Beg For Mercy (Fate's Vultures, #2)

by Jami Gray

  Vex’s smile was more a baring of teeth, but it was Havoc who answered. ‘What do you think?’

  What did she think? If they were right on who might be playing partner in crime and pulling the strings on puppets like Reznik and Felix, nope, there wasn’t a chance in hell they had proof. Michael was legendary at covering his ass. Something she knew well, since witnessing his cover up skills first hand. But, holy hell, if they were right, the key to settling a long overdue debt was well within her reach. Too damn bad her hands were freakin’ tied.

  Except she couldn’t help but notice that Istaqa and the Vultures were more worried about protecting their people versus revenge or how much power they could acquire. Which left her facing a difficult decision. Once upon a time, she chose a life based upon that same sense of protective justice, until time and circumstances twisted it into unrecognisable knots. Now here was a chance to not only get her vengeance, but reclaim some of her tarnished honour. At what price? Yeah, that was the kicker, but … She licked her lips and met Istaqa’s gaze. She opened her mouth, but before she could say a word, the guard from earlier re-entered, and he wasn’t alone.

  Istaqa rose to his feet with a fluid grace and made his way across the room until he was standing in front of his man. He stared down at the man hanging between two other stern faced men. ‘I see you brought me back something, Daniel.’

  Mercy turned to watch the unfolding drama and felt Havoc and Vex move up beside her.

  Daniel gave his leader a grim smile, the move causing the cut on his lip to re-open. His gaze touched on her before going back to his leader. ‘We found explosives where she indicated and I’ve got teams working on disarming them as we speak.’ He motioned to the man hanging between the two other guards. ‘We caught this bastard and three of his friends setting the last one in place.’

  Istaqa closed in on the man barely staying upright and yanked his head back with a cruel grip in his hair. The captive groaned and tried to focus through swollen eyes. Istaqa studied the bruised and battered face, then turned towards Mercy, angling the captive’s head so she could see his face. ‘Do you recognise him?’

  She studied the beaten features, running them through her mental album, before shaking her head. Nothing about him scratched her memory.

  Istaqa’s mouth thinned as he ripped his hand free and then turned to his guard. ‘The other three?’

  ‘Dead.’

  ‘Shame,’ murmured Istaqa with an obvious lack of sincerity. ‘At least this one is breathing. Take him to interrogation.’

  Daniel gave a sharp nod before issuing a few short orders. The other two guards took the captive away. Daniel stayed behind, eyeing Mercy with speculation, but remained silent. Normally, she wouldn’t hesitate to call him out on that kind of attention, but not this time. She was on overload trying to process all the Vultures and Istaqa had thrown at her.

  Istaqa turned away, dismissing her to speak directly to Havoc. ‘She’s your responsibility. I’m going to have a chat with our latest guest. We’ll finish this when I’m done.’ Then he turned to Vex. ‘In light of our new relationship, would you like to join me, Vex?’

  Vex smiled with predatory eagerness and flowed to her feet. ‘Aww, I love a man who knows how to show a girl a good time.’ She joined him and they began to leave.

  ‘Istaqa.’ Mercy’s voice stopped them and Istaqa looked back. She stepped forward, only to be brought up short by Havoc’s hand on her shoulder. Wrenching out of his grip with a low frustrated hiss, she stalked over to Istaqa. ‘You have your proof I wasn’t lying.’ It was stupid to push, but she couldn’t shake the sense she was running against the clock. They may have stopped the dam’s destruction, but it didn’t mean they got everyone involved with setting the explosives. With the way her luck was going, the possibility that a rat was currently scrambling back to Page, eager to report to Felix, was damn high.

  Istaqa’s face hardened, his voice clipped. ‘No, what I have is proof someone is targeting the dam. Before I agree to call Suárez, I want to ensure he’s not the bastard behind this.’

  Impatience and frustration locked her jaw and she gritted out, ‘The longer you take, the more time Felix has to slip away.’

  Istaqa stepped in close, his voice cutting through her with the ease of a well-honed blade. ‘Then you better hope our bomber breaks easy.’ He straightened, then turned, giving her his back and stalked from the room, leaving her wrestling with the urge to scream her frustration at his thick headed, arrogant attitude.

  Vex flashed an evil grin. ‘Don’t worry. I like breaking things.’ She gave them a finger wave, light flashing off the lethal tips, before disappearing after Istaqa.

  * * *

  ‘You going to pout all night?’ Havoc asked the question as he nabbed the bottle of brew and took a long drink.

  Mercy continued to ignore him, her gaze focused on the group playing pool in the far corner of the room. Once Istaqa and Vex left, Havoc had dragged her out of Istaqa’s house, down the canyon and sat her ass at a table in RedRock, the local tavern. An untouched bottle sat sweating on the table in front of her. She could feel the weight of Havoc’s gaze, but she refused to meet it. Right now, thick skulled, arrogant males were on her shit list.

  When he kicked her foot under the table, her gaze snapped to his, her mouth tightening as she bit her tongue to keep from ripping him a new one. Undaunted, he leaned forward, keeping his voice pitched low so it stayed between them. ‘Did you expect it to be that easy?’

  Unable to keep her frustration at bay any longer, she unclenched her teeth and snarled, ‘I expected him to show a bit more intelligence, dammit.’

  His nostrils flared, but his voice didn’t change. ‘Just because you provided good intel, doesn’t negate the fact you’re a fuckin’ unknown.’

  ‘An unknown who just saved his ass,’ she shot back, even as she reluctantly acknowledged his logic.

  ‘An unknown with an unknown agenda working for an unknown boss.’ He tapped his bottle to hers. ‘Not a lot of foundation to build trust on, babe.’ He lifted his bottle to his lips.

  She ignored the internal wince at that well-aimed shot. ‘Some are built on less.’ She dropped her gaze, snatched up her bottle, and took a drink. Yeah, okay, she got it, but it didn’t stop the warning itch digging into the base of her skull.

  Obviously taking pity on her, Havoc shared, ‘Right now, he can’t afford a wrong move.’ He sat his bottle down and leaned back, one hand absently twisting the bottle in tiny circles as he considered her. ‘Solution’s simple.’

  If not for the shit storm barrelling towards them, it would be so easy to get caught up in the chocolate depths of his eyes. At her sappy thought, she shook her head, leaned back and folded her arms over her chest, weariness tugging at her. Rationality nailed her with a cold kick of logic. She knew what he wanted. ‘If it was up to me, I’d share in a heartbeat. Especially if you’re right in your assumptions.’ And God knew she wanted to, so damn bad that she actually considered willfully ignoring the promise she made. Something she never before considered, but now? After trying to stay one step ahead of a danger she couldn’t shake? Yeah, it was damn tempting.

  She rubbed a hand over the dull ache setting up shop at her temples. What she needed was access to a phone. If she could just talk to her boss and catch him up on what was happening here, she might be able to take this whole thing to the next level without breaking her word. But she’d bet every piece of luck that the only phone available was locked up somewhere in Istaqa’s home.

  Havoc watched her through half-lidded eyes. She held his lazy regard with her own, hoping her thoughts were deep enough to escape his detection. His lips twitched. A sharp crack followed by cheers snapped her attention back to the pool game in the corner, just in time to catch a round of high fives being exchanged. When her attention came back to Havoc, he spoke. ‘I have to wonder.’

  When he stopped there, she arched an eyebrow. ‘About?’

  He stretched his legs,
setting his heels on the seat next to her, trapping her. ‘You barely batted an eyelash when we laid everything out for you.’

  When he fell silent, she cocked her head to the side, uncertain where he was going with this. ‘Wasn’t hard to follow the lines you all drew.’ She lifted her bottle and took another drink, enjoying the bite of bitterness.

  Havoc waited until she had a mouthful before asking with deceptive casualness, ‘You working for Michael?’

  His question left her choking as her drink went down the wrong way. It burned through her nose and left her eyes watering. When she got herself back under control, she rasped, ‘Hell, no. I’d rather leave the bastard gutted in a ditch than work with him.’ As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to curse at what they revealed, but she refused to call them back. She didn’t mind lying to get a job done, but Havoc wasn’t a job and lying to him just felt wrong. Keeping things from him, on the other hand, she could justify, for now.

  Interest lit his eyes, but it was the only change she caught in his relaxed position. ‘Sounds like a story there. Going to share?’

  Now he wanted to bond? Deciding he wasn’t the only one who could dig up the past, she took her turn at the shovel. ‘Sure, if you share yours.’

  A muscle twitched along his jaw. ‘I’m not the one who needs to shore up their foundation.’

  ‘Don’t you?’ she murmured, unable to resist needling him. No need to let him know that, despite their brief time together, she did trust him, a strange, and utterly unique experience. One she had no way to rationalise. Oh, she didn’t expect him to lay his life down for her, but if he said he’d help her, he would. Just like he had so far. Still, years of hard earned experience made it difficult to admit.

  ‘I saved your curvy ass, even brought you to Istaqa.’ The smile curving his lips set her pulse pounding. It paired with his heated gaze to create a carnal promise mixed with a dangerous dare. ‘You don’t strike me as a woman who would let a man touch her the way you let me touch you last night, not unless she trusted him at some level. So I’d say my foundation is pretty damn solid right now.’ The evil, evil man didn’t cut her any slack. ‘Wouldn’t you agree?’

  Her body answered before she could find her voice, a rushing tide of lust that left her hot and achy. ‘Maybe.’ Her hand tightened on her bottle as her tongue swept over her bottom lip. Despite the heat rising under her skin, she refused to back down. ‘Doesn’t mean it will survive when the storm hits.’

  He threw back his head and laughed, an honest to God laugh. It transformed his face, turning all the hard edges into something mesmerising. Caught in the wonder of it, she startled when he straightened, leaned forward and wrapped a hand around her neck and hauled her forward. The table’s edge pressed under her breasts, but the discomfort disappeared as his lips closed over hers, his tongue sweeping in to tangle with hers in an unhurried rush.

  He kissed her as if he had all the time in the world. She couldn’t resist the seductive dance and joined in, taking his intoxicating flavour deep. The tart bite of the brew added a cool edge to his dark taste. Her mind tumbled trying to place the elusive combination, a mix of heat and spice as it raced through her veins, sparking a voracious hunger. When he delicately bit down on her lower lip, a soft moan escaped. Then she returned the favour, soothing his abused lip with a soft swipe of her tongue. She traced his lower lip lazily before he reclaimed control of the kiss.

  He drew back slowly without letting go of her neck and stared into her eyes. ‘That storm?’

  ‘Yeah.’ It came out in a husky whisper. Still reeling from his kiss, she sucked in air and pulled back. He reluctantly let her go, and they settled into their seats, neither one looking away.

  Red rode under his skin, and she was pretty sure the same colour filled her face. Quiet fell between them, neither one in a hurry to break it. When he finally spoke, there was a seriousness to his voice, an indicator he was done dancing around the question. ‘Why such a hard-on for Michael, Mercy?’

  Chapter 9

  It took everything Havoc had not to drag Mercy out of the tavern and explore the fierce storm of lust brewing between them. Especially when he could see the same need reflected in the emerald shine of her eyes. But despite evidence to the contrary, he wasn’t some horny ass teen whose dick reigned supreme. Nope, he was a horny ass man who could keep it in check until he got some answers. Then his dick could reign supreme.

  Those heavy lashes dropped severing the humming thread of awareness with a definitive snap. He resisted the urge to rub his chest at the strange sensation. Her kiss-swollen lips took on a sardonic curve. She deliberately lifted her bottle and took a drink. When she set it down, she met his gaze. Cool calculation replaced heated need. ‘Why do you have such a hard-on for the Cartels?’

  It was probably twisted, but her repetitive evasive manoeuvres amused him. Anyone else who played this cat and mouse game with him would find themselves on the wrong end of his knife. But with her, he found it … fun. The shock of that made his response short. ‘They stole something precious, something I can’t replace.’

  She blinked, obviously not expecting such honesty. Instead of pushing for more, she gave back the same unflinching truth. ‘He destroyed my world, and I intend to return the favour.’

  Instinct warned if he pushed her, she’d push back, and he wasn’t up to that level of sharing. Yet. ‘Lofty goal.’

  Her veiled flash of disappointment left him reconsidering, but before he shoved his foot in his mouth she murmured, ‘I believe if you’re going after someone or something, may as well go balls to the wall.’

  He chuckled at her wry statement. ‘Good motto to have, darlin’.’ Studying her profile he took in the fine lines around her eyes and mouth as her attention went back to the action happening at the pool table. If not for the fact he could tell she was tracking their movements, he’d think she had fallen into a stupor of exhaustion. Running your ass ragged would do that to you. He’d been in her shoes a time or two. Since they were basically waiting for Istaqa and Vex to finish up their Q&A session, might as well take advantage of the downtime. Lord knew, it wouldn’t last. Keeping a grip on his bottle, he dropped his feet, and pushed up from the table.

  She looked up, her eyebrows quirked. ‘We leaving?’

  ‘Nope.’ He held out his hand. ‘Let’s shoot some pool.’

  Unfolding from her seat, she grabbed her drink, and took his hand. ‘Lead on.’

  He tangled their fingers together and led the way to the table in the corner. The previous players were notching their sticks in the rack. He and Mercy waited to the side, exchanging polite head nods as they cleared out. He set his bottle on the small wall shelf, then did the same for her. After choosing their sticks, they used Rock-Paper-Scissors method to determine who’d go first. Grinning when his paper covered her rock, he set the table and lined up his break. A sharp crack and the balls scattered, the cue ball chasing the solid green to the left corner pocket. The green ball dropped leaving the cue ball alone on the table. He adjusted his position, then bounced the cue ball off a side rail and sent the red into the middle pocket before missing his chance to drop the orange ball.

  Mercy took her time studying the table. Stick in hand, he leaned his shoulder against the wall and studied her. She glided around the table’s edges, picked her spot, and lined up. Seeing her intent, he shook his head. Damn difficult shot. Her stick made contact and the cue ball kissed the rail and then pocketed her target.

  ‘Nice shot,’ he murmured.

  Her lips curved and she began stalking her next move. One game turned into two, then three. After the last ball dropped, they docked their sticks. Their earlier tension replaced by a mellow mood. Next to him, Mercy laced her fingers, stretched her arms over her head, and arched her spine. The move pushed her lush breasts up, the damn t-shirt not doing much other than making him drool. He jerked his gaze away from the mouth-watering temptation and looked around. He was surprised to see only a handful of patrons l
eft. ‘You’re a bad influence, woman.’

  She dropped her arms and shook out her hands. ‘Hey, I didn’t hustle you, and I so could have, you know.’

  Yeah, he figured out she was a damn pool shark early in the second game. ‘Talking about the time. It’s late, we need to head back.’

  She sighed but followed him out of RedRock and into the quiet night. Lights from the few spots still showing life offered some illumination, but the desert night pooled in between. They headed back to Istaqa’s, both content to let the night fill the air between them. When she cocked her head for the second time, he slowed and kept his voice low. ‘What?’

  She shook her head, and as they passed through spilling light from a window, he caught the rising tension tightening her face. ‘Maybe nothing.’

  Her sense of ‘nothing’ seeped into him, growing with each step they took until the skin on his neck threatened to crawl away. He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her close, an instinctive move, one he knew damn good and well she wouldn’t appreciate. Unfortunately, instincts never heeded logic. She gave him a puzzled glance he ignored. His gut clenched as he caught the shift of shadows underfoot as someone behind them crossed the lighted path. ‘We’re being followed.’

  Her initial stiffness faded and she curved into his hold. ‘More than one, I think.’

  They kept their unhurried pace. He rubbed his chin over the top of her head, using the motion to check their back trail. Sure enough, he caught a stutter in the shadow behind them. ‘Got one.’

  Where there was one, there would be more. Considering what little he knew of her, there was no doubt Mercy could hold her own against a threat like this. Unlike the last woman to crawl under his skin, Mercy didn’t need him to stand between her and the incoming threat. With a firm, logical foot crushing the neck of his protective instinct, he scanned ahead, looking for options. They were coming up on the deserted section of the market place. Stalls and haphazard shelters of canvas and other scavenged materials reigned, the lack of light turning the benign area treacherous. It was also their best shot at addressing the threat. First, they needed to confirm how many were on their ass. Then they could get down to the why.