Why the Devil Stalks Death

by L. J. Hayward

  “They’re called tiger cages,” Jack murmured. “They trained soldiers to resist torture in them.”

  “Are they otherwise significant to you?”

  Fuck. Ethan had always been able to read him like a book. “Yeah. I brought Dad here once, after he got sick. I hoped it would help him remember good times. He found the tiger cages and told me that, when I was lost in India, he imagined I was in a cage, being tortured. And he hoped that I was dead instead.”

  Ethan gripped his arm, firm and comforting. “I’m sorry. But I think you’re right. Two will have worked out that area is painful for you. Tell me where it is, and I’ll go alone.”

  You can’t face him alone, Garrote had told him, and now Jack knew she’d been talking about Two, not Ethan. She hadn’t been able to best him, and that meant Ethan wouldn’t have a great chance, either.

  “We go together.”

  Nodding, Ethan didn’t make to move out, though. He just stood there, gazing into Jack’s eyes.

  Feeling a little anxious, Jack asked, “What?”

  “I want you to know, Jack, that I don’t care about whatever happened between you and Adam. I lied to you. I should never have done that. If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here now and Adam wouldn’t be in danger. I’m sorry, Jack.”

  “Me too. About Adam—”

  “I don’t care,” Ethan insisted. “I heard you and him talking. I was there for longer than you thought I was.”

  “Shit.” This wasn’t going to be good. Couldn’t be good.

  Ethan shifted his rifle to the side and then moved Jack’s as well. Stepping closer, he smiled sadly. “I understand, Jack. I do. Considering everything I’ve done to you, it’s reasonable. But I want you to know, before we find Two and possibly not survive, that I . . .” He took a deep breath. “That I . . . Oh, blast it.”

  And he kissed Jack. On the mouth.

  Jack was lucky his Austeyr was on a strap, otherwise it would have hit the cement and announced their presence to all and sundry. Happily, it just banged against his side as shock made him grab at Ethan’s arms for stability. Ethan was kissing him. Firm presses of his lips to Jack’s, making them tingle, making his entire body shake. Then Ethan parted his lips and touched his tongue to Jack’s mouth.

  Christ. Jack’s knees nearly buckled. His arms snapped around Ethan, holding on for dear life as he opened his mouth. Ethan groaned and all but climbed on him, in him. The kiss deepened exponentially, sending a heady rush of heat through Jack’s blood and bones. In amongst it all, his grenade went off, sparking a hotter fire under his ribs. God. Ethan tasted so good. Nothing Jack could particularly name right then, but fuck it was heady and sweet and narcotic all at once. He strived for more of it, stroking his tongue over Ethan’s, making them both shudder, so he did it again and again. Ethan whimpered into his mouth and returned it in kind.

  It had to end, and it did so as it started, with Ethan simply pressing his lips to Jack’s in a series of pulses that echoed through Jack’s body. When he pulled back, both of them were panting. Gazes met and locked.

  “Just so you know,” Ethan whispered. Then he stepped away and righted his rifle. “Shall we get on with this?”

  “Sure.” Jack got a hold on the Austeyr and indicated the direction they needed to go in.

  As Ethan moved out, Jack hesitated. Half wondering if he’d imagined it, he touched his lips. No. They were still warm and sensitive. He licked them and they tasted of Ethan. Before he could blow their approach by yelling wildly, Jack shoved the moment in the filing cabinet, mildly surprised when it went without a fight, then followed the man who’d just kissed him.

  They moved fast but carefully. The ground around the path leading to the tiger cages was open, but there was a fringe of scrub and trees on the seaward side. Ethan kept to the path, hoping to draw Two’s focus, while Jack moved through the scrub and came up on the cages from the other side. Ethan kept pace with Jack’s slower progress, so they reached their destination at the same time.

  The cages were subterranean, and the entrance was sunk into the side of a rise. Cement steps led down to another gated entrance. Jack couldn’t see into the pit from his position, but as they waited, someone coughed. The sound echoed up from the cages, ragged and hoarse.

  Adam.

  “Oh shoot,” a British voice said from concealment. “There goes the surprise.”

  Jack was fond of Ethan’s accent, but he hated how similar Two sounded. He supposed, having grown up together, it was only to be expected. He didn’t have to like it, though.

  “You overestimate yourself, brother,” Ethan replied. “We knew exactly where you were.”

  Jack moved forwards while Ethan spoke, using it to cover him.

  “Hey?” Adam’s voice was rough and dry. “Help!” He barely got any volume on the word.

  “Quiet, lover,” Two said pleasantly.

  “Shut up, Quinn,” Ethan added in a disinterested tone. “I’m not here for you. I’m after him.”

  “But—”

  “Shut up,” both assassins snapped at the same time.

  Two barked a laugh, and Jack got a bearing on his position, somewhere further along the path. Probably just on the other side of the ruins beyond the tiger cages.

  “I’ve missed you, One-three. We used to have some fun times together.”

  “Yes. It was fun when you broke my ribs when I was nine.” Ethan moved slowly in the same direction Jack had pinpointed.

  Chuckling, Two moved positions. “It taught you to watch your six, didn’t it? I made you the man you are, baby brother.”

  “You made me a monster, Two.” Ethan tracked towards Jack’s place, then stopped. Head tilting, he lowered his rifle a fraction and said pointedly, “Jack made me a man.”

  There was a startled exclamation from the cage, Adam likely working out who was here. It was all but drowned out by Two’s heated snarl and the rustle of vegetation as he moved fast through the trees. Jack followed the sound, and Ethan did as well, with the Assassin X. He fired into the trees, closer to Jack’s position than Two’s probable one. Jack froze as bark exploded off a trunk a couple of feet to his right. If he shifted, he could give away his position. And hopefully Ethan’s ruse worked. Two wouldn’t think Ethan would aim so close to Jack.

  “You used to be a better shot.” Two was further away from Jack than the noise had indicated. “Maybe you should be a monster again, instead of letting that brownie corrupt you.”

  Jack bristled. He’d been called that before and it would sting coming from someone other than a psychopath, but he was more incensed about him calling Ethan “corrupted.”

  Ethan swept his rifle back and forth over the trees. “But the way he corrupts me.” His voice was husky. “So much better than anything you ever did to me.”

  “Do you know he’s a cheater?” Two asked. “He fucks other men while you’re at home waiting for him.”

  Fuck! Jack should just learn to keep his mouth shut. Turn the other cheek, take the high road. But no, and now his words were snapping at his arse.

  Ethan didn’t sound upset. “I don’t care about that, because it feels so good when he’s inside me. When he comes and I feel his hot spunk flood my guts.”

  Jack gaped. Ethan could barely say “fuck” without blushing. It seemed to be having an effect on Two, as well. The man vented a few growls as Ethan kept talking.

  “I let him take me from behind so I can’t see him. So I’m vulnerable. I don’t care about my six when he’s pumping into me. All I know is how deep he—”

  Two roared in furious anger and crashed through the trees. The sounds came from different directions. Goddamn it! The man had set up speakers, switching between them to keep them from picking his true location.

  About to warn Ethan, a big body hit Jack from behind. He sprawled face-first into the dirt, losing the Austeyr as Two slammed down on top of him. Fuck! The man was heavy and powerful. Jack pulled out every move he had, but he couldn’t shake the big man.
A long arm locked around his throat and pulled his head back painfully. Spine forced into an arch, Jack struggled for breath against the hard forearm pressing into his throat. Two’s knees were clamped on either side of Jack’s thighs, holding them together so he couldn’t kick or buck.

  Two was silent as he swiftly divested Jack of his weapons. He wasn’t even breathing hard, and he certainly wasn’t losing his cool as Ethan kept up the filthy commentary, unaware of what had happened in the trees.

  “Come on, brownie,” Two whispered in Jack’s ear when he was done. “Let’s go see my dear brother.”

  Dark spots dancing before his eyes, Jack was hauled upright. As Two changed his hold to across Jack’s chest and let him breathe, the sharp point of a knife dug into his side under the edge of his armour.

  “No fancy moves, soldier boy. I bet you’ve seen how fast a person can bleed out through a knifed organ. It’s one of my favourites because from the outside it doesn’t look too bad. They think they’ve got a chance. Let’s go. Easy does it.”

  They came out of the trees at the top of the stairs leading down to the cages. At the high end of the pit, Ethan trained his rifle on them. Two made sure to put Jack between him and the weapon.

  “Shit,” Adam moaned from below.

  Peering into the dark entrance, Jack could just make out a huddled shape on the other side of the gate. He tried to make a patience gesture, but Two pressed harder with the knife, stalling his attempt to reassure Adam.

  “Let him go, Two.” Ethan’s aim didn’t waver. “I’ll go with you if you do.”

  Two laughed, his breath hot on Jack’s neck. “You’ve said that before. Why should I believe you this time?”

  After a tense moment, Ethan let the Assassin X’s barrel drop until the weapon dangled from one hand at his side. “I mean it this time. You killed Nine. I know how serious you are now.”

  “She bit me. She knows I don’t like to be bit.”

  Ethan, framed against the paler sky, set the rifle down and placed his empty hands on the railing around the top of the pit. It showed he held no other weapons and would delay a grab for another one. “She deserved it.”

  Two nodded, the hard plastic of his NV goggles rubbing against Jack’s head. “She did. Like One did.”

  “Just like One did. Leave Jack alone and we’ll go home together.”

  Two hesitated. The knife point pressed in, then relaxed. “You sound honest. All right. We’ll go home together. But to stop you from running off again . . .” He thrust his hand forwards.

  Bright, sharp pain lanced through Jack’s side. He gasped in shock, stunned by the sensation of the blade in his side. It felt both cold and hot, but turned into pure flame when Two twisted it inside him.

  “Jack!”

  Two laughed and pulled the knife out with a flourish, widening the surface wound. Blood soaked Jack’s shirt, and his legs felt weak all of a sudden. A big hand landed on his back and shoved. Jack tumbled down the stairs to the cages. Adam was shouting at him, at Two, at Ethan, his voice a raw counterpart to Ethan’s cold and deadly one, promising Two he would die. Even though the pain of the knife wound was like a flare in the dark, Jack felt every stair on the way down, coming to a stop against the bars of the gate. Overhead, the night was alive with gunfire. In an exchange like this, Two’s lack of skill didn’t matter, so long as he kept the enemy pinned.

  “Jesus, fuck, Jesus,” Adam rasped out. “Nishant? Tell me you’re still with me.”

  Jack groaned and tried to move into a less painful position. “I’m here.”

  “Thank fuck.” Adam reached through the bars to help him. “Where did he get you?”

  “Lower right side, back.”

  “Not good. He probably got your kidney.”

  Jack laughed. Or tried to. It hurt too fucking much. “Nah, I think he missed it.”

  It took Adam a moment, but then he laughed too. A harsh sound, but he clearly remembered when he found the bullet wounds on Jack’s back.

  “Not funny.” Adam sagged against the bars. “What’s going on out there?”

  “Pitched gunfight. They’re fine for a bit. Have you got anything in there with you?”

  “Not much. Shackle on my ankle and a bag of stuff he left in here before.”

  “What’s in the bag?”

  “He told me not to touch it. First rule of being a hostage is to do whatever the crazy guy says, so I haven’t touched it.”

  Jack managed to sit up a bit more. He’d forgotten Adam had been in this situation before, though only for hours, not days. “Pass it out.”

  Adam shoved the backpack out through the bars, and Jack, trying to ignore the pain every time he moved or breathed, rummaged through it. Spare mags for guns that weren’t in the bag, a phone with no battery life, a paper map of the park, a set of NV goggles, and some small canisters with pins in the top. Could be handy.

  “He used one of them last night,” Adam offered. “It’s like a flare or something.”

  Oh yeah. That would be handy.

  The problem was, Jack was in no shape to use them, and they were running out of time. The number of shots was dropping off as the assassins ran low on ammo. In the gaps between, Two was reminiscing about old times, encouraging Ethan to join in.

  “Remember that, One-three? You were only sixteen but drove that car like a pro. We’d never had such a fast exfil.”

  “I remember. You killed that old woman. She wouldn’t have told anyone about us, but you killed her all the same.”

  “It was Ten’s idea.”

  “He’s nearly as sick as you.”

  Two didn’t like that and sent three rapid shots in Ethan’s direction.

  In the pit, Jack tried to get up. Pain whipped through him and he sank back down, his legs shaking.

  “Don’t move,” Adam insisted. “You’ll make the wound worse.”

  “Gotta help Ethan.”

  Adam muttered to himself about stupidity and heroics, then grumbled, “I guess there wasn’t any painkillers in the bag.”

  Which made Jack think about the medic in the tunnel, and the green whistle.

  “Come on, baby brother,” Two yelled, his voice moving around the edge of the pit. “Let’s agree to disagree and just go home. I promise I’ll—”

  Ethan fired out of the dark and Two grunted, stumbling as he moved.

  “You little shit,” Two snarled.

  Another shot and Two ducked, coming into Jack’s view. He had a gun in his right hand, his left pressed to his side. Teeth bared, he panted and scanned the surrounding darkness for Ethan. He ignored the pit, probably thinking Jack was either too weak from blood loss or dead already. With him so close, Jack had to move silently, not that he was up for fast movements, anyway. A millimetre at a time, Jack reached into the inner pocket of his jacket. The green whistle was still tucked in there, thankfully. He pulled it out and sucked on it deeply.

  “Give up,” Ethan said from close by. “You’re wounded. I’m not. Time to end this.”

  Two laughed. “You think a couple of grazes is going to slow me down? You’ve never beaten me. Never.”

  Jack smiled as the strong anaesthetic rushed through his body. The pain subsided and he felt good. A little light-headed but cool. When he moved, the pain spiked, but he sucked on the whistle and it dulled again, leaving a faint prickly sensation in his side. Keeping the whistle in his mouth, Jack crawled to the stairs, one of the grenades in his hand. It seemed to take forever, but that could have been because he felt floaty and tended to bump into the wall a lot. Eventually, though, Jack was at the top of the stairs, lying on his belly to keep a low profile.

  Two had moved while Jack got into place. He was now about a dozen meters away, crouched with his back to the wall of the ruins. As he scanned back and forth, the gleam of his NV goggles caught Jack’s eye. Good. He was wearing them. Bad, because he was further away than Jack would have liked.

  As Jack moved to throw, Ethan fired three shots, two of them spark
ing off the cement by Two’s head. He flinched and looked sharply off to the right, then grinned. In his hand, he flipped a knife, grip to point, point to grip.

  “Last shots,” he called out happily. “I’ve been counting.”

  “And you even kept your shoes on.”

  Jack muffled a snicker in his arm. Ethan was so fucking cute.

  Two didn’t find it as endearing. He sneered. “Just like you, but at least I’m not ashamed of my feet.”

  Okay. That was it. Jack wasn’t putting up with this anymore. He sucked deep on the whistle, and while the anaesthetic rolled through him, he reared up, pulled the pin, and tossed the grenade, shouting, “Ma petite erreur!” and hoped like fuck Ethan got the reference.

  The grenade went off, an intense flare of orange light, right in front of Two. He screamed as his eyes took the brunt of the explosion, scrambling backwards, trying to claw the goggles off his head at the same time.

  Ethan moved through the shifting light of the burning grenade, his steps certain as Two tripped over the uneven ruins. Two could barely see, but Ethan, who’d been blind for some of his formative years, kept his eyes closed as they clashed.

  Jack couldn’t watch much of the fight as the bright light bit far too hard into his watering eyes. He was blinking away the glare and tears when it happened. Two staggered as he tried to turn, and Ethan, hearing the crunch of boot on dirt, moved lightning fast and Two impaled himself on Ethan’s knife. Before his “brother” could move, Ethan took the blade from Two’s own hand and rammed it through his throat.

  Once more, rage drove Jack to Adam. He couldn’t believe Ethan had done this to him again. Kept big fucking secrets and then watched Jack scrabble for the pitifully few clues he allowed. Then to just let him walk out! To hear him say he wouldn’t be back and do absolutely nothing.

  He left the bike in an illegal park and stalked into the Oaks. The concierge had seen him come and go enough lately that he didn’t blink as Jack shoved through the door to the stairwell. Blinded by his anger, Jack barely got out of the way of the guy coming down the stairs. They passed on the landing between floors.