Let Them Kneel (kaelani and Julian) novel Chapter 93

They drove for nearly an hour in silence.

The farther they got from the packhouse, the more Julian’s pulse steadied… but the ache for his mate remained. Like a tether stretched taut in his chest, threatening to snap.

At last, Jace turned onto a cracked service road lined with rusting signs and overgrown brush. At the end of the path stood a nondescript garage — faded red paint peeling from the siding, a dented Coke machine leaning uselessly against one wall.

A single motion sensor light flickered on overhead.

As they pulled up, the corrugated garage door groaned and began to rise. Inside, beneath yellowed fluorescents, stood a broad-shouldered man in a grease-stained jumpsuit. He wiped his hands on a rag, then stuffed it in his back pocket as the car rolled in.

Jace killed the engine.

The man gave a nod, eyes flicking from Jace to Julian. “’Bout time.”

Jace stepped out first. “Good to see you too, Mack.”

They did that half-handshake, half-hug thing — quick, but familiar.

Julian climbed out on the other side, eyeing the place with quiet scrutiny. The walls were lined with old tires, tools, and shelves full of parts. A battered fan oscillated lazily in the corner.

Mack reached behind the workbench and hauled out two weathered backpacks. He tossed one to Jace, the other to Julian.

“Everything you asked for’s in there,” Mack said, voice rough like gravel. He pulled a crumpled cigarette from behind his ear and lit it with a snap of his fingers. “Burners, fake IDs, clothes in the sizes I was given — if they don’t fit, tough shit.”

Julian unzipped his pack just enough to glimpse the contents. It looked legit. Efficient. No frills.

Mack exhaled smoke and reached into his pocket again, fishing out a small set of keys on a twisted ring. He tossed them underhand to Jace.

“Take the rustbucket. ’97 Impala. Hood’s ugly as sin, and the A/C don’t work — which means nobody’s gonna look twice at it.”

Jace caught the keys with a grin. “Perfect.”

“I was heading home one night, driving down this empty stretch of highway when I saw it—five guys in ski masks trying to jack a mechanic shop. Guns drawn, and Mack was alone. I should have done what we’re supposed to do, follow Council protocol—don’t interfere with human affairs—but I couldn’t just drive past it.”

He pauses, jaw tight with memory. “I knew what they’d do. Rob him blind and kill him anyway. So I stopped. They fired at me, and I shifted mid-air. Tore through three of them before the other two even processed what happened. The last one pissed himself and ran.”

Julian lets out a low whistle. “Damn.”

Jace nods once. “Mack’s not perfect. He runs his business in the gray sometimes, but he’s got a wife, two kids, and he’s kept my secret without flinching. So yeah… knowing him came in handy tonight.”

Jace shifted into drive, eyes scanning the empty road ahead as the garage door rumbled shut behind them.

Julian leaned back in the passenger seat, the weight of the night catching up to him, and muttered under his breath—

“He sure as hell did.”