J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 1-4 - J. R. Ward [148]
Butch nodded, already getting to his feet and heading to the door. “I’m on it,” he said over his shoulder.
There was a pause on the cell. “My lord, do you need us to help you find—”
“I will take care of our queen.”
Chapter Fifty
For the next hour, Beth watched her two captors run around as if they were convinced Wrath was coming at any minute. Except how would he know where she was? It wasn’t like the blond guy had left a ransom note. Or at least, not that she’d been aware of.
Pulling against the metal bands once more, she looked across the barn. The sun was just going down, the shadows long on the grass and the gravel drive. As Billy shut the double doors, she caught a last glance of the darkening sky and then watched as he slid home a series of thick bolts on the doors.
Wrath would absolutely look for her. She had no doubt of that. But surely it would take hours for him to find her, and she wasn’t sure she had that kind of time left. Billy Riddle stared at her body with such hatred, she had to believe he would snap. Sooner rather than later.
“And now we wait,” the blond man said, checking his watch. “It shouldn’t be long. I want you armed. Put a gun on your belt and strap a knife on your ankle.”
Billy was only too happy to gear up, and he had a lot to choose from. There were enough semiautomatics, shot guns, and sharp blades to outfit an army unit.
As he picked up a six-inch hunting knife, he turned and looked at her.
Her palms, clammy before, ran wet with sweat.
He took a step forward.
Beth frowned, looking to the right just as the other two did. What was that sound?
Some kind of rumble. Thunder? A train?
Whatever it was, it was getting louder.
And then she heard an odd tinkling noise, like wind chimes. She glanced across the barn. On the table where the ammunition was laid out, loose bullets were jumping around, knocking into one another.
Billy stared at his leader. “What the hell is that?”
The man took a deep breath as the temperature dropped a good twenty or thirty degrees.
“Get ready, Billy.”
By now, the sound was a roar. And the barn was shaking so violently, dust from the rafters was falling, a fine snow that clouded the air.
Billy reached up to cover his head.
The barn doors splintered apart, blown open by a cold blast of fury. The whole building swayed under the force of the impact, beams and boards shifting, groaning.
Wrath filled the doorway, the air around him warping with vengeance, with menace, with the promise of death. Beth felt his eyes on her, and then a booming battle roar came out of him, so loud it hurt her ears.
From then on, Wrath reigned.
In a movement so fast her eyes couldn’t track it, he went at the blond, grabbing the man and hammering him into a stall door. The blond wasn’t even stunned and nailed Wrath with a hard uppercut to the jaw. The two battered and rammed and hit each other, slamming into walls, knocking out windows, breaking tables. In spite of the weapons they carried, they stuck with hand-to-hand combat, their faces harsh, their lips peeled back, their tremendous bodies doing damage and being injured by turns.
She didn’t want to watch, but she couldn’t turn away.
Especially as Billy grabbed a knife and launched himself onto Wrath’s back. With a vicious twist, Wrath peeled the guy off of him and pitched Billy into the air. Riddle’s body flew across the space to the other end of the barn, landing in a pile of arms and legs.
Billy struggled to his feet, dazed. Blood streamed down his face.
Wrath took tremendous kicks to the body, but he didn’t slow. And he was able to hold the blond off long enough to flip open one of the metal bands that held Beth’s wrists in place. She went to work on the opposite side, freeing her other hand.
“The dogs! Let loose the dogs,” the blond man cried out.
Billy staggered from the barn. A moment