Free Taking Back Sunday by Cristy Rey Page A

a smoke. The tension was palpable, but the more submissive of the two released a sizeable part of the ball he’d been winding.
    “Listen, brother,” Cyrus began, sternly. “I’m asking for a few more days before we tell the boys we’ve made her in Columbia. Whatever’s going on, and you’re probably right that something is going on, we’ll need more intel before we can safely acquire her.”
    He had to cut Angel a break, give in a little, and accept that, a few days ago, he would have been sitting in the same position as Angel sat now.
    “If she’s harnessing the power of a coven, no matter how weak, she’s more than we can handle even now. Bringing our brothers into this would be a risk to them if we couldn’t provide the adequate information to make a safe go of it.”
    It was an absolute fact. Whatever desire kept him from turning her over to the cult aside, it was stupid to make a move without being certain that they could take her. Sunday posed a threat to them regardless of any allies she acquired in that coven. Though Cyrus wasn’t at the compound to witness it, everyone knew what she had done to Bernadette. People had feared the elder witch, regarding her like a supreme being cut from their same cloth, even before the emergence of the Incarnate at her side. Whatever affinity bound Sunday to her, in spite of weeks of torture at her hands, did nothing to keep Sunday from such an impossible act of depravity. They had been just stories, rumors, and conjecture, but if they were true, then the Incarnate could put up a fight that neither wolves could handle. She only needed to sense a threat, and they were done for.
    “You were on site at her capture,” Cyrus reminded him. “You might not have stayed on with Bernadette like I did, or seen all the shit that I’ve seen, but you know that, as a fucking kid , she wasn’t afraid of us. You think it’s going to be any different now, Angel? You’re kidding yourself.”
    He looked out the window and watched as Sunday turned on a light inside her house. Through the curtains, her uneven shadow moved from room to room. There was a perverse sort of satisfaction gained in watching her like a voyeur. His body tingled with the knowledge that she was so close. It was like so many times in the service of Bernadette when he’d watch her moving across the manor. So close he could touch her, but separated by the abyss of his duty. Then, like now, Cyrus could only watch. For years, he’d stewed with a vengeance for the way she made him feel, unable to bridge that gap for fear he might kill her and earn the ire of Bernadette. Bernadette no longer stood in his way, but duty still did. Duty to his pack and duty to his mission.
    The realization sank in his chest before he could truly enjoy their closeness. Rather than beat himself up about it any longer, he stuck out his finger and pressed it against the windshield, directing Angel’s eyes to her silhouette. His brows gathered tensely and his vision narrowed.
    “She’s a woman now, Angel. She’s walking around her house, taking care of her shit, and she’s none the wiser to us watching her. If she makes us, even catches a whiff of us on her tail, she could tear this city apart. She could, and the whole goddamn town goes up in flames, and she strides out without singeing her dress.”
    “If we wait till she falls asleep and take her by surprise, then she won’t know what hit her,” Angel countered. “The quicker we get her, the quicker we get this over with.”
    Cyrus turned back and locked eyes with Angel. After a long, tense stare, Angel nodded once, sharply. Angel wasn’t buying the whole lot of doubt that Cyrus was selling. Cyrus hadn’t lied, but was leaving out the real reason behind his decision to hold off on the capture. He didn’t want to hasten anything about this opportunity he was getting. Time had been his enemy for far too long. Now, it was his only ally.
    “A few more days, Angel. Nothing comes up by