LINES DRAWN

POV: Darrell Williams

Little more than a dark, hollowed-out cave on the mountainside, the safe house lacked conveniences. All that mattered, though, was a safe refuge and a defensible place to gather following our horrific escape from Callum's ambush.

Armaments wrapped across my barreled chest, I stood in the shadows just inside the threshold and peered critically at our ragtag company. Few stayed after that terrible involvement. Wounded, tired, spirits withering in the wake of the murder we had just barely avoided.

Still, I could feel the small flames of will still flickering behind the surface of tiredness. excellent. That was the vital spark I would have to fan into an all-consuming fire of moral rage. Callum's savagery had driven us to the brink; it was past time for us to react in kind and finish this vendetta.

"Get them tended to and rested," I hissed to Hardin, my voice a subterranean rumble that broked no debate. He walked among the injured. But be careful about it. The hour c