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

by Jami Gray

  Didn’t matter if everyone and their damn mother was after the same person. She’d do what she should’ve done eight years ago. Take care of the situation herself. She was done with Math. Done with Havoc. Done with the whole, hey let’s work together bullshit, because it was a fucking lie. A lie she learned eight years ago, and again today, because she was a glutton for punishment. As evidenced by her crazy ass belief that Math would always have her back, or that Havoc was somehow different from all the rest. That he could accept who she was—all of it—the good and the really shitty parts. That either one wouldn’t leave her ass hanging in the proverbial wind.

  Boy did she get that wrong. Way the fuck wrong.

  Still, she wasn’t a complete idiot. She meant what she said to Math, there was strength in numbers, which was why, despite his threat, she was finishing this and sharing. Even if Math never teamed up with the Vultures and company, it wouldn’t hurt to have three different hunters locked on the same damn target. If she managed to sink her blade in first, all the better. Then she could disappear, become someone else and never have to worry about this kind of shit again.

  It was a good dream, too damn bad her chances of ending this as food for desert scavengers was so damn high.

  She spent her afternoon trolling through the filth that lay under the thin veneer of civilisation. The longer she spent on her quest, the more her surroundings matched her mood. Dark, twisted and odious. Even as she hunted for Felix, she kept her eyes and ears open, catching bits and pieces, each little bit adding to the weight in her gut. Whispers of plots and bargains that made no sense, unless she matched it with what she already knew. Power was shifting, resources were being manipulated, and none of it was good. It made her believe that what was happening with the Cartels and with Istaqa’s people, and even the Vultures, was only the leading edge of the disaster yet to come.

  It wasn’t easy, but she stayed on track, determined to draw Felix out because she was highly aware there was only so much she could do. She moved through each pit where flesh, the younger the better, was nothing more than a commodity and the pursuit for the ultimate high recognised no boundaries. By the time she surfaced, she stared blindly into the setting sun, vaguely wondering if the layer of shit staining her skin would ever disappear. It wasn’t that she didn’t know it existed. Hell, Salt Lake’s underworld was levels above New Seattle’s or Lost Angels’, but it didn’t do a thing to ease her queasy stomach or the relentless throbbing at her temples.

  What hurt worse was knowing there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to save them. For years she tried, starting with her momma, but that didn’t end well. Hell, she even spent the years after her momma died trying to pull people free from the flood of never-ending shit life kept pouring. Some of those jobs didn’t even involve a paycheck. Each time she’d remove one monster, another rose, stronger and more vicious than the last. It was a never-ending cycle, one, she finally realised just before her world imploded, held no apparent escape.

  Like stones tied to her ankles, her inability to save the hollowed eyed children sold so their families could eat or not being able to stop the lost soul looking for escape at the end of a needle or save those she called family, dragged her under the fetid wave. She thought by working with Math to take down the biggest monster of them all, she would find her way to the surface. But now, after crawling through nastiness festering underneath her feet, she wondered if it would be worth it in the end.

  A far away rumble of a bike jerked her head around, hope sparking under her dismal thoughts. As the rumbles faded, so did her short-lived expectation, and the events from earlier came rushing back in, battering her already damaged emotions. ‘Your balance is for shit.’ Havoc’s brutal assessment rang in her ears, and with her anger scoured to a dull ache by the afternoon’s crap, it was easy to admit he nailed it.

  ‘You share who I am and I’ll bury you.’ The vicious claws of Math’s threat flexed deep in her heart, the sting far from easing as it tore through, releasing a wave of frustration and pain. That he would walk away, after everything they survived, hit her with brutal force. Not only did the bonds of loyalty shatter under the hit, it did so with a force that sent her shaky balance into a free fall.

  Reeling, she reached out and grabbed hold of the one solid anchor left, her tarnished honour. She hung over an endless pit, watching her world fall away, as Havoc’s words battered at her. ‘You better figure out how to land on your feet because right now, you’ve got no-one there to catch you.’ And wasn’t that the God’s honest truth? If she let go, she’d disappear, and no-one would miss her. But for a brief moment she thought maybe one person would, say the protective brute who refused to leave her side, until he walked away.

  But not without giving you a choice, idiot. Either find your balance and take a chance he’ll catch you, or be stubborn and plummet into the bottomless pit. What’s it going to be?

  Furious determination rose through her, searing away guilt, and hardening her resolve. One way or the other, she’d finish what she started, despite Math’s tight-lipped arrogance or Havoc’s contempt. Math could go fuck himself. As for Havoc, well, either he’d be there or he wouldn’t, but she was tired of trying to walk the damn line. It was time for her to find a little faith in the heart of the man she’d chosen. Any doubts she had about sharing with him fell away, replaced by a grim resolution to bring an end to at least one of her nightmares, regardless of the cost.

  Decision made, she moved to her bike and kicked it to life, determined to check out one last spot before hauling her tired ass back to the Royale and hopefully, Havoc.

  * * *

  Mercy pulled into a narrow alley between a tattoo parlour and a bar, and left her bike under a rusted metal roof of a lean-to filled with dilapidated boxes and cobwebs. Since it shared a wall with the tattoo parlour, she figured anyone looking would assume it belonged to someone inside and leave it alone. She gave serious consideration to hitting the bar next door because a damn drink might wash away the bitter taste in her mouth. Instead, she turned away and began heading down the street, her intended destination a transportation office serving as a front to one of the larger gangs in the city.

  Even though she’d come to a decision, the day’s emotional roller coaster was taking its toll, leaving her distracted. Not a good thing considering where she was headed. It didn’t help that as she moved down the street, the feeling of being watched came back with a vengeance. As carefully as she could, she tried to pinpoint her watcher, but couldn’t get a lock on them. In fact, she was so caught up in trying to find them that someone else found her first. A couple of someone’s actually.

  They were waiting as she passed another one of the narrow spaces between buildings. They hit her from behind, dragging her backwards with a cruel grip on her hair and a meaty hand covering her mouth. Off balance, she used one hand to fumble for her blade, mentally cursing the fact she hadn’t drawn it earlier. With her other she scored her nails over the hand at her mouth, feeling the flesh tear even as a heavily accented, vicious curse erupted. The hand in her hair gave another brutal jerk, and she lost her footing. Twisting, she used her fall’s momentum to tear free of her assailant, and stumble back, barely managing to stay on her feet. Before she could do more than suck in a breath, an agonising blow came from behind, low and near her kidney. The sucker punch sent pain ricocheting through her nerve endings.

  Pitiless training kicked in honed responses, locking the physical pain away and sharpening her instincts. She dodged an incoming fist, barely yanking her face out of the way. It skimmed a hot, stinging line across her cheek. Twisting out of range, she found her blade and whipped it free. Coming back around, she wasted no time sinking it deep into the gut of the one who sucker punched her. As he bent forward, she ignored his hands clamping around her wrist, and used her other hand to grab his greasy hair. Then with a grunt she pulled him forward, twisting to shove his bulk between her and the second attacker. It bought her a second, maybe two. Fire gnawed alo
ng her side, but she ignored it, brought her knee up, and reintroduced his balls to his throat. Unsurprisingly, his hands fell away from her wrist. Releasing her grip on his hair, she yanked her blade free and followed up the knee with a brutal kick to the fatal wound.

  His guttural scream blended with more curses as he slammed back into the other man as she stumbled back against the brick wall. The man she gutted, dropped to his knees, one hand at his groin, the other at his stomach, his furious gaze locked on her. ‘Pinche puta.’

  Ignoring him, she kept her attention on his partner, who stepped around him. She shifted the hold on her blade, when the brush of a boot against the pavement sounded to her left. She dared a glance and stilled. Guess her plan worked—kind of.

  ‘And here I thought you were looking for a meet, chica.’ On a swagger, Felix moved deeper into the alley. His gaze went to the two men, his lips curling under his trimmed moustache as he gave the evil eye to the one on his knees. ‘Get up, pendejo.’ He didn’t wait to see if he followed orders, but turned back to Mercy, stopping just out of reach.

  Since dying wasn’t on her to-do list, she didn’t take him up on his silent, but taunting offer. The minute she made a move, he’d gut her, which would fuck over her plan.

  He stood, legs braced apart, arms folded over his barrel chest, as he ran his smarmy gaze over her. ‘Wasn’t expecting you to make this so easy.’

  With her temper on ice and the bruising ache of the kidney punch shoved in a corner, she managed a cold, little smile in return. ‘I live to disappoint.’

  He matched her smile with one of his own, except with more maliciousness. He spread his arms wide. ‘Really? Then do your worst, avecita.’

  Hearing the term for little bird, she failed to hide her shock. What the hell?

  He dropped his arms and bared his teeth. ‘That’s right, I know your little secret.’ The vicious light in his eyes brightened. ‘I know exactly who you are.’

  Faint though it was, she hoped he was bluffing. Please God, let him be bluffing.

  But, apparently, no-one was listening, because he kept going and lightning didn’t strike. ‘In fact, as soon as I found out, you went from being a pain in my ass and easy scapegoat to the best bargaining chip a man could ask for.’

  As he spoke, her priorities changed, shifting from playing bait to becoming bait. It sucked, but there was nothing for it now. Unfortunately, it also meant no showing for Havoc. A wrenching regret joined the bitter bite of anxiety, but she buried both, and kept her voice flat and unimpressed. ‘I wasn’t thrilled with being your scapegoat, not sure I’m feeling any different about being a bargaining chip.’

  He shrugged his thick shoulders. ‘You don’t matter. But the cabron I work with, does.’

  Ruthless practicality snapped into place at the sneered reference to his possible partner. Her mind spun through her options, none of them ideal, most of them piss poor, before locking onto the only one left. To get a shot at her intended target, she’d have to play along. For now.

  But Felix wasn’t done stroking his ego. ‘You know the nice thing with bargaining chips? They don’t have to be in the best shape to work.’ He kept his beady little eyes on her. ‘So your choice on how this plays out.’

  With no back up imminent she knew damn good and well that getting through the next handful of hours would test the limits of her abilities. That realisation didn’t dull her desire to see this through to the bitter, probably lethal end. It also meant she couldn’t appear to give in too easily. She flashed a taunting smile and braced. ‘Vete a la verga culero.’

  Her Spanish was spot on, sweeping his amusement away and replacing it with vindictive satisfaction. ‘It’s not me who’s fucked, puta.’ He barked a sharp order to his last standing sidekick and they closed in.

  She put up a respectable fight. Even threw away her blade. But in the end, she hit the ground bruised and bleeding. She lay there, listening to Felix spit out his orders and watched the fragile dream of possible happiness hit the road without looking back. No surprise there. The dark promise of her future closed in with chilling familiarity. Well, at least she’d get a chance to fulfil one wish before she died.

  When she was yanked from the pavement and hefted with no care over someone’s shoulder, she locked her groan away. As she hung there, ribs screaming, trying to relearn how to breathe, she managed to curl her split lip in a sly smile as Felix took her straight to her target.

  Chapter 21

  Havoc lifted another bottle of brew, this one half empty, from the growing collection lining his table positioned near the bar. He was back at The Last Stand, not because he was looking for Mercy, but because he was looking to find trouble. Specifically the kind of trouble he could get into with his fists. So far, no-one was stepping up. Go fucking figure. Hell, at this rate, he’d happily take on Dog and his boys, but even they were a no show tonight. As he scanned the floor, he caught the speculative gaze of a long legged brunette playing a round of pool. When she knew she had him, she gave him a slow wink and with seductive ease, leaned over the pool table to line up her shot. Her short band of material doubling as a skirt rose dangerously high, helped when she bent one leg up and sent her stick forward into the gathered balls. He heard the cue hit, then she turned and blew him a kiss.

  As tempting as it was to work his anger out in a different kind of exchange, it wouldn’t be tonight. He wasn’t looking for hot and soft, he wanted a hard bite of mind numbing pain. Someone crossed the floor, blocking his view. When that same someone began heading his way, he shifted his attention and blinked. What the fuck was Reaper doing here?

  Dressed to menace, longish black hair pulled back away from sinister features lined with an equally dark beard, the man moved through the crowd. It was only as he got closer, that his resemblance to Reaper disappeared. Despite his height, he didn’t have Reaper’s bulk. Plus he was wearing way too much fucking silver. What was up with that shit? As the stranger kept bearing down, Dog’s earlier description of the man Mercy met rang in his ears. An ugly suspicion seeped through causing Havoc’s hold on his temper to slip while a fierce anticipation rushed in. He set his bottle on the table and pushed back his chair, the legs scraping with a sharp shriek across the floor. He came to his feet, hands curling into fists.

  The stranger came to a stop, riding a wave of pissed off fury. The intensity of it boiling around him. ‘Where the fuck is she?’

  Havoc didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘Thought she was with you.’ Unable to resist his need for a confrontation, he curled his lip in a contemptuous sneer. ‘Since you got her on such a short fucking leash.’

  And that fast he found the trouble he was looking for. The fury surrounding Mercy’s boss went ice-cold. He didn’t even pause before he shot a silver lined fist at Havoc’s jaw. Havoc managed to avoid most of the hit, but caught the edge of it as he lunged forward. Ignoring the sting as skin split under metal, he sank one fist into the stranger’s gut, the other nailing his ribs. The impacts earned him a grunt, but did shit to slow the other man down. In fact, Havoc caught a ringing blow to the side of his head before they crashed back into the table. The combined force of their weight cracking the wood and sending it skittering back into the bar.

  Now that he had an outlet for his rage, Havoc loosened the reins on his control, ignored the sound of breaking wood and sharp screams as patrons scattered, and let fly. The next few minutes passed in a blur of fists, marked by the occasional dull thuds of brutal contact. He managed to land a series of solid blows, taking a few in return, before the deafening bark of a shotgun cut through, pulling them both up short even as they eyed each other.

  ‘Fucking enough!’ The command echoed through the room, the resulting silence broken by heavy breathing.

  When neither Havoc nor the other man broke their staring contest, the barkeep cocked his shotgun.

  That telling noise got their attention. They turned to find the barkeeper giving them the evil eye as he shifted his shotgun to his shoulder.
‘You two want to kill each other, fucking take it outside.’ When they didn’t move, he barked, ‘Now.’

  Havoc straightened slowly, watching as Mercy’s boss did the same. Their gazes locked, chests pumping. Havoc investigated the sting on his cut lip with a tongue, tasting the familiar copper of blood. ‘Outside.’

  Mercy’s boss gave a sharp nod, then ran a set of scraped knuckles through his hair, before turning on his heel and heading for the door.

  Havoc followed. The crowd parted, no-one willing to take on either pissed off male. Mercy’s boss hit the door with the flat of his palm, shoving it back on squealing hinges. Havoc managed to avoid having it slam in his face with the judicious use of a forearm. The stranger stomped down the steps and hit the dirt lot. He didn’t stop, but kept going. Not about to lose his chance at answers, Havoc followed, keeping a sharp eye on their audience in case someone stupid decided to join them. Since everyone kept ducking his gaze, he didn’t think it was going to be a worry.

  The dark haired bastard passed the far edge of the building where the firelight didn’t reach, then stopped. He did a slow turn on his heel and waited for Havoc to join him, folding his arms over his chest. Havoc closed in until only a few feet separated them. Taking in the barely controlled fury of the other man, Havoc felt his rioting emotions settle into an icy detachment.

  It didn’t take long for the arrogant ass to open his mouth. ‘Where the hell is she, Vulture?’