“Sanderson admitted he knew what Gunther was working on before he disappeared.” Aviere’s voice dipped to a whisper. “Then rubbed my conviction in my face seconds after.”
“Saint Mary save me,” Jemina whispered, fetching a miniature red and white box. “Need smoke, Aviere. God help us, you involved Joseph and I without consent.”
Aviere covered her nose as nicotine flooded her nostrils. “Fine, but Gunther would’ve searched for you, Jemina.” While allowing Jemina to recover her composure, Aviere dragged Joe to the side. “How’d you follow me?”
A mischievous grin spread on the werewolf’s lips. “Tracking device. We’re not playing around finding your car like last time.” Seconds later, a scowl replaced Joe’s whimsical smile, echoing the tense muscles in his neck and jaw. “The whole ride, I bitched about her cigarette, and you let her smoke another one.”
Joseph forgets her feelings about Gunther, Aviere reminded herself, groaning at the woman’s compulsive behavior. Would he tremble if something happened to me? Besides Travis, I mean?
“Jemina’s allowed her feelings, Joseph. Gunther was closest to Jemina, after all.”
“He married you, not her.”
The words settled in Aviere’s mind when she met Jemina’s stony eyes. Chocolate orbs narrowed before averting her gaze, clasping the cigarette between thick fingers. The woman took deep drags, blowing puffs of smoke from her mouth. With each smoke, Jemina’s trembling eased.
“Even so—they were close. Always in trouble together.”
“For all her bellyaching, Jemina’s concerned about you.”
“No, Jemina pretends while fulfilling her duty to my husband,” Aviere argued. “We hate each another.”
“Jem’s feelings changed over the last decade, Vi. But you wouldn’t understand.”
Aviere wanted to criticize, but gazed at her rival’s anguished face, fighting against comforting the buxom woman. A stiletto tapped against the concrete, changing in rhythm each time. A foot crushed the concrete, indenting her shoe until cracks splintered in the ground.
Arms wrapped around Aviere, steadying her from the quaking ground.
“Jemina, stop,” Joe ordered. “I’ll allow you ten minutes alone with Aviere.” The werewolf’s tone softened when he spoke in Aviere’s ear. “Just talk to Jem. She sought you out this evening.”
Aviere rubbed her cheek, recalling her last dispute with Jemina. She lingered on Jemina’s full-figure form, longing for more muscle and meat on her supple frame. “The last time Jemina wanted to chat, she broke two of my fingers. Ten minutes alone might kill me. She waits till—”
“If you’re working for Sanderson, I can’t supervise you two anymore,” Joe countered. “Killing you is an exaggeration. But Jem would stop fucking with you if you countered her attacks.”
Aviere’s tender voice raised an octave. “Wait—you’re fine with me attacking your girlfriend?”
“Life partner. Twenty-three years doesn’t qualify as girlfriend, but we can’t get married since she’s an illegal immigrant.”
“The government probably knows Jemina’s living with you,” Aviere pointed out. “Considering two Hispanic children live with you and they have social security numbers, IDs and—”
“They covered our kids, Vi. Jem’s already upset she owes Sanderson. Otherwise, she’d be a legal immigrant by now.” The werewolf patted her back and Aviere winced. “Ten minutes, Vi. All I’m giving you.”
Aviere stomped her foot and balled her fists as her best friend headed away from the deserted shopping center, her eyes resting on a cherry Corvette parked in a nearby gas station. The metallic color sparkled underneath the light from the gas pump and Aviere gritted her teeth, narrowing her eyes at the outline of a wide-brimmed hat through the windshield.
I should’ve tracked Travis instead of letting Joseph take care of business. I alleged to handle my own problems, not rely on others to protect me.
A piercing whistle diverted Aviere’s attention, and the Poisoner spun around, snarling at the Black Widow crooking a manicured finger to her. A devilish smile passed over the Latina’s face as Aviere brushed brunette hair from her shoulders and headed toward her rival, discounting her fluttering stomach.
I don’t understand Joseph’s change of heart, but Jemina’s always shielded her emotions through contempt. If Jemina cares, why such hostility? She’s the sharpest woman I know—despite her eccentricities. But she can’t harbor resentment toward me about Gunther forever.
Aviere’s instincts blared against the meeting, but she forced a frigid smile and portrayed her donna mask, ready to meet the feisty bruiser. She didn’t doubt Jemina knew how to manipulate, and remembered her relationship to the Vulture as her second after Eisen's demise.
“Jem, give me your report about Irving’s death and the situation in the Underground,” Aviere commanded, hand on her hip. “I need to find Vinny McSeeten.”
Jemina applied dark lipstick to her lips, puckering them afterward. “Sanderson said you know, sí?”
The Poisoner jammed a finger against her forehead, calculating precious minutes before Joe returned. She prepared for an argument as she walked to the Latina, matching the hatred in Jemina’s chocolate eyes.
“I negotiated for information about your best friend and pissed my family off. Even Joseph’s steamed I involved him without permission. Instead of being a raging bitch, answer my question before I smash your goddamn head against the hood of your precious Mako Shark. I won’t pay for damages, either—so don’t lie.”
The Latina laughed again, scratched her chest and spoke, animosity building between the two women as they traded information.
I knew Rodriguez lied through her teeth, Travis fumed, lowering his binoculars. The bitch knew Mye the entire time. Does Q know Mye? Did Mye feign against knowing about her acquaintance’s involvement?
Pinpricks traveled through Travis’ limbs and he dropped the dark binoculars on the passenger’s seat, considering his options. He studied the strained body language Aviere displayed, how she clung to the werewolf when Jemina’s steely words cut through her interrogation. When the mechanic stormed off, Travis noticed the mood changed, how Jemina’s gray aura brightened against the wavering forest-green one.
Adrenaline poured through him, enhancing his senses, anticipating another confrontation between Mye and Rodriguez.
Travis stepped out of the Corvette, fetched his gun, and probed at the women’s conversation with his magic. The animosity built the longer they spoke. Knowing the reputations the women held, Travis wondered which would act first.
Rodriguez and Mye are both volatile, but Rodriguez can hold her own against other shifters in the Renegades with brute force. Mye’s cunning and deceitful like Rodriguez, but she’s agile and quick when attacking. Mye’s frail, but I subdued her last time. I can’t imagine she’d win against a beefcake like Rodriguez.
As Travis listened, he rooted for Aviere to make the first move, since her clipped voice sharpened with each terse response. He noticed Jemina toyed with Aviere’s replies, despite offering key fragments of information. The exchange became heated when Aviere pressed for further information and Jemina bellowed with laughter, mocking Aviere for manipulating other people instead of asking herself.
While Travis didn’t discredit Jemina’s claim, he understood Aviere’s delicate position.
Mye’s world turned upside-down yesterday. For someone who’s got a contract on her head, Mye’s doing well. But does Sanderson understand Rodriguez’s playing both sides and hiding her affiliation with Mye?
Travis wanted to delve into their heated change, but his left eye twitched and pain pulsated in his temple. Before retracting his power, Travis sighed in relief, supporting Jemina offering to contact allies and inquire about the assassinations. He snickered when Aviere declined, requesting a direct connection to investigate herself. The last statement Travis caught made his brain hurt, considering the women spoke in circles, lashing out through insults as t
heir negotiation deteriorated.
Mye’s got moxy, handling Rodriguez toe-to-toe. Everyone else avoids Rodriguez.
Pounding footsteps registered in Travis’ ears and he pivoted when spinning directions, positioning the gun at the incoming adversary. Travis controlled his aim, pausing after recognizing the mechanic at Tricksters. “Stop, mechanic.”
“Joe,” the other responded, crossing his arms. “No need to shoot, agent. Aviere can handle herself.”
“How the bloody hell did you find me? I showed after your rendezvous.”
The mechanic chuckled. “The question of the hour. I’m familiar with the bracelet. Jem has an anklet while Vi wears a bracelet, but I imagine you’re collared.”
Travis growled, steading his aim. “Good guess.”
“Well, after meeting Vi, I figured you’d follow her.”
Jesus Christ, Mye’s crew are insane, Travis thought, rubbing the base of his neck with a hand. Even wolfman’s admiring my car. Don’t these people have normal hobbies, like seeing movies or shopping?
A cat meowed in Travis’ ear. “What’s going on over there, Travis?”
“Not now, Peters,” Travis mumbled, lifting an eyebrow when Joe dragged his fingers across the body of the Corvette. “Busy.” The agent sighed and clutched the gun tightly with both hands. “Jesus Christ, stop admiring my borrowed wheels like eye candy, mechanic.”
“Someone hooked you up,” Joe complimented. “The Corvette’s the newest model and contains toys for underground racing. It’s almost better than my Mustang. Hope the hardware keeps up with Vi’s maniac driving.”
“Speaking of Mye—” Travis darted an eye back to the two women in the deserted shopping plaza parking lot. “You’re certain she can handle Rodriguez? She’s not a physical fighter.”
“I figured you and my woman worked together, but it’s not their first physical altercation. Jem won’t kill Vi. She’s resentful of Aviere, but I understand why, considering Vi’s hiding behind someone.”
“How much do you know about Rodriguez, mechanic?”
“About you or her job?”
“Both.”
A knowing smirk spread on Joe’s lips. “More than she believes. Why?”
“The woman’s incorrigible.” Travis stepped closer, gun positioned at Joe’s chest. “She wanted vacation and our boss informed her we don’t give them. So she leaked shit to the media before disappearing for a week out of the country.”
“Oh my god.” Raucous laughter followed Joe’s whispered surprise. “I’m amazed she didn’t rob Sanderson blind for vacation money. Probably forced the bastard to pay for the tickets and hotel in Puerto Rico last year, too.”
“She did. Retracted the leaked information after he paid her twenty grand.”
“I put nothing past Jem.”
“Who the hell named that woman?”
“Her mom. They don’t get on. But the more you interfere, the less control people think Aviere has. I stepped aside, hoping she’d deal with Jem for once. They’ve fought since I’ve known them.”
Travis raised the tip of his hat. “I sympathize.”
“It’s what alcohol’s for,” Joe explained. “Believe me, I expected worse, considering Jem’s stuck working with her. But Jem's worried. She didn’t expect Aviere to be tagged by Sanderson. We figured one day she’d be framed, but we had a contingency plan.”
Travis pondered Joe’s words and dissected the discussion again. Between the tones of sarcasm and hostility, Travis recognized the mutual respect each carried for the other. He thought of the sincerity in Aviere’s voice when she inquired about Jemina before the women turned defensive.
“Fine, I’ll trust you.” The agent lowered the handgun and returned it to his holster. “But if Rodriguez breaks any limbs and costs us our lead, I’m reporting your woman.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, but you’re bound to your word. Shoot Jemina and you’ll deal with more than destroyed drywall.”
As Joe headed back to the two women, Travis put two fingers to his throbbing temple before sitting in the Corvette again. He snatched the bottle of Coke in the cup holder and chugged down a third before sitting back in the seat and wiping his forehead. Travis cradled the plastic container in his hands and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply when assessing Aviere’s band of associates.
A stoned mage, a fashionably dressed tiger shifter, a woman with super-strength dressed like a tramp, and an alcoholic werewolf holding his companions together. No wonder wolfman drinks. I’d probably be the same way dealing with Mye and Rodriguez.
Travis pulled out his Blackberry and went through his email until Aviere finished up, cursing when he discovered another email from his boss with the subject line in capital letters. He’d answer the director later—after he stopped chasing Aviere every time she drove somewhere.
The negotiations had almost disintegrated when Aviere regrouped to her Ferrari, leaning against Jet’s sturdy frame. She studied Jemina’s actions and tsked as the Latina brushed her stilettos, releasing fine grainy rocks on the blacktop. The Poisoner removed her glasses and dropped them inside her car, honing her feline senses before losing control of her temper.
She’s humiliated me enough. I’m tired of Jemina’s attitude when I’m short on associates to trust. Besides, I did what she couldn’t—I’m facing the truth about Gunther’s disappearance the only way I know. The holier-than-thou attitude stops now.
Pupils transformed to wide slits, and she inhaled deep, detecting bitter, flowery perfume. Aviere itched her nose before snarling at Jemina, contradicting the patronizing smirk on thick ruby lips.
“Jemina, I hate asking you for anything.”
“Sí. Dealing with you—”
“Cut the bullshit.” Aviere rubbed her arm and released a strained sigh. “We’re here for a common goal, aren’t we?”
“You think I need help?” The Latina strode to Aviere in five strides, rubbing her nose against Aviere’s chin. “I find Gunther without you, Mye.”
Aviere hissed, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t use my middle name, Jemina. Bad enough the others latched onto using it. But you know better. Who else can pursue finding Gunther? Fists and manipulation carries one only so far.”
The Poisoner’s dark grin widened when Jemina’s hand slapped across her heart.
“You lack conviction, Aviere. Hide behind everyone. Even Travis, for limited time you know him—he save you. But sponsor—there’s one—one who choose you.” Agitation laced the Latina’s speech as her eyes squinted at Aviere, flicking ebony curls over her broad shoulders. “You tame rogue mage—Sanderson allow you racing—and now, you get biggest sponsor wanting you specifically. Lucky puta.”
Sponsor? Shit, Jemina would know, wouldn’t she?
“Lucky? My apartment’s destroyed and a hitman’s trying to ice me, Jemina. That’s why I—well—”
“You had assumption right. I protect you because of Gunther, Aviere.” Crimson manicured nails raked against muscled forearms. “However, you hold up well, for contracted target. Surprising.”
“Who’s my backer, Jemina?”
The Latina chuckled. “Not yet. Earn respect, first. Then I tell you interested party. But he hate Lil’ Vinny. Closest person to grant up audience with weaselly fuck, too.”
Jealousy’s overtaken her, Aviere thought, curbing the impulse to strangle the shorter woman. I didn’t petition for a sponsor yet. Maybe Joseph’s remarks hold merit, after all.
“Thanks, Jemina,” Aviere said with sincerity, struggling to maintain a neutral tone. “In the meantime, I’ll continue working my case—find out about Travis and Peters—oh god.” She covered her mouth. “Travis misses the only time I refer to Neuro by his name.”
“Ugh, puta—that problem with you,” Jemina told her. “You not alone, Aviere—so no pity party. Other people involved. Your brothers—they talk—worried. It our duty to protect you. We promised.”
Great, Jemina’s reveling—gloating about my helplessness.
She reminds me of Neuro, except she backs up her threats with force. But Jemina’s toying with me. I won’t let her win.
“Nothing to say, kitten?”
“If it’s for obligation, forget it, Jemina.”
“Your mother—she protect you. What you do now? Myra’s dead. The only woman to understand you—”
“Don’t mention my mother, slut,” Aviere ordered.
“You think Limere and Maurice should shoulder burden? Joseph? Me? No.” Jemina wiped the dirt from the bottom of her stiletto. “Accept my offer, Aviere. At least you can trust me more than Travis, sí?”
“No,” Aviere replied, turning behind her at scraping footsteps. When she caught her grizzly friend, Aviere waved. “You and Travis both use me, but you delight in annoying me.”
“You took my—”
“No, I didn’t. But either way, you’re cooperating, so thank you. However, we’ll finish our discussion later.”
Without warning, Aviere jolted, then collided against the door of her Ferrari. A hand thrust her head harder into the metal, denting the newly repaired vehicle. She jerked her head to face Jemina, eyes zooming on her prey. Once locked on the tiny Latina, Aviere pushed against her strength, then rolled away, seizing her forearms as her pulse quickened.
Claws sunk into fleshy, toned arms, electing a scream from Jemina.
The two tumbled to the ground and Aviere sunk her claws deeper, kneeing the woman in the stomach. Her attempt failed and Jemina’s elbow dug into her throat. Aviere croaked before retracting her claws, caressing her sore esophagus as her rival cursed, nursing her forearms when they shuddered.
Aviere snickered when Jemina stumbled, trying to rise before collapsing on her side.
“Puta. Sneaky shit, you are.”
The Poisoner closed her eyes until her sight cleared from cloudy, scarlet tunnel vision. Blood stained her leather gloves and dripped down her fingers to her wrist.
Turbulence: Book One in The Renegades Saga Page 14
