Drift: The Renegades Saga: Book Two

by E. M. Whittaker

  Glossary

  Terminology used in the Renegades Saga

  Capodecina: Leader of up to ten men; also another word for a cleaner. In Aviere’s case, the term is used interchangeably with her previous title.

  Capo: Short for capodecina.

  Cleaning: Taking steps to avoid being followed.

  Contract: Order to assassinate another person, with permission from higher ups. Usually given to capodecinas or other ranking assassins.

  Donna: Woman boss in charge of a section of the mafia. Also referred to as a don’s wife.

  Don: Boss in charge of a section of the mafia. Used as the leader, above the Underboss.

  Empty suit: Useless person, dead weight who hangs around.

  Enforcer: Bruiser for the Family’s leaders.

  Friend of mine: Third-party introduction to another within the Underground. Not indoctrinated, but can be vouched for by a Family/Underground member as safe to speak around.

  Meat eater: Dirty or corrupt cop.

  Omertà: Word for code of honor within the mafia. Usually means death if it’s broken carelessly.

  Off the record: Done without permission of the bosses or against the Omertà.

  Pencil pusher: Someone with a desk job (accountant, office worker).

  Piece: Gun reference.

  Take a walk: Conducting a meeting about important business without being overheard.

  Spanish Glossary

  Spanish Terminology

  Bruja: Witch

  Puta: Bitch

  Tesero: Treasure (often seen as “mi tesero”, meaning “my treasure”)

  Vidente: Seer

  Also by E.M. Whittaker

  Turbulence The Renegades Saga: Book One

  One calculative move changed her life forever.

  Aviere Mye thought that she’d left street racing behind after her work as poisoner and apothecary for Charm City’s crime syndicate earned her a place in the Underground.

  When she is handed an opportunity to race again, she seizes it, hoping to find answers about her husband’s disappearance. But the Underground had its own plans for her. A string of murders set the authorities on her trail, forcing her to work with Keith Travis, a rogue agent with the FBI, to apprehend the culprit responsible for the crimes.

  With only seven days to complete the assignment before a bomb explodes, can Aviere survive both Travis and the Renegades?

  Drift The Renegades Saga: Book Two

  Synthetic drugs sold by the Zodiac Cartel uproot a dark past Aviere Mye buried.

  After recovering from Vinny McSeeten’s murderous spree throughout Baltimore City, Aviere Mye just wants to enjoy her last night of medical leave before returning to work. However, what should have been a peaceful meeting between Aviere and her race sponsor, Louis Armandi, instead ends with a drug-related death inside the Tethered Mistress and a bittersweet reunion with her partner.

  As Aviere and her unit receive their next assignment, several curveballs are thrown her way… including the addition of Karyn Greene into her life. Aviere’s assignment to have the Zodiac Cartel eliminated is complicated by her brothers’ growing adoration of Karyn as well as the fact that Aviere’s partners want to arrest Limere, who started the Zodiac Cartel years before.

  Armed with the promise of expunging the charges against Limere and receiving more information about her husband’s mysterious disappearance, Aviere charges into the investigation, hoping to solve their case—as well as her personal problems—within their ten-day deadline. But when Travis’s growing powers threaten them all and Peters tries undermining her authority, Aviere’s only salvation is Limere… the person who caused her problems in the first place.

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  Several hours later, Aviere stormed through the drafty hallways of the Baltimore City Renegades compound, allowing each stomp to accent her feelings about Lowell Sanderson.

  Every echoed footstep became an imaged fantasy of stomping her boss’s nose. Each clomp her boots made emulated the satisfying crunch as blood spilled from his nostrils. Her eyes twinkled in mirth as she licked a canine and held the manila folder close to her chest. The cool air reflected her icy heart, while the heat in her cheeks burned like a tempered blade.

  She rounded the corner, steeled herself, and kicked in the office door, ignoring the objections from further down the hallway. Before her partner followed her warpath, Aviere slammed the heavy door closed and locked it behind her.

  This should get Lowell’s attention. It certainly got everyone else to notice.

  Euphoria filled her when Lowell Sanderson smashed a picture frame next to his desk and bled as a splinter embedded underneath his fingernail. He nursed his wounded finger before suckling on the injured digit.

  Well, well. How about that, Vi. You entered with a bang and made Lowell rip his button-down shirt. Even his cologne couldn’t hide his surprise as his scent spiked with momentary fear.

  She kept silent while Sanderson grumbled about his ruined light blue striped shirt, but smiled at his visible discomfort.

  “You have some nerve, Aviere.”

  She gestured to herself as she tilted her head in curiosity. “Me?”

  “Who else makes entrances like you?”

  “I can name quite a few people.”

  “Barring all male individuals.”

  “Jemina.”

  “Granted, but she would throw a tantrum before destroying shit. You blew me off for a month, toured around Quantico last night for fun, nearly killed Travis because you forgot to tell him, and then rammed into three cars with a concrete-filled pickup truck a half hour ago when you returned from said trip.”

  Aviere snickered before pausing at Sanderson’s deadpan stare.

  “My condolences about your BMW, but I swear to God, it wasn’t us.”

  “I’m impressed you managed to transport concrete bricks underground with a Ford F-350.”

  Maybe Agent Peckerhead had enough of Lowell’s games like the rest of us. Wouldn’t surprise me if he leveled his car.

  The Poisoner cracked her neck and hid her growing satisfaction at the vindictive thought while she watched Sanderson drop a report on top the mahogany desk. One finger pushed a page forward and scrolled through its contents while she waited for him to continue.

  There. I knew it.

  “To think, I had a reward ready from your last assignment. If this is how you show your appreciation…”

  Aviere waved her hand in exasperation. “Lowell, the truck belongs to Red Rooty. That moron shouldn’t drive any vehicle without learning depth perception.”

  “Goddammit, I thought Mia had him under control.”

  “I guess you’ll be calling the highway patrol crew to fix the tunnel entrances he smashed through again. Maybe they’ll take his license this time.” Aviere lowered her glasses to read the fine text on one report. “However, skip the bullshit and explain why you’re threatening my unit with disciplinary measures for actions I’m responsible for, not them.”

  “I’ll remind Darnell to keep better control of his wayward assassins.”

  “Darnell and his men aren’t the issue,” Aviere stated, slapping the side of her report. “You understand why I’m here.”

  “You’re still hopeful to solve mysteries long left buried and maintain unwanted family ties.”

  “And when you hired me, you understood that certain stipulations were non-negotiable,” she snapped, skimming through her paperwork. She grounded herself as she found key words within a paragraph. “I didn’t force anyone to follow me. Your sick fascination with my family isn’t public knowledge, and I’ve done my best to keep others out of our feud.”

  Aviere leaned against the door, careful to hide the weakness in her shaking legs. As she noticed the telltale steeple from Sanderson’s hands, her cocky attitude diminished. Instead, she adopted a studious look, eager to spot any discrep
ancies in his demeanor or his words.

  I’ll find out something, Lowell. Once I do, I’ll give you enough rope to hang yourself, you slithering worm.

  “Agreed. Every time your peanut gallery asks questions, you evade the topic or warn them of their folly.”

  “Normally, I wouldn’t, but Agent Neuro doesn’t need more ammunition.” She cast her eyes toward the door and prayed no one picked the locks. “I wonder if you planted him for sick entertainment.”

  “No, I hoped you’d kill him. He’s a thorn to both of us, Aviere.”

  Hm. I wonder what else Lowell will confess to this evening.

  “However, I suppose you deserve something, despite your stolen report and unexpected visitors. Consider it a reward for keeping our disagreement between us. I hope for your continued cooperation because I need a favor.”

  The last sentence divided Aviere’s attention and she shifted her eyebrows. “I don’t like where this conversation is heading.”

  “You’ll find the deal interesting if you choose to accept my proposal. I’ll even double your completion bonus. It’s time-sensitive material, and you’re perfect for the job.”

  Hungry eyes brightened as she waited for Sanderson to move. The report crinkled as she pressed it close to her in anticipation. As the larger man slid a sealed bubble envelope across his desk, Aviere took a deep breath, willing herself to contain her excitement at her small victory.

  Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the thought of opening the envelope, scrawled in cursive from someone she recognized.

  You did try to tell me, Gunther, she thought, lips hardening in a thin line. I swear, Lowell thrives on drama and conflict.

  “Your darkened look tells me you expected this, Aviere,” Sanderson said, folding his hands after leaving the envelope in place. “However, it wasn’t his place to leak information, was it?”

  “How dare you,” she hissed. “You arrogant—”

  “Open the fucking thing before I rip it to shreds. Be grateful you’re getting anything at all.”

  Just do it and get it over with, Aviere, she told herself, closing her eyes at Sanderson’s victorious tone. Lowell expects you to lose your mind, so don’t give him the satisfaction. Otherwise, Travis and Neuro will never leave you alone.

  The snarky specialist’s face, sharp coffee-colored eyes, and near nasal tone did not ease her troubled mind. However, imaging her unwanted partner was better than the lecture she’d receive over her recent stunt.

  Okay, scratch that, Vi. Neuro never stops eavesdropping on you.

  “The last time I checked, you can’t levitate anything,” Sanderson said in a snippy tone. “Unless your new tattoo harbors magical powers, of course.”

  One hand covered the tribal marking as she grabbed the envelope, biting back a scathing retort.

  “You’ll find several missing pages, but he’s quite the sentimental fellow. Brazen shit, too. I didn’t know he sketched.”

  “You pervert,” she whispered, shivering as she finished speaking. “He only sketched certain still-life portraits.”

  “I noticed. Your beauty is marred with burns and scars compared to Myra’s pristine complexion.”

  Aviere snarled before pulling out several pages splayed with the neat cursive her missing husband bore. A chalky white substance trailed on her dark leather gloves as she flipped through them, assessing his thoughts before the letters were intercepted. Eventually, she settled to read the note, hoping for any useful information.

  Instead, she felt as if she was socked in the stomach and rage filled her tiny body.

  As she sat in the squeaky cushioned chair, Aviere’s head filled with unanswered questions. Her scattered thoughts peppered through her husband’s imagined voice as her eyes hungrily devoured each page. In between his monologue of regret and shame, another story emerged—one of a unfulfilled promise he left unspoken between them.

  She slipped a glove off and clutched the page, breathing in apple spices and salt from stained tears where black ink bled into the next paragraph.

  The scent, which soothed her at first, fueled her rage as she retrieved her Beretta air pistol and aimed it at Sanderson.

  There’s no way to prove if Sanderson orchestrated this entire fiasco, but he’s hiding information, Ma. I’ll find out both mysteries before I wind up dead.

  “I’d be careful where you point your toys, Aviere,” he warned while wagging his eyebrows. “It’s nice to see the family resemblance didn’t die with Myra.”

  The pages crinkled underneath Aviere’s gloved fingers. “You’re playing with matters you don’t understand, Lowell. Not even we—”

  “You’re all I have. Even imperfect, you’ll make a good research subject.”

  “I am not yours to command,” she declared, straightening her arm while maintaining a calm demeanor. “I make my own choices.”

  “You’re fine commanding men without regards to their safety.”

  Aviere rose and kicked the chair away as Sanderson followed suit at his desk. “I didn’t advocate to reopen a sealed project and create—”

  “Your husband detailed too much when he wrote his little letters,” Sanderson muttered, voice dark while Aviere caught darkened metal unsheathing from a blade. “Even missing, I wish that fucker was dead. Alas, you’re aware of the project, so there’s no need to pretend anymore.”

  There is hope, Aviere rejoiced, suppressing her jubilation. However fleeting… there is a chance. But what is the cost to finding you, Gunther? Is there a way to circumvent needless bloodshed?

  The oxidized knife flashed with each movement and Aviere tracked Sanderson’s wrist, waiting for the perfect chance to shoot. She studied his devious expression before he slammed the blade into the desk, ruining it for the second time before her eyes.

  As one eye tracked him reaching underneath his desk, the other narrowed at the darkened runes alongside the bottom of the blade.

  Those runes—are they—

  “Before you ask questions, I’d reconsider your position.”

  She jammed the letter inside her jeans before jutting her chin and locking her jawline. Her nose scrunched together as Sanderson took the safety off the H&K VP9 pistol he retrieved.

  “I’ll cut off any chance you have of survival, bitch. I’m the reason you’re still alive. One word, and you’d be history.”

  Aviere grabbed the .45 Smith and Wesson strapped to her thigh and aimed both guns at him. Two steps in, Aviere growled, cursing the desk blocking her path. She almost splayed across the desk until she thrust her knee into the wooden shelving.

  Pain reverberated through her aching joints, but saved her from touching the oxidized blade and its handle.

  “Maybe you should rethink your statement.”

  “Ah, you never fail to entertain me, hellcat. Nonetheless, I’ll take you seriously when your clumsy escapades don’t ruin your cool action poses.”

  “I am serious. You’ve almost taken everything away from me. Ma, Gunther—I’m not sure about Limere, but—”

  “I had no part in anything involving the Red Coat Society, Aviere. Your insolent whelp kept inferring in their plans. Who was I to intervene when they insisted on a death wish?”

  Insisted? How would Lowell know unless—

  “We’re not supposed to have family ties,” he reminded her.

  Aviere’s ear twitched when an infrared laser came to life through Sanderson’s scope. As it adjusted, her eyes targeted the beam aiming at her heart.

  Several emotions flickered behind cerulean eyes, but Aviere settled for serenity as she realized the meaning behind Sanderson’s actions.

  It doesn’t matter if Lowell dies. Another cockroach will replace him. For now, focus on distracting him. You have enough rope… now let the bastard hang himself.

  “If you were my daughter, I’d slap you around a few times. But Myra never—”

  Being compared to a ghost is tedious. I’ll end this once and for all.

  Aviere stepp
ed back once, aimed and fired. A single bullet tore through Sanderson’s shoulder and he dropped his gun, cursing in pain. Blood dripped from his wound, staining the dark blue blazer he wore. With his free hand, he took a shot at her.

  She moved out of the way and rolled on the floor, but a second shot elected a loud whimper as it embedded into her thigh.

  “How many jeans will you fuckers shoot through?” she yelled, dropping her weapons to grip her injured limb. “Goddammit, I just bought a new wardrobe!”

  Slick palms slipped against her stained denim bellbottoms while she moved her leg toward her chest.

  Why couldn’t he have shot my other leg, not the one Aravice injured months ago? Goddammit, just my luck. I don’t have another elixir on standby.

  Cool metal pressed against her forehead as a large shadow loomed over her injured form.

  “You won’t get another try if you miss again, hellion. You almost got an artery this time, though.”

  “I swear, Lowell… I’m not my mother’s shadow and I won’t become Gunther’s either. However, I’m sure Lim and Ma are grinning in purgatory at your expense.”

  A bullet tinked to the concrete floor and Aviere growled when she straightened out her thigh. As Sanderson’s wound healed, she dug her fingers into her own to dislodge the bullet.

  After a few tries and slipping against her injured skin, she nabbed the bullet and grinned in triumph.

  The secondary distraction cost her as Sanderson’s body pinned her against the floor.

  Aviere snarled and snapped her teeth at him before watching her weapons slide across the office floor. Before her teeth met into his neck, a black object flashed and caught her sensitive eyes.