by Jami Gray
‘The decision to go after Simon?’ Vex pressed.
‘That was solely on the Raiders. They figured since Simon stuck to their mangy hides like a tick, Reznik wouldn’t mind if they picked him off.’
Before Vex could comment, Havoc cut in. ‘Crane’s death?’
‘Courtesy of Reznik,’ confirmed Charity.
Vex followed the natural course. ‘Reznik is making a play at the trade routes.’
Charity nodded. ‘And has some grand plan involving the kids, hence their kidnappings. Unfortunately, before we could find out more, someone decided to take out the Raider and his mini-me with well-placed bullets, then tried to remove River Man.’
‘Obviously they didn’t succeed since you said he has Ruin.’ That observation belonged to Havoc.
‘Right.’ Charity rubbed her neck, trying to ignore the uneasiness clawing for attention. ‘River Man plans on handing Ruin over to Reznik.’
Vex’s hands curled into fists, but her voice remained deceptively calm. ‘You got a plan on how to get my brother back?’
Now it was Charity’s turn to growl, but instead of continuing to claw at Vex, she pivoted on her heel and stalked over to the dead man. Standing over the body, she dragged a hand through the tangled mess of her hair, ignoring the stinging bites against her scalp, blind to the bloody mess at her feet. ‘For the most part.’
‘Lay it out,’ Havoc demanded, coming to stand on the dead man’s other side so he could face her.
She looked up, meeting his unreadable regard and winced. ‘You won’t like it.’
He grunted. ‘Will it get Ruin back?’
‘That’s the goal.’
‘Then get it on with it.’
‘Right.’ Blowing out a breath, she reached for a calm that kept slithering away in tandem to the sound of seconds ticking by. While the two Vultures listened, she laid out her plan. It was a hell of a long shot, but if it played out right, all the Vultures, including Ruin, would walk away.
When she was done, both Vex and Havoc studied her with identical blank masks. It made her antsy. ‘What?’
‘You going in planning to die?’ The strangely gentle comment came from Havoc.
Stunned, she blinked. ‘No.’ Even as she answered, she tried to ignore the burning certainty that if it came down to it, she wouldn’t hesitate to step in front of Ruin and take a blade to the heart. She couldn’t face the real reason why it was so important Ruin survive. Not yet. Maybe later. Better to focus on how to get him out and remove the threat of River Man and Reznik permanently.
Havoc continued to study her, saying nothing, but it was Vex who took her by surprise. ‘Better not be lying, Charity, because I got a feeling if you are, it’ll just piss my brother off. Ruin ain’t nice when he’s pissed.’
Needing to focus on the task at hand, Charity shot back, ‘Think you’re a little late with that warning.’
That earned her a fierce smile. ‘Probably, but at least I can tell him I gave it.’
Roughly fifteen minutes later, Charity led Havoc and Vex along the shore where a battered wall kept the undesirables from a three-story home. The stately old beauty managed to survive the widening reach of the Columbia, but not the greedy hands of a family with ties to New Seattle’s underworld. Chain wielding bastard tried not to share, but she finally got him to squeal. Since the family split their time between their place in the city and here, River Man had an agreement that allowed him use of the family’s home for business transactions when they weren’t in residence. Even better, Reznik was expected to make an appearance somewhere between two and three this morning. It was roughly two-thirty, and she hoped they weren’t too late.
Thanks to her years’ long obsession, she could predict some of Reznik’s behaviour. Like the fact the paranoid weasel would bring in his standard six-person team to watch his back. River Man took Scar Face and Muddy Eyes when he dragged away Ruin, bringing the grand total of targets to ten. Her font of reluctant information admitted there would only be a few sentries posted since River Man didn’t like making his business public. In this case, it worked in her favour—less numbers for the Vultures to carve through while she kept Reznik and River Man occupied.
The wall didn’t last long and gave way to the heavy cover of old-growth trees. In the far corner of the property where foliage and shadows made it difficult to see, but easy to slip in, Charity didn’t hesitate. Ignoring the aches and pains of her protesting body, she scaled the wall, using the rough surface for finger and toe holds. Once on top, she used the overreaching branches to make her way further in. She didn’t wait on Vex or Havoc but picked a spot where she could see the house and any movement.
Straddling a thick branch, she gave her body a break and scanned the roofline. It didn’t take her long to spot two lookouts in position, one on the roof and one walking rotations on the ground. The sparse coverage upped her chances of gaining access without unwanted attention.
The tree swayed as Vex used a different branch to come up beside her. Charity’s hand braced against the trunk, her body moving in sync with the tree. When everything settled, Vex’s voice drifted over. ‘I’m counting two.’
‘Leaves at least another four inside,’ Charity confirmed.
‘We hope,’ came Havoc’s contribution from the nearby tree. ‘Time?’
Charity’s goal was the small third level window in what she hoped was an unused bedroom just above the back porch. According to her now dead font of information, that particular window was left unlocked so River Man’s minions could sneak a smoke. Trying to ignore the panicked ticking clock in her head, she studied her intended path. The trail of overlapping branches stopped just short of the low porch roof on the second level. Thankfully the other larger windows nearby were dark. ‘Four minutes. I’m going to need a clear shot to jump from the tree to the roof without being seen.’
Vex was all business. ‘We’ll take care of it.’
Charity didn’t wait, but got to her feet and moved as carefully as possible over the branches. Focused on her route, years of sneaking into forbidden places took over. Her pulse remained steady, her head clear, and it was all about the next step. It wasn’t long before she was out of the tree and facing the gap between nature and architecture.
The mental timer in her head counted down the last few seconds of her allotted time. A sharp crack, as if a branch broke, was followed by muted shouting. Then the rush of feet sounded. Simply trusting the Vultures to do what needed to be done, she didn’t waste her chance and jumped.
Landing with a soft thump, she held her breath and watched the windows for signs of detection. When it remained blank, she shimmied up one of the rounded pillars supporting the porch. It put her high enough to grab hold of the edge of the overhang. Gritting her teeth against the screaming protest of various body parts, she pulled herself up. Blinking away the sting of tears, she cleared the roof and rolled to her back. She sucked in air, rolled to her side, then her feet. Creeping towards the dark window, she minded the narrow ledge. Falling now would suck.
The window opened with a soft click. Sending up a quick prayer of thanks for idiots and their addictions, she slipped inside. The tension riding her ass eased as she sank into the dubious protection of the house. With the window once more closed, her nose was assailed with the mix of stale tobacco and the hushed mustiness of a closed room. She crouched under the windowsill and waited, letting the feel of the house settle around her.
It was a strange occurrence, one she never tried to explain because it barely made sense to her. It was as if her body tuned itself to the surrounding atmosphere until the two blended into one entity, and she found it easier to slip around the inhabitants unobserved. This house carried a sense of quiet pride, the kind found in families who could trace their blood back through generations. There was an insolent vibe to the pride, probably a recent addition from its new owners. Tapping into that, Charity used the ambient light to move soundlessly to the door. She waited to ensure no-one lingered o
n the other side, then, standing off to the side, slowly pulled it open.
The cooler, cleaner air danced in and twirled the older air back into the hall. Charity followed. She picked her way down polished wooden halls, her knife held close and out of sight. Getting to the second floor was simple as the top floor appeared empty. The second floor required more caution, thanks to the lights burning along the halls. She strained her ears for voices, but expectant silence answered.
She didn’t waste time checking the rooms on the third or second floor, knowing her goal would be found in the basement. No matter how tight your ties to the criminal elements, those who lived like this abhorred blood on the hardwoods. She bypassed the stairs leading to the first floor and decided to risk checking the last rooms at the end of the hall, a faint hope pushing her. The hall light was dark. A quick scan of the fixture noted a burnt out bulb, which meant this area wasn’t used as much. The first door revealed a book-lined room with a couple of couches. Any other time, she would have taken her time to check out the titles filling the shelves.
She closed the door and moved to the next room. Draped shapes indicated a storage area. Closing the door, she backed to the middle of the hall and caught her shadowed reflection in the hanging wall mirror. Covered in dust, it turned her reflection into a ghostly apparition. Under the mirror on a marble top entry table with delicate legs was a dried flower arrangement. But what caught her attention and drew her closer was the curled leaf dancing across the top.
Sneaking closer, anticipation hummed through her veins. What appeared to be a sunken linen closet was actually a narrow staircase. She did a mental victory dance at finding the servants’ staircase. Not many surviving structures had one anymore, but this house had been around longer than most. She crept down the claustrophobic passageway, and when voices drifted up, slowed to a stop a few stairs from the bottom. The tickle of ammonia hit her nose and she stifled an unexpected sneeze. Someone had been doing some serious cleaning.
‘Where’s Larson?’ The whip of command meant that voice belonged to whoever considered themselves in charge.
‘He and Stig are doing the rounds outside.’
‘I’ll send Baylor up to switch positions with Larson in fifteen.’
‘Yes, sir.’
These must be Reznik’s men because they were a far cry from the morons River Man hired.
‘Anything comes, notify me. I’ll be downstairs,’ directed the head honcho.
‘Yes, sir.’
She listened as the order giver moved away, then a heavy door opened, releasing a rush of damp, earth filled air. The corresponding shush of it closing was followed by a poorly stifled sigh. Palming her knife, Charity decided it was time to give a few orders of her own. Like, sit. Stay. Roll over. And her favourite, play dead.
Lighter steps moved away from her hiding spot. She crept down the last few steps to peek around the edge, only then realising the thick, hand carved post that marked the end of the cabinets concealed the stairway. Perfect.
The man wandering the spacious kitchen, going from window to window was dressed in black, the standard mercenary uniform. Even his dark hair was shorn short. The kitchen was open, cabinets, appliances and the sink lined three of the walls. The wall nearest her was an arched entryway into the main living spaces. The door she wanted was across the way, next to a huge ass refrigerator, a relic from before the Collapse. Sheesh, it was big enough to stash a body. The thought made her pause, then grin. First, she needed to catch the watcher off guard. She clicked through a few options before finally settling on one. It wouldn’t work for long but should be enough to get close.
She moved out of the stairwell like a silent shadow and slipped along the wall of cabinets, her goal just inside the entryway, where the cabinets ended. She leant against the side of the arch as if she snuck in. Deliberately bringing her blade out, she played with it. The motion caught his peripheral attention and he spun around, menace dropping him into a prepared crouch, a blade in his fist.
She flashed her craziest smile and continued to play with her blade, not moving from her purposely unconcerned pose. ‘Hiya, soldier boy.’
He watched her for a few tense seconds, trying to judge the threat. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
Using her blade, she aimed the tip at her chest and affected a mock pout. ‘Me? Why, sugar, I’m one of River Man’s guards.’
He slowly straightened, his gaze narrowing. ‘You weren’t here before.’
She shook her head in time with her blade. ‘Don’t go gettin’ yo’self all worked up there. I’m just reportin’ in, followin’ orders and all.’ She cocked her head to the side. ‘You know how it is, dontcha?’
His grimace was proof he was buying her act. ‘Yeah. Still, no-one said anything about late comers.’
‘Oh don’t fret, sugar.’ Taking advantage of the small opening, she pushed off the wall and sauntered over to him, dropping the hand with the blade to her side, and adding extra swing to her hips. Sure enough his gaze dropped down, then stuttered back up. She closed in. ‘I promise you won’t get in trouble for my being here.’
Proving that even the best-trained man could be blinded by hormones, he replaced his blade then folded his arms over his chest. ‘You going to guarantee that?’
She took the last step that put her inches away, then leant in, laid one hand on his chest, petting it through his t-shirt, and tilted her head back. He dropped his at her unspoken offer, and she whispered as she bunched his t-shirt in her fist. ‘Yes, sir.’ She pulled him down, her lips smothering his gasp, and stared into his widening eyes as she sent her blade slicing up and under his ribs, finishing with a quick turn of her wrist.
It was awkward moving his dead weight without removing her blade, but she didn’t want to risk leaving a blood trail. As fun as it would be to test her theory about stashing a body in the fridge, it would take too long to make room in the thing. And time was one thing she was short on. Instead, she dragged him into the oversized pantry. Judicious removal of some potatoes and other bulk staples gave her enough room to stash him under the bottom shelf. She pulled her blade free, then re-arranged the items in front of him. Not the best solution, but by the time his blood made it out the door or someone stumbled across him, she’d be done. Hopefully.
She made a beeline for the heavy door. This next part sucked because chances were high that her entrance would catch someone’s attention. Hopefully, Vex and Havoc managed to remove the two outside. She gripped the cool handle of the door, took a deep breath and pulled it open.
Chapter 24
‘I’m not happy.’ The cultured tones contained a lethal sharpness guaranteed to make a person bleed.
Not that the man the voice belonged to needed the help. As far as Ruin could tell, the bastard got off on watching others suffer. Not enough to do it himself, but having someone else do his dirty work? Oh yeah, that was working like a fucking charm for Reznik. And didn’t that prove Charity right? Once again hanging from the damn chains, Ruin took another hit that left him rocking. The burst of agony jerked his thoughts off-kilter and left him fighting back the darkness that beckoned. Somewhere in front of him and to his left Reznik was bitching to River Man.
‘Making an example out of one of Fate’s Vultures can’t hurt,’ cajoled the Broker.
Under the overhead lights, the classic lines of the crime lord’s face took on an ominous edge. ‘If I wanted to make examples out of them, I would have directed Tyke’s people to do so,’ he snapped. ‘I believe my orders were to wipe them out if possible. The only thing you’ve accomplished by this is bringing the Vulture’s attention directly to my doorstep.’
‘You can offer him to—’
‘Who the hell are you?’ A rough bark cut off River Man’s suggestion.
‘Back off unless you want to be wearing your intestines as a necklace.’
Everything in Ruin stilled as the icy response slipped through his pain-filled haze. She wouldn’t fucking dare!
&n
bsp; ‘And I promise you, Reznik wants to see me.’ Feminine arrogance coated each word.
Ruin forced his head up and watched in furious shock as Charity backed Reznik’s man down the stairs, her knife held at the ready. He wasn’t the only one stunned by her appearance. Reznik and River Man both turned towards her, but Ruin could still see their faces. Reznik’s was cold and calculating, River Man’s was dark with fury.
‘You bitch.’ That endearment came from Scar Face who stepped away from Ruin and slid around Reznik to close in on her.
‘Uh-uh. Back off. Not here to talk to you or the flesh bag you call boss.’ She didn’t take her gaze off the other man she was stalking. ‘I’m here to talk with Reznik.’
‘And you would be?’ Reznik’s question cut over the stuttering protests of the two hired Blade Men, and the strangled growl coming from River Man.
‘An opportunity you don’t want to miss.’
‘You’ll have to give me more than that, my dear.’ The false charm provided a thin veneer for his calculation.
‘I have an offer from Lilith.’ And just like that his blonde bundle of trouble snagged her prey and signed her damn death warrant.
A litany of curses rushed to escape, but Ruin kept them at bay through sheer will and the judicious application of teeth to his tongue. Despite his impaired vision, he tried to look around without being obvious. Reznik stood in front of him to his left, River Man on the right. Reznik’s man and Charity were by the stairs. Scar Face and Muddy Eyes played witness from the far side, where Reznik’s other man stood, still and silent. Going back to the staircase, he prayed to see movement. When the shadows remained shadows, his gut clenched. For all that was holy, please don’t let her be here alone.
‘Let her through, Jonas,’ Reznik ordered the man on the other end of Charity’s blade.
His man held his position in silent defiance.
‘Now,’ snapped the crime lord.
