We didn’t knock.
Gabriel picked the lock in under thirty seconds, and we slipped inside without a sound. The cottage was sparse and tidy, indicating that Thomas was a bachelor living on his own.
Thomas was asleep in his bed when we found him. He woke up to find me standing over him with Gabriel blocking the only exit, and before he could scream, I slammed my hand over his mouth.
“Thomas Black,” I said quietly. “We need to talk.”
He tried to run, of course. But Gabriel caught him before he made it three steps, shoving him back onto the bed so hard the frame cracked.
“Please,” Thomas stammered, “I-I don’t know what you want, but I haven’t done anything—”
“You cut the brake lines on my parents’ car.”
The color drained from his face. “I don’t know what you’re talkin
