Retribute

by Alicia Rades

  I decided to scope the place out, see what I was up against. The address Cory gave me led me to an old warehouse. I parked the car several blocks away.

  Night had fallen, and I slipped through the shadows and tiptoed to a back door I hadn't seen anyone use. Inside, I navigated endless hallways, following the sound of voices until I came to a huge room with a tall ceiling. It was practically the size of a football field, with endless rows of shelving.

  “What is this?” a male voice snarled.

  I peeked around a dark aisle to see a group of a dozen men in an adjoining room. They were gathered around a small table beneath a dim light. Tyson was nowhere in sight.

  The guy in charge threw a bag of white powder to the guy across the table from him. “I asked for a strong batch of chrysanthemum, not this weak ass shit.”

  The blood drained from my face. Chrysanthemum? It wasn't just a beautiful flower. It was a slang term for a type of drug made with magic. Everyone who knew anything about magic knew that all the magical drugs were named after flowers. Cory hadn't told me my brother was involved in a magical drug cartel. My pulse quickened. This was definitely dangerous.

  “The price of this stuff has gone up tenfold in the last week,” the boss snarled. “Supply is down, and demand is higher than ever. But we need the best if we want to charge these kinds of prices. Tell your sorry excuse for a witch that we won't accept such a disgusting insult.”

  “Yes, Maverick, sir,” the man replied in a shaky tone.

  “Don't come back without the quality we expect,” Maverick spat. “You don't get another shot at this, kid. Don't screw it up.”

  The guy huffed and left the room. I sank back into the shadows, only to back into something solid. My heart pounding, I turned and looked up to what I'd run into. A pair of blue eyes stared back at me from several inches above my head. Thick biceps twice the size of mine crossed over the man's chest.

  I had only a split second to make a decision. It momentarily crossed my mind that without my shifter magic, I stood no chance against this guy. Before I knew it, my feet were moving under me, and I was making a run for it.

  “Hey!” he barked. His footsteps echoed through the warehouse behind me.

  Suddenly, a dozen voices were screaming and shouting as I raced toward the nearest door. I was almost there—

  Arms tangled around my legs as I went crashing to the ground. I rolled over and caught a glimpse of the guy's face a split second before I slammed my foot into his nose. Blood spurted everywhere, but it only made him smirk.

  “Big mistake,” he said in a deep voice.

  His fist connected with my face, and everything went dark.

  I didn't know how much time had passed. All I knew was that my head hurt like hell when I came to. A dark room came into focus, and I noticed three figures standing in front of me, though I couldn't make out their faces past the blinding light shining in my face.

  I tried to lift my hand to shade my eyes, but I couldn't move them. They'd been tied behind my back. My throat burned with more thirst than ever. Had these guys still been cursed, I might've begged for a hit.

  I hated myself just for considering it.

  The guy in the middle stepped forward until he was beneath the light. Maverick.

  “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” He clicked his tongue and narrowed his eyes. “Do I know you?”

  “No,” I answered quickly, but I wasn't sure that was the right answer.

  “He looks a little like Michaels,” one if his cronies pointed out.

  “Michaels?” Maverick spat. “You better start making sense, Cal.”

  “The little vampire shifter you recruited a few years ago,” Cal clarified.

  Every muscle in my body tensed. Tyson!

  “Remember the coyote Remy used to pick fights with just to watch him squirm?” Cal glanced to the big dude who’d knocked me out—Remy, I assumed. Remy and Cal both chuckled, but they stopped dead when Maverick turned to glare at him.

  “We don't talk of traitors around here!” Maverick snapped. “That kid left us for Diego’s gang across town. Took our trade secrets with him, too. If I ever see that son of a bitch again, so help me I will slit his throat myself.”

  I tried not to let my surprise show. I came all this way, and Tyson wasn't even here? If he had truly betrayed them, they'd kill me just for being associated with him.

  “Don't ever bring up that traitor's ass again,” Maverick snarled, glaring between the two of his cronies.

  “Look,” I said, forcing my voice to stay calm. I was anything but calm. My strength was near non-existent, so there was no way I was getting myself out of these ropes without talking my way out.

  “I don't know any Michaels,” I lied. “I got your name from a friend. I'm here to buy some flowers.”

  Maverick turned back to me with a smirk. “Is that so? We don't tend to do business with people who sneak around our warehouse.”

  “Could be one of Diego's spies,” Cal suggested.

  Maverick’s face lit up, like he approved of the suggestion.

  “What should we do with him?” Remy asked, cracking his knuckles. “Send Diego a message?”

  “No, I'm not Diego's,” I said quickly. “I've never even heard of him. Honestly. I'm from out of town. I just need something to get me by while I’m here.”

  “Maybe we should—” Cal started, but Maverick cut him off.

  “We don't want to be turning away good business, boys.” Maverick leaned so close to me that I could feel his breath on my face. “Who sent you?”

  I hesitated. I could give them Cory's name, but I didn't want to get him into trouble with these guys. The only other name I could think of was a guy Cory had mentioned he worked with. I jumped on it.

  “Brent from Chicago,” I lied.

  Maverick relaxed, then scoffed. “Brent from Chicago. I should've known. Show us the money, kid.”

  “In my wallet.” I lifted my hip the best I could and nodded toward my back pocket. I’d visited the bank before I left Nocton and pulled most everything out of my account for this. I was grateful I’d left some of it in the car. These guys wouldn’t hesitate to clean house; then I’d be left without anything to get back home on.

  Remy snatched my wallet out of my pocket and flipped it open. He pulled the bills out and tossed the wallet back to me without digging through the rest of it. The wallet bounced off my stomach and landed several feet away on the concrete floor. Remy handed Maverick a wad of cash. Maverick flipped through it with a satisfied smirk on his face. There was at least a few hundred dollars there.

  “Let him go, Remy,” Maverick ordered.

  Remy drew a blade from his hip and cut the rope restraining me. I quickly grabbed my wallet, then followed behind Maverick as he cocked his head toward the door.

  “What exactly is it you’re looking for, kid?” Maverick asked as we started down a dark hallway.

  I said the first thing that came to mind. “Magnolia.”

  “A great choice,” Maverick said. “One of my favorites. Have a seat.”

  Maverick gestured to an open doorway leading to the room I’d seen him in before, though we came in on the other side. I took a seat at the end of the table. My hands shook as I waited, but I forced them to remain steady. All I had to do was get out of here with my limbs intact.

  Maverick sat across from me. Remy and Cal stood behind my chair with their arms folded in front of themselves, like they were standing guard.

  “Tell you what, kid.” Maverick laid my money out on the table, then leaned back in his chair. “What you’ve got right here will buy you an eight ball of magnolia.”

  “That’s it?” I balked before I could stop myself. In Nocton, that amount of cash would buy at least three times that.

  Maverick shrugged. “Prices have gone up. You’re not going to find a better deal in these parts. Are you going to take it or leave it?”

  I heard the threatening sound of Remy’s knuckles crac
king. I didn’t want the drugs, but I knew that if I didn’t accept their offer, I’d be walking out of here with nothing in my pockets. At least if I took it, I could resell it and get my money back.

  “I’ll take it,” I said, wanting nothing more than to get out of there.

  Maverick smirked and pulled a small baggie filled with a light pink powder out of his jacket pocket. He set it on the table between us, then scooped up my cash. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

  I grabbed the bag of magnolia and started for the door. Remy and Cal followed behind to escort me out.

  “Oh,” Maverick said before we got far. “And tell that son of a bitch Brent he knows the drill. He better not screw up next time.”

  A shiver ran down my spine. I hadn’t meant to get anyone else in trouble. “Yes, sir.”

  I increased my pace as soon as I left the building. The door clanged shut behind me. I kept throwing quick glances over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t being followed. These weren’t the kind of guys I wanted to mess with. I reached into my pocket and clung tightly to my keys, just in case some bastard jumped out of the shadows.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when I made it back to the car in one piece. I quickly climbed inside and hightailed it out of there as fast as I could. Every muscle in my body tightened and remained on high alert.

  “Stupid, stupid!” I screamed to the silence, slamming my hand against the steering wheel. How could Tyson have been so stupid to join up in a drug cartel? And how could I have gone in there so unprepared, with no weapon or anything?

  On second thought, a weapon would’ve only made things worse. They would’ve found it and never bought my story.

  All that mattered was that I was out of there. I had a general idea of where Tyson was, and I was one step closer to finding him.

  It took one call to Cory, and I already had the details of where to find Diego and his men.

  “Bro, I’m sorry,” Cory had said. “You gonna bust up Diego’s on your own, too?”

  “That’s the plan,” I told him. All I needed was to get a glimpse of Tyson. Once I knew for sure he was there, I’d find a way to get him out.

  “Man, you’re crazy,” Cory had said.

  I approached a two-story home the next day. It wasn’t much smaller than ours back in Nocton—the one that burnt down. I knocked on the door.

  Silence.

  I glanced up and down the street. It was quiet… and a little eerie. I already had a bad feeling about this. The door popped open a crack.

  “Yeah?” A guy at least ten years older than me peeked out through the door.

  I hesitated a moment. He had an angry look in his eyes that made me want to run. But I stood my ground.

  “What the hell do you want?” he snapped.

  “I need a fix,” I lied. “Just one. I’ll pay whatever you want.”

  His lips tightened. “Who gave you this address?”

  I huffed, playing my part. “I dunno, man. He never said his name.”

  I tried to peek past him and into the house, but he took up the whole doorway. Come on, Tyson. Hear my voice.

  “You ain’t gettin’ anything without a name,” he growled.

  “Okay,” I caved, quickly modifying my story in my head. “Truth is, I don’t remember. It was Ty… Ty-something. He didn’t give me the address. I followed him.”

  The guy scoffed. “Ain’t no one by that name here. Get lost.”

  “Wait!” A hand shot out to grab the door before the guy could swing it all the way shut. The door swung open to reveal another man in a tattered white shirt and scruffy beard. “You talking about Tyson?”

  Hope surged in my chest. He recognized his name!

  I played it cool and shrugged. “Could be. Don’t know for sure. Bring him out here and I’ll let you know.”

  “You kind of look like him,” he said thoughtfully. “You some sort of relation?”

  I hesitated.

  The man swung the screen door open so hard that it nearly slammed into my face. I jumped backward, but his hands were already on me, fisting into my shirt. He shoved me up against the porch’s support pillar. His rotten breath rushed across the side of my face.

  “I asked you a question,” he spat.

  I shoved him off of me and ducked beneath his arm. “Get off me!”

  “Diego!” one of the men called.

  Diego kept a firm hold on my shirt as I tried to struggle out of his reach. My foot slipped on the top step, and we went tumbling down to the sidewalk together. He landed on top of me, then drew his fist back and slammed into the side of my face. At least six people had flooded out of the house to watch. Their cheers filled the otherwise quiet street.

  “What the fuck, man?” I screamed. I shoved him off of me, but I didn’t punch him like I wanted to, not if it meant they’d hurt Tyson because of me.

  He stumbled back, then ran for me again when I righted myself. His fist clipped my jaw.

  I held my hands up. “Whoa—”

  He took another swing at me, but I dodged around it. His fists tangled in my shirt again. I ducked and slipped out of my shirt. He looked at me with fury in his eyes.

  “No one comes ‘round here like this!” he screamed. “You hear me? You’re looking for Tyson? That asshole sold us bad secrets! You want to find him? Join him in hell.”

  He lunged at me again, and this time, I fought back. My fists slammed into his gut, but it couldn’t have felt any worse than the gaping hole opening up in mine. Tyson wasn’t here.

  Good God, brother. What had you done?

  The men on the porch quickly came to the aid of their friend. Suddenly, fists were flying at me from all angles. I aimed my foot at one of the men, and he went stumbling backward, then I swung my elbow out to connect with another guy’s nose.

  But there were too many of them. Their hands were all over me, dragging me to the ground until I couldn’t stay upright anymore. Their feet slammed into my ribs, my legs, my face—anything they could reach. Pain radiated all across my muscles. I tried to block their blows, but they just kept coming.

  Get to your feet! A voice sounded through my head. I tried to do as the voice said, but each time, I was just knocked down again.

  Get up! You're going to die!

  That sent a wave of determination through me. I brought my knees to my chest, then kicked them outward. They connected with one guy's abdomen. At the same time, I caught one of the feet aimed at my head, then twisted. The guy stumbled sideways into his friend beside him.

  It was just enough to give me an opening. I scrambled to my feet and took off running as fast as I could. Hands reached out to grab me again, but they couldn't hold on.

  I raced across the street and jumped into my vehicle, quickly locking the door behind me. The first guy slammed his body against my door, going wild like a rabid dog. I hastily started the car, my heart racing, then shifted into drive and shot out into the street. Two of the men had raced in front of my vehicle, like they could slow it down, but they jumped out of the way when they saw I wasn't screwing around and would run their asses over if I had to.

  My heart finally slowed when I returned to my hotel room. I called Rae that night because I missed the sound of her voice. She sounded worried, and I just couldn't bring myself to tell her what had happened. She’d demand I leave, and I couldn’t do that until I knew for sure where Tyson was.

  I met with a private detective the following day, seeing as I’d run into a dead end. It was going to cost a fortune, but I'd do anything to find my brother. I didn't care about the cost.

  After giving the detective everything I could possibly think of, he assured me there was nothing more I could do and suggested I go back to my hotel and get some rest.

  That day stretched for an eternity and into the night as I waited to hear back from the detective. The next day, the eternity continued. It felt like the waiting would never end, like I might never know where to find him—like he'd be lost forever.<
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  I tried to drink away my worries that night, but if anything, it made it worse. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, stretching out that eternity even more. It didn't help clench the aching thirst in my throat, either.

  Rae called me that night. The sound of her voice was the one ray of sunshine in an otherwise dark set of days.

  The next day, the call finally came.

  “Did you find him?” I asked the detective hopefully.

  “I'd like you to come in,” he said.

  I didn't know if that was a good or bad sign. I decided to take it as neutral to keep my hopes up. But the second I walked into his office, all hope had vanished. I could see the sorrow and regret in his eyes.

  “Please, Mr. Michaels,” Detective Olson said, gesturing to the seat beside his desk. “Take a seat.”

  “It's not good, is it?” I asked, already feeling it in my bones.

  Detective Olson sat and shook his head. “I'm afraid not. Your brother… he's dead.”

  I didn't hear much after that over the ringing in my ears. If I weren't already sitting, I would've surely collapsed.

  “When a vampire dies, almost all evidence is wiped away, including DNA evidence,” he said. “Most vampire deaths are identified through the IDs left in their clothing, but your brother never applied for one. What I did find…”

  Detective Olson turned his computer screen toward me. He hesitated with his finger over the keyboard. “Are you prepared to see what I'm about to show you?”

  “Yes,” I lied.

  My hands shook in my lap as the video began to play. A surveillance video overlooked an alleyway. Tyson's terrified face came into view as he retreated into the narrow space, looking on high alert. He didn't look a day older than the last time I'd seen him. Five men pursued him, looking like they were speaking to him. I recognized the build of the man in the middle.

  It was Diego and his men—the ones who’d tried to beat me to death.

  “Is that him?” the detective asked.

  I couldn't take my eyes off his face. I felt magnetized to the screen. I ran my finger across his moving figure, like I might be able to touch him through time and space.