Black Lotus 2

by K'wan

  “Fuck you, Tay!” she said over her shoulder.

  “Now you’re speaking my language.” He pulled her in roughly. “You know, you been acting funny over this pussy since we came back from Voodoo. You think I ain’t peep game?”

  “I’m acting funny because this pussy isn’t on call to you 24/7!” Sable shoved him away. “Let’s get something straight. Our deal is that I play the role of the girlfriend in public and let you hit it once in a while behind closed doors. I’m not trying to lay up under you and let you go nuts on my pussy like I want to procreate with you. This is an arrangement, so don’t slip too deep into whatever script you wrote in your head about what this is supposed to be.”

  “Who the fuck you talking to?” Tay grabbed her by the arm. “You know, I don’t ever hear you talking slick when you’re out spending my money!”

  “Our money. Or have you forgotten that my hands get as dirty as the rest of y’all?” She let her words linger for a moment before jerking out of his grasp.

  “Fuck it, go be a ho in these streets if you want! All you care about is feeding your nose and partying,” Tay spat before returning to his seat. Part of him wanted to smack her upside the head for the way she’d been talking to him lately, but the girl was a bull; he’d have to be prepared to knock her out.

  As Tay sat there contemplating a way to fuck up Sable’s night, someone rang the doorbell. He looked at Sable, waiting for her to answer the door, but she ignored him. “Lazy bitch,” he grumbled on his way out of the bedroom. Grabbing his gun from the coffee table in the living room, he took a quick look through the peephole and saw Ben.

  “What up?” Ben greeted when he stepped into the apartment. He was wearing dark jeans, a smoke-gray sweater, and a black overcoat. His black leather bowling bag was in his hand. Anybody who knew Ben knew that he hadn’t bowled a day in his life, but the bag was never too far out of his reach.

  “Trying to keep from going upside this bitch’s head,” Tay said loud enough for Sable to hear through the open bedroom door. “I should’ve let Magic keep her.”

  “Not my business or why I’m here.” Ben tolerated the couple but didn’t respect what they had done. The only reason he still dealt with them was out of greed. Tay’s scores had been lining Ben’s pockets for months; as long as he remained useful, Ben would turn a blind eye to his deceit.

  “So, what happened with the old man?” Tay got right to it. He had been on edge since he’d seen Magic talking to Chancellor King at Voodoo. It was a bad omen.

  Ben shrugged. “Him and Magic chopped it up for a while, then he spent about an hour giving us the side-eye before breaking out.”

  None of this was new to Tay. He and Sable had played the cut watching Magic and Chancellor whispering like a couple of old maids. Tay didn’t have to hear anything to know what the topic of conversation was. “How much do you think he knows?”

  “Enough to bring him into Voodoo asking questions, but not enough to where you and me are chatting at the bottom of the Hudson right now.”

  “What about Magic? Where does he stand on all this?”

  “Where he always does: out of the way. So long as what we got going on doesn’t interfere with what he’s got going on, Magic will look away. But as soon as the two start to overlap, there’s a problem.”

  “I ain’t worried about Magic.”

  “Then that makes you dumber than I thought. Magic might’ve let you get away with fucking his bitch, but I doubt he’ll be so forgiving if you fuck his business. The lack of respect you showed at Voodoo didn’t earn you any favor either.”

  “What you mean? I was just coming to support my old friend’s new endeavor.”

  “Bullshit! I invited you because I thought him seeing you there to celebrate the moment with us would be a show of good faith and a way to wash away some of the bad blood between you two. But you had to bring your bitch and rub his nose in it, didn’t you?”

  “What’s the use of having nice things if you can’t show them off?”

  “You and Sable can play with fire all you want, but don’t burn me in the process,” Ben said. “Magic’s got a long memory, and he never forgets a slight.”

  “What’s he gonna do, slap me on the wrist again?” The fact that Magic had let him take Sable with no real repercussions made him feel that Magic was weak.

  “You don’t get it, do you? Magic isn’t the type of dude who wears his emotions on his sleeve. He’s like a viper, laying in the cut until the right moment—and then strikes!” Ben slammed his fist into his hand for emphasis. “Seeing the two of you at the club has him worked up about the heat that could come down on him for what you did.”

  “Don’t you mean what we did?”

  “Don’t play word games with me, Tay. You get the point. Magic is no fool, and you should know that. There will be consequences behind this shit. I was able to spin him, but I think he’s still suspicious.”

  “Magic has always been suspicious. Nothing new. Besides, if he jumps out the window and makes a move, it could jeopardize that squeaky-clean image he’s trying so hard to maintain.”

  “Just because Magic is doing the club thing now doesn’t mean he ain’t still got some dog in him. You and I both know what he’s capable of when his back is against the wall. You keep poking that bear, you’re going to get the claws. I can promise you that.”

  “Whatever you say.” Tay was able to use Ben’s love of money to lure him into their capers, but there was never any question as to where his loyalties lay. He was like a faithful dog at its master’s feet. When the time came, Tay would get rid of Ben, but at the moment he still needed him. “Anyway, our friends reached out earlier.”

  By friends, Tay meant the people who supplied their crew with high-tech weaponry, in exchange for giving up a cut of their profits and taking on the occasional contract. Tay had been introduced to them through Magic. When he took over the crew, he feared they would no longer receive the weapons, but fortunately their benefactors were more loyal to profit than they were to Magic. Business continued as usual. The unique weapons had been a game changer, and thanks to them, Tay and his crew were well on their way to sitting at the top of the food chain.

  “What’s the word?” Ben asked anxiously.

  “Timetable has changed. We’re moving on the spot tonight.”

  “Tonight?” The job in question wasn’t supposed to go down until the following week at the earliest.

  “Seems they’ve gotten a little anxious and want to speed things up.”

  “I don’t like this, man. Changing the plan suddenly like this feels a little suspect.”

  “I don’t like it either. I would’ve told them no, had they not agreed to double our normal fee.”

  Ben whistled. “That’s a lot of bread to bust into some meth lab.”

  “It ain’t meth they’re cooking in there. It’s supposed to be some new shit, hasn’t even hit the streets yet.”

  “So, we taking the shit?” Ben asked.

  “Nah, no heavy lifting this time. All we gotta do is snatch the recipe they’re using to make it, which is on a laptop hard drive. It’ll be the easiest score we’ve had in months.”

  “You’re planning another job?” Sable startled the men. They hadn’t even noticed her come out of the bedroom.

  “Same job, different time frame.” Tay repeated the explanation for Sable.

  “Tay, don’t you think that after what happened yesterday we might wanna consider slowing down for a minute?” Seeing the corpses in the van had spooked Sable. She was a thief, and murder was out of her depth. Her ear had been to the streets; apparently bounties had been placed on the heads of those involved with the deaths of the newlyweds. They hadn’t been the killers, but they would be hard pressed to prove it.

  “Baby, this ain’t no time to be getting cold feet. We all feeling some type of way about what happened, but it don’t change the fact that we got other obligations. You wanna keep those pretty claws you’ve become so fond of, t
hen we need to keep up with our quota.” She still didn’t look convinced. “Listen, sweetness, I’ll make a deal with you. After we pull this quick snatch, we’ll take some time off.”

  Sable glared at him.

  “Scout’s honor.” Tay raised his fingers in mock salute. “Once we hit this lab tonight, we’ll have plenty of cash. You and me can go spend a few weeks somewhere warm until all this blows over.”

  Sable knew that everything coming out of his mouth was bullshit, but she was used to it by now. When Tay first took over, he had shown promise as a leader, but lately he’d been slacking. When Magic was running things, what had endeared him to the rest of them was that he always put the needs of the crew before his own. Tay was too blinded by his own ambition to see what was good for anybody besides himself. She feared that one day he would be all their undoing. Times like these were when she missed her former lover the most. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d have been better off risking Magic’s wrath for snitching rather than locking herself into this facade with Tay. “I’ll be back later.” She grabbed her coat and went out the door.

  “You mean what you said?” Ben asked after Sable had gone.

  “About what?”

  “Stepping off after this next job.”

  Tay shrugged. “I dunno. Sable seems a little on the fragile side lately. Maybe I’m putting too much on her and the downtime will do her some good.”

  “Downtime? Nigga, this ain’t no regular nine-to-five. We criminals, remember? You’re the only one with a direct connection to our benefactor, and I can’t afford a hiatus while you and your shorty go on a couple’s retreat. You wanna go soak up some sun, then I’m gonna need a face-to-face with the benefactor so I’m not left hanging.”

  “You know that’s not how this works. He ain’t gonna go for me bringing nobody new to see him.”

  “I ain’t new! I been a part of this crew for longer than you have.”

  “Yet it was me who Magic brought in to meet his guy,” Tay reminded him. He could tell from the way Ben’s eye twitched that the remark had stung. Good, he’d intended it to. Magic had fucked up by letting Tay get too close to the people backing him. This was a mistake that he didn’t plan to make with Ben. Still, he needed the big man to play nice for now, so he tossed him a bone. “Listen, once all this blows over, you got my word that I’ll introduce you,” he lied. “In the meantime, while Sable and me are gone, I’ll set up a few nice scores that you and Snake can take off.”

  “Cobb!” Ben snorted. He couldn’t stand working with the detective, but Tay refused to get rid of him. He figured having a cop in the fold would give them an advantage. Ben saw the logic, but would never be comfortable working with the police in any capacity. “You see him today?”

  “No, I haven’t. I’ve been trying to get him on the phone all day, but nothing.”

  “Maybe after what happened he’s had a change of heart and gone back to the right side of the law. I don’t trust that pig.”

  “The thought has crossed my mind too, but Frank is more criminal than he is cop. He’s getting money, so it wouldn’t make sense to double-cross us. He’s probably laid up somewhere high as a kite with some bitch.”

  “You willing to bet your freedom on that?” Ben asked.

  Tay was not. “You’ve got a point. Why don’t you pay our little friend a visit before the job and make sure he hasn’t forgotten which side his bread is buttered on.”

  “With pleasure.” Ben grinned and patted his bowling bag.

  PART III

  prey

  Chapter 12

  Kahllah sat behind the wheel of the Honda Civic, trying her best to suppress her mounting agitation. The car was filthy: fast-food wrappers littered the floor, stains marked the seats, and everything reeked of cigarette smoke. She, a clean freak, would never keep her car in such a condition, but this vehicle wasn’t hers. She had appropriated it in a haste because she needed a quick getaway. She didn’t have to worry about its owner reporting it stolen, because he was secured in the trunk. He wasn’t dead, just unconscious. His fault for trying to play hero when she was stealing the car. So long as he didn’t give her any more trouble, he would not taste her blade. The kiss of steel was reserved for another.

  She still couldn’t believe the evening’s turn of events. Someone was trying to hang a body on her. This wasn’t the first time someone had taken a life in the name of the Black Lotus. She had become notorious in New York underworld circles as of late and birthed a number of copycat killers. Mostly they were nutjobs in masks, trying to score a payday, hardly worth her attention. But this one was different. She still wasn’t sure how the killer had managed to get ahold of one of her crossbred flowers, but she was going to take great pleasure in finding out.

  Before she could begin her investigation, she needed a change of clothes. She was still wearing the sweats and running shoes she’d put on when she left Dom’s apartment. There was no way she could risk going back there with Wolf looking for her. She drove the stolen car into Midtown, where she was renting yet another storage unit under a fake name. The one in the Bronx was mostly used for files, but the Midtown unit was where she kept a spare set of her tools of the trade.

  She slipped into a black jumpsuit, combat boots, and a thin Kevlar vest, which she covered with a black long-sleeved shirt. She tossed her spare mask into the duffel that carried her weapons for the night, including several stilettos and a short sword.

  To clear her name, she needed to find Detective Cobb’s real killer, which would be tricky since she didn’t have a whole lot to go on. She figured her best lead would be tracking down the man she had seen him meeting with at Amy Ruth’s. Sully Roth proved easy enough to find. Because of his conviction, he had to register as a sex offender upon his release from prison. A quick web search led her to his current address. It was a two-story house in Bensonhurst that he shared with his mom, a far cry from the high-rise apartment where he had once tried to rape Kahllah.

  She didn’t have to wait long for the worm to show himself. About an hour into her surveillance of the house, Roth showed up driving a brown beater. From the way his head kept whipping around when he got out, she could tell that he was nervous. It was like he feared the devil was hiding behind one of the bushes surrounding his abode, instead of in a stolen car across the street. He went inside and came back out less than two minutes later, tossing a bag onto the passenger seat before rushing back into the house, leaving the front door slightly ajar. From the look of it, he was preparing for a trip. She could’ve taken him right then and there, but figured she would let him leave and then follow in hopes that he would lead her to whoever else may have been involved. Fifteen minutes or so went by. Maybe he had changed his mind about running, or decided to postpone the trip—but he’d left his car door wide open. Doing so in this city was like begging for your wheels to be stolen. Something was wrong.

  She strapped on the harness that held her blades before getting out of the car. She crept across the street, head on swivel for police or any potential witnesses. A woman dressed in all black and wearing a mask was likely to draw attention. Thankfully no one was about. Pressing herself against the side of the house, she peered in through the living room window. A small television sat on a wooden stool, turned to a game show. At first all seemed normal, but then she spotted something: a furry slipper lying on the floor. A few feet away she could see what looked like a woman’s foot sticking out from behind the couch.

  Moving like a shadow, Kahllah slipped through the front door. She knew before she looked behind the couch that whoever the foot belonged to was dead. It appeared to be a woman in her sixties, dressed only in a bathrobe and headscarf. The cause of death was likely the gash in her throat. This could’ve easily been mistaken for a domestic dispute between mother and son that had gotten out of hand, but the wound was too clean. This was the work of an assassin. Kahllah reached down and touched the woman’s cheek, and a smile spread across her masked face when she found tha
t the corpse was warm. The killer was still in the house!

  Sounds of struggle came from the kitchen. Crouched low with a blade in hand, she peered inside just in time to see Roth struggling with a figure clad in black. To his credit, Roth put up a good fight, but he was no match for the assassin. There was the whistle of wind, followed by blood spraying the wall just above the stove. It was over for Roth, yet for Kahllah it was only the beginning.

  “I was hoping he’d survive long enough to provide me with some information, but it appears . . .” Kahllah’s words trailed off when the assassin turned around and she found herself facing . . . herself?! The assassin was wearing a black jumpsuit and combat boots, with a harness strapped to his chest. Aside from being slightly heavier, the figure seemed like an exact replica of Kahllah, even down to the lotus flower in the center of his mask.

  Kahllah was so stunned that she only narrowly avoided the blade that the doppelgänger whipped at her. The black-handled knife scraped the side of her mask before embedding itself in the wall just behind her. Moving with impossible speed, the assassin closed the distance between them, clutching a katana. She was ready when the strike came, a violent clash of steel on steel that sent sparks flying. His strength was impressive but wouldn’t be enough to save him. She was called the Maiden Sword of Justice for a reason, and he would soon know why.

  The two of them circled each other in the small kitchen. She expected him to press again, but he didn’t, as if he was taunting her, daring her to attack. So she did. Kahllah’s strikes were controlled and strategic, while his were reactionary. He was decent with a sword but no match for her. She struck twice. He managed to block the first, though the second lanced him across the stomach. Had it not been for the protective armor she would’ve gutted him with her hooked blade. She had him on the defensive now; as he backpedaled, she slammed a boot into his chest, sending him stumbling into the refrigerator, knocking loose several of the cheap magnets that decorated it. A two-handed strike with her hooked sword knocked his katana away, leaving him vulnerable. She put everything behind her next swing, aiming for his head, but he caught it with his hands. The blade was razor-sharp and should’ve cut clean through his fingers, but it did nothing. Didn’t so much as scratch him. She watched in shock as he twisted, bending the steel in on itself.