Shadow Flight

by Christine Feehan

  The construction worker trapped in the booth tried to jump up as hot gravy and mashed potatoes burned through his jeans. The table and close booth seating inhibited his movements, causing him to teeter there, while the Demon member tipped more plates at the others sitting. One made the mistake of trying to punch the Demon while they all leapt up to protect themselves.

  Instantly the construction workers were dragged from the booth. The waitress tried to pull out her cell phone but another Demon caught her in a vicious hold, forcing her to drop the phone. He stomped on it repeatedly.

  “This café has the mark on it. You don’t ever violate that mark, or we kill every one of you, bitch, your families, and then burn your houses down. You got that?” As he threatened her, he kept putting more pressure on her arm until he nearly snapped the bone.

  She nodded over and over. The cook refused to watch, not even when sprays of blood went up and construction workers were piled up in the corner. One was dead, two well on their way and the fourth struggling for every breath but trying to crawl for the door. No one stopped him, but they watched as he made his way, using elbows and toes down the center of the café, leaving a bloody trail behind him.

  The plate-flipping member of the Demons smirked and then paced along beside him, kicking at him with his boots. “That was just a little warm-up, baby. Don’t you want to play some more? I’m in the mood to play. You all are nothin’ but pussies in here.”

  The gang member holding on to the waitress walked her over to the others. “Take their orders, bitch, and then get back here. Seems like you’re going to be the only entertainment we’ve got.” He leered at her and deliberately caught her breast and squeezed hard enough to bring on tears.

  Ricco glanced at Mariko. She didn’t change expression, but she was very focused on the gang member. He wore a blue plaid shirt. She didn’t look away from him, not even when the one who seemed to be in charge leaned down and slit the construction worker’s throat just as he reached the door.

  The Demons laughed, as if seeing the blood running under the door was great fun. The one in charge wiped the blade of his knife on the man’s shirt and turned back. “That’s thirsty work. We’ve got to eat fast and get the hell on the road.”

  The one in the plaid shirt grinned evilly at the waitress. “You’ve got five minutes to take these orders, and then you meet me and some of the boys in the alley.” He raised his voice. “I’m going out for a smoke. I want a Philly sandwich. Hot.” He gave her breast another twist and then sauntered out, stepping over the dead man.

  Three others gave their orders and hastily followed him out. The man in charge shook his head and laughed. “He’s always after pussy. Can’t help himself. You’d better hurry, honey. He can get mean if he has to wait too long.”

  Ricco and Mariko took the shadow leading them to the narrow alley behind the café. It wasn’t large enough to fit most vehicles. The garbage cans were in the back, but other than that, the asphalt was strewn with condoms, needles and cigarette butts. A few empty beer cans lay on the ground as well, and weeds pushed up along the broken seams, but for the most part, it was simply a narrow strip between a long fence and the building.

  The four gang members smoked, one a cigarette, the other three passing around a joint, all laughing. The shortest member walked a distance away, unzipped and relieved himself on the fence.

  Ricco slipped up behind him. A shadow in the dim light thrown by the hulk of the café. He caught the Demon member’s head between his hands and twisted, delivering the signature kill. “Justice is served,” he whispered as he lowered the body to the ground and disappeared back into the one shadow thrown by the bizarre flashing neon light from the massive overhead café sign.

  Laughter continued. One member turned his head toward their fallen companion. He sobered and walked a couple of steps toward him. “Alejo?” He hurried his steps. The others hadn’t turned around, still laughing as the side door opened and the waitress appeared framed there.

  Ricco waited until the man concerned about Alejo knelt beside him. Once again, he slipped behind him and repeated the exact same thing, catching his head and delivering the signature kill as he murmured the satisfying reality, “Justice is served.”

  “Come here, bitch,” the Demon member in the plaid shirt ordered, pointing to his feet. “Get on your hands and knees. We don’t have a lot of time. Don’t want my Philly to get cold.” He laughed and glanced around. He could barely make out his two friends lying on the ground.

  “What the fuck, Blas? What are they doing?”

  “Don’t know, Cleto, but Alejo’s got his dick out.” Blas giggled as he pointed. “I don’t know what Don’s doing, but he’s looking interested.” Don had fallen with his head very close to Alejo’s exposed groin. Alejo looked as if he had his fist around his penis and was offering it to Don.

  “What are you two doing? I bring you a present and you’re sucking each other’s dicks.” Cleto grinned and turned back to the waitress. “Guess you only have the two of us, but we’ll make it worth your while. I get your ass and Blas can have your mouth or pussy. It’s his choice.”

  Blas giggled again, the sound high pitched. “Give me a second, Cleto, be right there.” He rushed toward a bush, ripping down his jeans, eager to relieve himself, digging in his pocket for a condom at the same time. He heard Cleto slapping the waitress, heard her cry out and he winced. Cleto had slapped him a time or two, and he hadn’t liked it. He was always low man and he didn’t often get the opportunity to choose how he wanted a woman. Most of the time she was gangbanged and he got leftovers.

  He never heard a sound as Mariko slipped up behind him. He didn’t feel it as her hands caught his head in both hands and she delivered the sudden signature move of all riders, wrenching the neck for a quick kill. He didn’t hear the softly whispered, “Justice is served.”

  Mariko lowered Blas’s body to the ground. Cleto faced away from her. He had already forced the waitress to the ground, dragging her plain black skirt up to her waist and ripping her white panties off her.

  “Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he snapped. “I haven’t given you anything to cry about yet. Put your fucking head on the ground. I’m going to give your face road rash.”

  Mariko walked right up behind him. She didn’t use the shadows. She didn’t need to. He was fully concentrating on the waitress. He liked hurting people. He’d all but forgotten his fellow gang members in his eagerness to degrade and hurt the waitress.

  Mariko had to reach up to position her hands on his head, but she was used to height differences, and she’d trained endlessly for that. She waited a heartbeat to make certain she had them just right before she gripped and wrenched hard, using the signature move she’d practiced hundreds of times daily since she was a toddler. The neck snapped with an audible crack. She lowered the body to the ground as she murmured, “Justice is served.” She then simply stepped into the nearest shadow and rode it to the café’s doorway.

  “Sooner or later, someone will come looking,” she whispered to Ricco, nuzzling his neck.

  He stroked his fingers lovingly down her throat. “Said the spider to the fly.” He bent his head to brush a kiss into the shine of her blond hair. She had given him life back. She brought him to life. She made herself vulnerable to him and, in doing so, allowed him to do the same with her. She’d taught him how to love.

  He kept his arm around her waist, breathing her in. That scent that was all Mariko. She had a taste that was unique to her. He would be able to find her in the dark, know her no matter how many other women were there with her. There was always an innocence about Mariko, and when he watched her perform her duties as a rider, he found her breathtaking. She was a double-edged sword, a beautiful, dangerous woman, and he wouldn’t have her any other way.

  The door to the café was thrown open and a man stomped down the two cement stairs, but still held on to the door to
keep it open. “Cleto, Emidio says to get your ass inside if you want to eat. He wants to be on the road in five minutes.”

  Silence met his demand. He peered into the alley. The light was waning, and in the poorly lit alley, it was much darker. Light streamed from the café, but it only lit the fence. The waitress was still on her hands and knees, head down on the asphalt, wailing. Cleto lay on the ground behind her. The Demon member scowled and let go of the door to walk closer.

  “Cleto, what the fuck are you doing? Emidio is pissed. You know how he gets.” He took two more steps.

  Ricco glided up behind him and dropped him fast, not giving him a chance to turn around. There were five down and nine more to go. Now it was going to get tricky. If they were lucky, they might manage to get two more, maybe three, before someone realized there were dead bodies lying around and the Demons were under attack. It was extremely important that the two civilians not see Ricco or Mariko.

  The waitress suddenly turned her head, no doubt shocked that Cleto hadn’t raped her. She realized he was lying on the ground behind her and even then, she stayed where she was, afraid to move, frozen with terror for a few more minutes. Very cautiously she turned around, still on her hands and knees, and shuffled forward until she could look closely at Cleto. She gasped and drew back, realizing he was dead.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered and stood up abruptly. She flipped her skirt down and felt in her pockets for her keys. She looked wildly around and spotted the other bodies. She let out a high-pitched scream and ran for the tiny employee parking lot way in the back, where the alley opened up to four spaces.

  Ricco and Mariko could hear her screaming the entire way to her car, which was a good distance away. They knew those inside the café and any of the neighboring businesses would put the screams down to whatever crimes were committed daily at the café. Women were often assaulted there, and no one cared.

  The café door was flung open. At the same time, there was activity in the front of the café and more around the side lot. Emidio, the leader of the group headed to Chicago, had given the orders to leave, apparently with or without those in the alley. He must have sent others one last time to retrieve them.

  “Cleto, Emidio is leaving now. He wants you in the fucking truck with him now.”

  Two men stepped out together, providing a menacing appearance. Both wore weapons in plain sight, apparently to convince Cleto to come with them. They slammed the café door behind them, as if that might give them more authority, and stalked right up to the two men lying on the ground.

  Ricco and Mariko followed, two wraiths, stepping in the exact footprints of those they stalked. As they did so, three more members of the Demons came around the front of the alley, sent by Emidio to aid the enforcers in retrieving the five men still in the alley. Cleto must have had a reputation as a troublemaker, but Emidio wouldn’t want to lose five men. He’d count on them to prove to Benito Valdez that the St. Louis chapter was worth more than any other.

  Ricco and Mariko were in full sync when they performed their task, serving justice on the two enforcers, and then lowering them to the ground almost right on top of Cleto and the one who had been sent to find him.

  “Seven down, farfallina mia. The odds are getting better,” Ricco whispered as they stepped into the closest shadow and rode it to the nearest tube that would take them toward the three members striding toward the fallen Demons.

  The tube was fast, one of the small ones that felt like greased lightning. It shook one’s insides apart and ripped at the cells of the body until you didn’t feel as if you were human. It was disorienting, and a rider got to the end of the tube and was in danger of being spit out before feeling as if he or she was back together. Ricco had stepped protectively in front of Mariko so he would arrive at the end first, blocking it for her.

  Ricco could see that these men would be more difficult for Mariko to take just due to their size, although she always got the job done. He glanced at her. She tipped her head back and met his eyes. As always, she looked serene, and inside him, where before there had been rage burning, she brought a sense of peace. Of calm. His center. He was always amazed at the depth of his emotions for her. Even now, in the middle of a difficult mission, when there were so many of the enemy, she generated a sense of well-being.

  Mariko was his partner in every sense of the word. They normally each took a rotation alone. There were so few riders that when requests came in from anywhere in the world, a rider was sent. It was rare to work in pairs. Ricco was grateful for the chance to be able to shape more memories of his woman being a warrior.

  He inhaled and took her scent into his lungs, taking her with him as he stepped out of the shadows directly behind the man who had fallen one step behind the other two. Mariko kept pace behind him, her feet shadowing his. He didn’t hear her, but he felt her energy, barely there, that vibration of feminine softness and steel. He matched the steps of the gang member exactly, his hands coming up in the classic kill. “Justice is served,” he murmured as he wrenched the neck and took him down to the ground.

  Without missing a step, Mariko was in the shadow of the footsteps of one of the two men coming up on Don and Alejo. The two Demons stopped abruptly. She stopped with them, turning as they turned. Her much smaller figure clad in the pinstriped suit blended easily with the shadows. Night had fallen and the streaks of neon red and gold threw out strange, macabre shadows that blazed and crept across the asphalt. The stripes of the suit allowed her to simply disappear when the gray hit her.

  Ricco admired the way his woman went so still. Movement drew the eye and she never so much as flickered an eyelash. The two men crouched low to examine the two bodies. One rose slowly. The other took his time but stood as well, both turning to face toward the café where the other bodies lay. They weren’t as visible, but neither man made a move to go search them out.

  One pulled out his cell phone. “Emidio. Two are dead. Necks broken. No, I don’t know if Cleto did it. Alejo and Don. I don’t see the others.”

  He looked at his partner and indicated to move forward. “He wants us to find Cleto.”

  He shoved the phone into his pocket and the two men reluctantly started forward, this time at a snail’s pace. They both took out guns and pointed them straight ahead. Neither even considered that the danger might be coming from behind them. Ricco glanced at Mariko to ensure she was ready. She nodded without even looking at him. She always knew what he wanted from her; she was so tuned to him she felt his gaze on her. That was a by-product of Shibari. Or as he preferred to call it, Kinbaku—meaning “light binding.” No matter what it was called, it was erotic and beautiful when he practiced the art with his wife.

  They moved up on the two men as one. It felt powerful and connective to be in step like that. He reached and she moved, leaping, her hands flying to the man’s head, positioning exactly while her legs wrapped him up. She wrenched, using her body weight, just as Ricco did the same with his hands. Audible cracks accompanied the whispers of “Justice is served.” Mariko was just as graceful dismounting the body before it hit the ground as she was when she went flying through the air in her perfect attack.

  Ricco locked his arm around her neck and dragged her to him, taking her mouth, because the combination of riding the shadows and seeing his woman in action was causing a powerful, intense reaction in his body. Every rider coming out of the shadows was desperate for sex. The drive was so brutal, they took care not to drink alcohol or go out in public until they could get themselves under control. He could feel the need, that terrible drive already on him, and they still had several shadows to maneuver and more tasks to complete before he could pay attention to the urgent demands of his body or those of his woman’s.

  She tasted like she always did. To the rest of the world she was pure warrior, reserved, aloof, always in control. For Ricco, she was his woman, showing vulnerability, ceding control to him, allowing an ex
change of power. Gifting him with her trust. She’d saved him when no one else could have. He loved her with every breath he took, and watching her in action strengthened his desire to make her life everything it should have been from the day she was born.

  She’d never had a decent family life, and he wanted to give her that. Eloisa wasn’t the best, she certainly wasn’t ever going to be a great mother to her, but there were Stefano and Francesca—the true heads of the family—and they loved her. Giovanni and Sasha had become immediate friends. Now there was Vittorio and Grace. Nicoletta had always been a favorite of Mariko’s. She’d treated her as a younger sister. And Mariko loved Taviano as much as he would let her. Taviano wasn’t a man who let others really know him. Ricco had been the same way for so long, he hadn’t really seen that in anyone else. It had been Mariko who had pointed that out. Then there was Emmanuelle. Everyone loved Emmanuelle.

  He had definitely surrounded Mariko with a large family, and they all loved her. They weren’t the only ones. He had an extended family that went on forever. Cousins. So many of them. They practically smothered the riders in protection. Mariko wasn’t used to so many people and so much attention, especially bodyguards following them everywhere when they went out to eat or to a club. He could tell they made her uncomfortable, even though she liked them.

  Mariko rubbed her hand along his jaw. “What is it, Ricco?”

  “I was just thinking how much I love you.”

  “You were frowning. The thought of loving me makes you frown?” There was amusement in her voice.

  Something about that soft laughter made his heart do a slow roll. “I was thinking how much you don’t like the bodyguards that always surround us. It will get worse if we have children. There’s very little I can do about it, and I promised you I’d do whatever it took to make you happy.”

  “I am happy, Ricco.” She tugged on his hand. “Let’s finish this. I’d like to get the job done and go back to being us.”