen minutes because it’s just that large. It reminds me a little of Serene Haven, and my heart gives a pang, wondering how the rest of the night went for my little Lamb. I finally gave in around two this morning, getting a couple hours of sleep before we came here. It was worth the gritty eyes and slight head fog, though I’ve done far more on much less sleep. My poor Lamb tossed and turned for most of the night, whimpering in her sleep in a way that made me itch to drive back there and sneak into her room just to hold her.

Hours pass as we walk around the mansion and through the well-maintained gardens, and the sun is high in the sky when we round the house and see something that stops us both dead in our tracks.

There’s a woman in a nurse’s uniform, pushing a young woman in a wheelchair. Her hair is brunette and there’s definitely the swell of a pregnant stomach underneath the blanket around her legs. The pair have paused at the top of the entrance steps and the older woman is looking around as if for a ramp.

Roman jogs over. “Allow me, Miss, ma’am,” he says, bending down as if to lift the wheelchair down the steps. “Rowan, give me a hand, will ya?”

The girl in the chair, who I’m almost certain is Lilly Vanderbilt, snaps her attention to me, her hazel eyes widening as she looks from me to my twin as I walk over to the group, taking over from the nurse and lifting from the back while Roman lifts the front.

“Are you…” she asks, her voice soft and uncertain with an accent that’s not dissimilar to Iris’s.

“Twins? Yes,” Roman answers as we carry the chair down the steps.

“But I’m the better looking one,” I tease in a low voice, and even Roman looks up at me, one brow lifted. I’m not usually chatty, especially with strangers, but all I can hear is Iris’s voice begging us to make sure Lilly and her baby are safe, and it makes something inside me crack, just a little.

“Thank you, boys, that was very gallant,” the nurse flutters, coming up next to the chair with a blush on her cheeks as we set it down at the base of the steps.

“You’re welcome, ma’am, Miss,” Roman says, straightening back up as I come to stand next to him. I study Lilly, knowing in my gut that she is Lilly and who we’ve been searching for. I learnt to trust my instincts a long time ago, and I won’t ignore them now. “Anything else we can help you with?”

“What’s your name? And why are you here?” Lilly asks, her eyes narrowing as she looks at us, her gaze taking in our all-black outfits and the radios. Both of us have angled away so she doesn’t see the guns. I don’t want her to worry, not in her condition, and neither does Roman, I’m sure.

“Apologies, m’lady,” Roman replies, hand on his heart and a boyish grin on his face that has her lips twitching. Fucking joker, he just can’t help himself. Though if it puts her at ease and takes away some of the strain around her almost vacant eyes, I guess I can’t blame him. “My name is Roman Kent. This is Rowan Kent, and we are part of the security your uncle has hired to help keep you safe.”

Her brows drop at his words. “Safe from what?” she questions, but before either of us can answer, the nurse clears her throat.

“Well, thank you once again, boys. I’ll be sure to call if I need your assistance,” she says, her tone not unkind but a little brusque. “Right, dear, let’s take a turn around the house, shall we?” Dismissing us, she pushes Lilly in the chair, turning away from us and heading in the opposite direction.

I’ve already pulled my phone out of my pocket and hit dial on Hunt’s number. Lilly twists in her chair just as he answers.

“We’ve found her. She’s here,” I tell him, and he curses. I want to do the same. I mean, I’m glad we’ve finally found her, but knowing that her uncle has her trapped here while she’s pregnant and unable to see the fathers of her child… It makes my blood boil, especially when I recall the confusion and slightly vacant look in her eyes. “I also suspect she’s being drugged.”

“Motherfucker!” Hunt growls, and I agree with him. What kind of bastard drugs a pregnant woman? I hear him take a deep inhale just as Lilly rounds the corner out of our sight. “Keep an eye on her when you can, but don’t blow your cover. I’ll message the Knights and await their instructions.”

I pocket my phone when the line goes dead, then tilt my head to tell Roman to keep walking in the direction that the nurse took Lilly. We’ll keep our distance, but I want to keep eyes on her for a bit longer.

“You think they’re drugging her?” he whispers, and I nod, the muscles in my neck tight and almost ready to snap. I can’t help imagining Iris in Lilly’s place, held captive and helpless, at the mercy of others. “Shit.”

“We’re to monitor her as much as possible, await further instructions from the Knights,” I tell him, and he dips his head in confirmation.

“We don’t ask for anything from them for this though. We do this because it’s the right fucking thing to do. Because we couldn’t…” he trails off, but I know where he was going.

Because we couldn’t save Iris sooner.

There’s a pounding in my ears, my vision clouding for a moment when I think of all she suffered at the hands of that dead man walking, and he will die in the most horrible way I can think of. I will flay his skin from his body, then take off all the pieces that hurt her, all while keeping him alive so he feels every moment. I could make it last days, weeks maybe if I can keep my beast in check enough.

Sergi Petrov is marked for death at my hand. He owes me that much at least.

“For Iris,” I mumble as we silently trail the two women, far enough away that neither suspects they’re being followed.

It’s all for Iris. Everything I do, every breath I take, and every beat of my heart. It all belongs to her now, and I would give her any part of me she asked, carve it from my body in offering, because she may be my sacrificial lamb, but I’m her devoted pilgrim, worshipping at her altar for the rest of my life and beyond.