Driving like a bat out of hell, Brundar’s mind was calm. Thanks to years of practice, he was able to slip into the zone even under the most difficult circumstances.

And these were the most disturbing he’d ever experienced.

Shawn showing up at the club meant that he’d somehow remembered their first encounter, as well as the others, and had connected the dots.

The bastard had already suspected Calypso of cheating on him, and now he had a face to put on her imaginary lover.

Well, not imaginary, but Calypso hadn’t been unfaithful although she’d had every right to be. Her husband certainly hadn’t refrained from it, as Brundar had witnessed in his memories.

Parking his car a few houses down the block, he removed his boots and sprinted the rest of the way barefoot. A stealth approach would give him the element of surprise. A split second difference was all he needed to disarm Shawn.

He’d expected to hear loud arguments, maybe even Calypso crying, but the house was eerily quiet, and all the blinds were pulled down, blocking him from peeking inside.

Imagining the worst, Brundar’s pulse quickened.

He prayed he wasn’t too late.

He prayed he hadn’t misjudged the situation and Calypso wasn’t somewhere else altogether.

Far from a criminal mastermind, Shawn was a simple-minded thug. He wouldn’t have thought to take Calypso to a motel. Besides, he needed privacy for what he intended.

But what were his intentions?

To hurt Calypso was one, that was for sure. Brundar had seen into the guy’s mind. The other was to kill her lover.

He was waiting for Brundar. Which was excellent because it meant Calypso was alive. Probably gagged.

By holding her hostage, Shawn could force Brundar to submit. The jerk could actually manage to kill Brundar. The right kind of bullet, shot point blank to the heart or the brain, would end him.

It was good that backup was coming. He only hoped Anandur hadn’t mobilized the entire Guardian force. He’d said he wouldn’t, but he hadn't sworn on it.

Circling the house to the back, Brundar checked every window and door, but they were all locked. Not only that, they were all wired. Shawn had either activated the alarm or not, but Brundar couldn’t take the chance that he had.

Not with Calypso’s life on the line.

That left coming through the front door. If Shawn was waiting for him, he would be sitting in his living room and facing the door with a gun in his hand.

The question was whether he was going to shoot first and talk later or the other way around. Brundar was hoping for the second one. The guy had probably taken all of his villainous ideas from the movies, where the bad guys delivered long speeches before firing a single bullet.

A knife in each hand, Brundar kicked the door in, zeroing on his target, who was hiding behind the terrified Calypso, a gun aimed at her temple, and a second one pointing at the door.

She was tied to a fucking chair, and the only part of the coward’s big body sticking from behind it was his left shoulder. Brundar could’ve hit it easily, but the jerk would press the trigger and kill Calypso on the spot.

It was back to the original plan—serving as a pincushion for the guy’s bullets until Anandur arrived.

“You don’t want to do that, Shawn.” Brundar imbued his tone with as much influence as he could muster.

“None of that, asshole.” Shawn pressed the trigger, hitting Brundar in one knee, and then immediately going for the other. Brundar’s legs collapsed. He would’ve powered through the pain, but the mechanics simply were no longer there.

His knees were shattered.

It was one of the rare injuries that took weeks of regeneration instead of minutes or hours. For some reason, re-growing bones and tendons was harder than internal organs and muscle tissue.

Calypso screamed. Shawn put an end to it with a blow to her face, sending her toppling sideways together with her chair.

With Calypso out of the way and no longer providing cover for her ex, Brundar let his knives fly, both hitting the same target—Shawn’s blackened heart.

The knives bounced back and clunked to the floor.

Laughing, the guy tore his shirt open, showing Brundar his makeshift armor—a large cast iron griddle strapped to his torso, protecting all of his vital organs.

Fuck, he should have aimed for the knees, same as the motherfucker who wasn’t as stupid as Brundar had thought he was.

It also made sense now why he’d aimed at Brundar’s knees without having any way of knowing Brundar’s vital organs were less vulnerable than his joints. Shawn had assumed Brundar had come prepared the same way he had, with something to shield his heart.

The guy calmly walked around him, keeping his distance as if sensing that Brundar wasn’t as incapacitated as he looked, and closed the door Brundar had left open.

Brundar tried to concentrate and effect a thrall, but the pain was too intense. He managed a weak one, only to feel it disintegrate before he was able to coalesce enough mental power to hurl it at Shawn.

Besides the guy had somehow figured it out, probably assuming hypnosis, and was ready for it, actively resisting.

Even in peak performance, Brundar would have had a hard time thralling an actively resisting human.

“I could kill you right now, motherfucker, but I want my whore of a wife to see her lover die.”

He grabbed Calypso’s hair, lifting her up together with the chair she was strapped to.

Thank the merciful Fates she was still unconscious and didn’t feel it.

“Wake up, bitch.” He slapped her bruised cheeks, first one, and then the other.

As if yanking her by the hair wasn’t enough to wake her if she could’ve been awakened. Brundar could hear her steady heartbeat, which meant she was first and foremost alive, but also that she was mercifully spared the pain and anguish.

“You’ve got the situation all wrong. I’m just a friend.” Brundar was trying to stall, and he wasn’t above using the misconceptions people had about him. “I’m gay. She has nothing I want. I swear.”

Shawn frowned, contemplating Brundar’s statement and eyeing him suspiciously.

Then he waved his gun and smiled.

“Nice try. Is that why you delivered the divorce papers in person and roughed me up? Because she has nothing you want? Is that why you are here facing death? Because she has nothing you want? I don’t think so. You were thinking with your dick, buddy, not your brain. And your dick is dumb as fuck.”

Hell and damnation.

Where in the name of the bloody Fates was Anandur?