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

by Jami Gray

  Luckily the shaft was guarded by only one of the old doors, the other long since gone. Bracing a hand against the wall because he didn’t trust the strength of the remaining door, he stuck his head inside to check out what he was working with. The nose curling stench of stagnant salt water hit him, making his eyes water. Not surprising, like most buildings around here, this one had a basement, and it was flooded. Thanks to the hole in the roof, sunlight danced across the dark surface illuminating the murky pool lapping around the crumpled remains of the rusted out cage of the elevator car. But it was what lay just above it that made him smile. The shadowed opening to the first floor.

  Fucking finally, a piece of good news. He found his access to the main floor. Curious, he leaned a little further in, ignoring the wind that pulled strands of his hair free, whipping them about his face and stared down. From what he could see, it looked as if there were no doors blocking the entrance, so it should be a fairly simple shot. He just had to get to it.

  He eyed the rickety pipes lining the shaft. Yep, those were out. No way in hell were they in any shape to hold his weight. The shaft was too wide to consider using his legs and arms to inch down. He crouched down, trying to guesstimate the distance between the floors. Twelve, maybe fourteen feet? Damn, that was a hell of a drop. Without knowing who or what he faced once he cleared the shaft, he couldn’t swing in and drop in feet first. If anyone was there, armed or not, they’d have a clear shot at him. Hell, one good shove and he’d have a straight shot into the pit. His best bet was to stay to the side and drop below the opening so he could go in low.

  From his position he surveyed the shaft again, this time noting the shallow hollows lining the deteriorating walls. Yeah, depending on crumbling cement for finger and toe holds was guaranteed to shrivel his balls, but it didn’t outweigh his worry at leaving Mercy in Felix’s not so tender care.

  Anchoring his hand on the wall’s edge, he leaned over, breath held, until he could reach the closest one. He slid his fingers into the narrow holds and jerked down testing to see if pressure would send a shower of cement into the watery pit below. When the cement held, he shoved his head and shoulders inside and began mapping out his path. He made quick work of marking where each hand and foot would have to go to make his way down. There were a few tricky spots, but he was confident in his ability to make it.

  Decision made, he got his boots off, then his socks. No way the thick toe of his boots would fit in those cracks. The howling wind would cover most of the noise from his descent, and if it didn’t, he could only hope that no-one came to investigate. He used his socks to loop his boots to his belt since there was no way he was traipsing around here barefoot. With nothing left, he leaned in, reached up and found his first two holds. With a deep breath he slowly swung into the shaft.

  He was about half way down when the wind died down to a soft moan and he caught the sound of voices. Muffled, but there, coming from the main floor. He held his position, the seconds ticking by, but he didn’t dare move without the cover of the wind. As he clung to the wall, the burn in his muscles turned into an agonising ache.

  He tried concentrating on the voices in an effort to block the rising burn of muscles, but couldn’t make out the words. From the pitches, he was guessing two voices? Maybe three, but he couldn’t be sure. Then the cement under his right toes began to give, drifting away in a shower of dust. If he didn’t move soon, he’d find his ass free falling into the murky pit below. With as much care as possible, he shifted his weight, and his foot slipped, the rough surface scraping skin from his toes. Sweat rode his spine in a clammy line as he bit back his curse. His muscles screamed at the additional torque, but he managed to reposition his foot just below the crumbling niche.

  He rested his sweat-soaked forehead against the rough wall, muscles shaking, as he debated the risk of moving. Just when he was about to say the hell with it, the wind finally decided to get back into the game. He eased down another foot or so and was getting ready to make the last move that would put him just below the door’s edge, when the muffled cough of a silenced gun echoed, startling a couple of nesting birds. They tore their way out of the shaft as a bone-curdling scream chased their tail feathers. Fuck! Mercy! His heart froze but his body moved on instinct, scrambling the last bit and lunging for the dubious opening.

  Chapter 26

  Mercy flinched at Felix’s pained scream as he hit the ground and clutched at the bloody hole now perforating his thigh. Oh, shit. That’s going to hurt.

  Behind Felix’s rocking body the guard held his position but his lip curled in disgust. The woman crouched down and pressed the barrel to Felix’s forehead. ‘Shut the fuck up.’

  Felix’s pained screams gurgled to harsh gasps.

  ‘You better start praying to your Virgin Mary that the Vulture shows up for his bitch or the next bullet ends up in your skull. Comprende?’ After getting Felix’s panicked nod, she rose and turned away, dismissing the wounded man. As she walked across the floor, she slipped her gun back into its holster. She stopped in front of Mercy and dropped into a crouch, wrists on her knees, hands hanging down, their eyes level. ‘Do you know who I am?’

  Stuck between her motionless guards, Mercy held her pitiless gaze with stony deliberation. ‘Should I?’

  The woman cocked her head. ‘The name Greer ring a bell?’

  Recognition struck with poisonous fangs. Michael’s right hand bitch. The same one who led Michael’s forces the night the Strix were killed. Terrifying fury surged through Mercy, coiling her muscles and burning away caution. She jerked against the unforgiving hold of her captors before she could stop it.

  ‘Ah, I see it does.’ Cruel delight lit Greer’s cold eyes as she deliberately patted Mercy’s bruised cheek.

  Movement from the side as one of the guards came to a halt, drew both Mercy and Greer’s attention. ‘Sir, everything’s in place.’

  ‘Good.’ Greer put her hands to her knees and pushed upright. ‘Wrap the bitch up, and don’t forget to gag her. Time to see what our little bait will nab us.’

  Mercy’s two guards yanked her to her feet, the sudden movement causing black dots to break over her vision and the banked agony in her feet to reignite. They quickly shifted positions, one keeping her hands locked high and tight, the other using the grip on her hair to hold her head back as one hard hand drilled down on the pressure points on her jaw, forcing her mouth to open wide enough to shove a cloth in. She managed a couple of solid kicks but battered bare feet didn’t amount to jack. They slammed her back into the unforgiving pillar, the bruising impact generating a muffled groan. In seconds she was gagged and bound, and not for anything remotely fun. When they stepped back, she looked up to find Greer watching the entire thing go down with a tiny superior smile. Bitch!

  As if reading her mind, Greer’s smile widened.

  The guard next to her dug into his pocket and handed over a small black object. ‘Timer’s set at thirty, press when ready.’ Greer took it with a sharp nod.

  What the fuck? Was that—oh my God, it’s a fucking detonator. Ice filled Mercy’s veins and a cold, sickening sweat broke over her. The crazy ass bitch had the place rigged to blow. With a tinge of hysteria Mercy thanked all that was holy that neither Havoc nor Math was riding to her rescue, since she wasn’t sure she could survive the guilt that would come with their deaths. Of course with the way things were looking she wouldn’t have to worry about living with anything much longer.

  ‘Sir, what about this one?’ The question came from the guard standing over a softly moaning Felix, and snapped Mercy out of her whirling thoughts.

  Greer turned, eyed her former partner with a dispassionate coldness. ‘Dump his ass down the shaft.’

  The guard went to grab Felix only to discover that the wounded man had other ideas. In an impressive display of speed, Felix nailed the guard’s balls with a wicked kick of his uninjured leg. Off balance and probably trying to relearn to breathe, the guard doubled up, which put his face in Felix’s
reach. Felix wrapped his thick hands around the guard’s skull. The guard’s shriek as Felix drove his thumbs into the guard’s eye sockets made Mercy flinch.

  ‘Shoot him!’ Greer’s order was drowned out by Felix’s enraged roar as he twisted, using his hold on the guard’s skull and flipped the guard until his body was between Felix and the incoming bullets.

  Mercy had to admit it was a brilliant move, especially coming from Felix. She didn’t have time to admire it because while the guard’s body danced under the lead rain, her guards left her to get in on the action. Taking advantage of the unexpected distraction she started testing her bindings when a movement at the back of the edges of the room caught her attention. As Greer and her men stayed focused on Felix, Mercy turned her head towards the back of the room. The last man she ever expected to see poofed into existence directly behind the guard at the far end and her pulse began to pound. Holy shit was that? Yep, that was Havoc.

  A buoying mix of terrified joy and anxious relief left her muscles the consistency of jelly, even as she watched him wrap a hand around the guard’s mouth, yank his head back, and shove a blade into the base of his skull. The guard jerked, then went limp. Havoc wasted no time dragging the corpse back into shadowed depths of the hall.

  Havoc’s entire show took mere seconds and she was trying to process what his appearance meant, when her brain kicked back in. Havoc was here and Greer had the fucking place wired to blow. Clamping down on the panic threatening to turn into a screaming mess, she jerked her head away from him so not to give away his presence. Thankfully the guards were still rushing Felix, Greer in the midst and not one of them was paying Mercy any attention, thank Christ. From the corner of her eye she tracked Havoc’s progress as he inched closer, sticking to shadows and the dubious cover of half standing walls.

  In front of her, Felix was pinned behind a wall, now armed with his former human shield’s gun and returning fire. Unfortunately, his aim was for shit. Then even that didn’t matter because his gun clicked empty. The deafening blasts of gunfire faded away, leaving her ears ringing and her nose stuffed with burnt cordite, but under her feet the floor vibrated. Her heart rate kicked up as she lost sight of Havoc when he dove behind what must have once been a planter. The reason why soon became apparent when three more of Greer’s goon squad ran passed her. Probably coming from the stairwell over by the front door.

  She spared a rushed prayer of thanks they didn’t come from the same direction where Havoc was hiding because that would suck. With Greer distracted and Havoc nearby, it was time to get her ass moving. She tested the ropes and found her two bookends knew their shit, because her arms weren’t going anywhere. The best she could do was slide around the pillar like some warped May Pole. Gritting her teeth, she shuffled her abused feet and wrenched her arms, feeling the pillar’s cracked surface scraping her back. Maybe she could find a jagged edge on the pillar to saw the rope. She needed to get free and warn Havoc about the timer.

  She started to move again, only to freeze as a warm hand squeezed her arm. Havoc. Then the rope went taunt as a cool kiss of metal brushed her skin. Tears of relief pressed for freedom, but she locked them down. With the gag stuffed in her dry mouth, the last thing she wanted was to choke to death on her own snot.

  Seconds ticked by as he worked the thick rope. Dammit, hurry up, Havoc! Because at any minute Greer could turn and then they’d be screwed. Frustration rose, settling in with grim determination. Before it could get a crushing hold, the bark of a rifle echoed through the room and one of Greer’s men hit the floor, sporting a neat hole in his forehead.

  ‘Cover!’ Greer dove behind the collapsed remains of a pillar, her men scattering for whatever dubious protection they could find. Another rifle report and another guard dropped. That fast Greer went from seven men to four.

  Mercy did a quick assessment of the dead guards’ positions and gauged the angles of the kill shots. She didn’t dare turn her head towards where she thought the shooter was (up and to the left behind her) because from her trussed up position, she clocked the moment Greer sighted Havoc. And Mercy didn’t need to be a mind reader to guess how Greer would play this fucked up scenario. Mercy yanked against the fraying bonds, feeling them snap just as Greer lifted her gun and took aim.

  The malicious delight in Greer’s face seared itself into Mercy’s mind as she dove for Havoc, her scream of warning muffled by the damn gag. Her move had nothing to do with survival and everything to do with her bruised heart. No way could she watch the man she loved be gunned down. She barrelled into Havoc, knocking him back. A gun fired. A whip of agonising pain sliced across her back as Havoc’s arms came around her as he tried to pull her with him. Another shot sounded and something tore along her hip. Then the world spun as Havoc rolled her back behind the protection of the planter.

  He crouched above her, keeping his head down as Greer barked out an order. Mercy’s fingers dug into Havoc’s shoulders as someone moved. There was a deep cough of a rifle followed by the sound of a body hitting the floor and Greer’s curse.

  Above her, Havoc flashed a fierce grin and lifted just enough to peek over the edge. Okay, guess Greer was down to three men. When Math’s familiar growl rolled through the air, Mercy’s eyes widened. ‘Anyone else want a try?’

  Mercy began clawing at her gag while Greer’s dark chuckle filtered through the room. ‘Is this the part where we negotiate?’

  ‘Is that what you call this?’ When Math’s voice drifted down from a different direction, Mercy knew he was on the move.

  She kept at the gag. Her nails tearing before she finally managed to rip it free, taking some of the skin from her lips with it. Spit was a distant dream and her mouth was bone dry but she managed a whispered croak, ‘Bomb!’ But Havoc was too busy watching the show to hear, so she reached up, absently noting her hands were shaking, and cupped his face. His attention came to her and her back seized as she lifted her head, but she gritted out again, ‘Bomb! Greer has timer.’

  So focused on warning Havoc, Mercy missed whatever Greer said but caught Math’s harsh, ‘Bullshit.’

  Havoc’s face darkened, but he didn’t waste time warning Math. ‘She’s not lying! Place is wired to blow.’

  Okay, guess that was the part Mercy missed. Needing to see what was happening, she shifted to her stomach under Havoc, stifling her groan as her body protested. She got to her elbows, each movement causing her back to violently protest. She breathed through the nerve shredding pain and inched so she could peer around the end of the planter.

  Greer was still hunkered down behind the other planter with one of her guards. The other guard was trying to take cover behind an overturned desk. ‘Since I’m not keen on dying today,’ Greer called out, ‘let’s deal. You let me walk away with my men, I don’t blow your asses sky high.’

  ‘Got a better deal,’ Math shot back, his voice hard. ‘You let the man and woman walk, I make your death quick.’

  Mercy’s breath stalled as she saw Greer palm the timer. Shit! Shit! Shit! This wasn’t going to end well.

  Sure enough, Greer drawled, ‘Yeah, no.’ Then shot to her feet, firing at Mercy and Havoc as her guards did the same, except they aimed high for Math. Bullets hit the brick planter, creating stone shrapnel that kept Havoc and Mercy pinned. Mercy made out the rough bark of Math’s rifle and couldn’t help her vicious satisfaction when he successfully winged Greer. Unfortunately, the bullet’s strike knocked the timer from her hand. With a snarl, she brought a booted heel down on the timer, smashing it to pieces before she and her two men crashed through the entrance and disappeared.

  Mercy tried to lurch to her feet, but her body failed to respond. Then Havoc was there, lifting her up. ‘How long?’

  ‘Thirty seconds.’ It came out in a wheezing gasp as he tossed her over his shoulder. He wrapped one arm around her thighs, being careful to avoid the bleeding wound, and headed for the door. She braced her hands on his back and managed a hoarse yell. ‘Math, get out!’ God, she hope he heard
her.

  Havoc gave her ass a sharp smack. ‘Settle. He’ll be fine.’

  Her arms gave out and she dropped her head as he cleared the door. With nothing to do but hold on and pray, she pressed her face into his back and gripped the waistband of his pants. He picked up speed, each pounding step sending his shoulder slamming into her already sore diaphragm. Salt tinged air hit her nose and she lifted her face as a gust of wind swept over them, tangling her hair over her face. She shoved her hair out of the way and noticed someone limping behind them. ‘Havoc, behind you!’

  She felt him twist his torso without slowing down. ‘Fuck me, it’s Felix.’

  She didn’t get a chance to respond because a muffled boom sounded, and Havoc quickly changed direction, tearing her from his shoulder to cradle her against his chest. A series of progressively louder booms quickly followed. There was a breathless moment of silence as Havoc slid behind an ancient satellite dish, then the Railway building exploded.

  Chapter 27

  Heart pounding, Havoc curled over Mercy as the concussion cloud threw dust, grit and debris against the satellite dish. The force of the blast shifted the heavy object against the ground, but thankfully it didn’t go far. Bits and pieces continued to hit his shoulders and back with annoying stings. He tightened his hold as he cradled Mercy’s head against his chest, her body shaking like a leaf. He closed his eyes and buried his nose into Mercy’s hair, silently thanking all that was holy that they were both still breathing. That was too fucking close for comfort.