Page 52 of Siren's Blood

Well, technically it was our second, but I’d been too filled with fear to appreciate the first time. And Frankie had practically grown up on them.

The happy grins on our faces were stupidly contagious, but I’d gripped Marissa’s hand like she was about to disappear. I would never forget that first experience with Frankie since it was the closest I’d come to feeling like I was swimming through the ocean waves again.

I glanced at my boss, who studied the photo with a loving expression. She was like a mother to us, though she’d hate for me to say it. Maybe just an older sister.

Maybe I was feeling overly confident after the date, but I had to do this for her. For all of us.

“I’ll do it.”

“Do what?” She took another drag of her cigarette and rubbed her thumb across a smudge on the picture frame.

“Fight.”

Her thumb stilled on the glass, and she slowly blew out the smoke in thick rings. “Don’t say shit like that unless you’re serious.”

“I am serious. This is my home thanks to you. Thanks to your unwavering generosity. I owe you this much.”

She set the frame down and met my determined gaze. “Let’s get one thing straight. You don’t owe me nothin’, girl. You’ve worked your ass off here. I probably owe you.”

I smiled. “Yeah, probably. But I’m serious. I’ll do it.”

Her eyes narrowed as she studied me, probably trying to figure out if I was actually being serious. Finally, she dropped her feet to the ground and put out the cigarette.

“Okay, then. I ain’t above takin’ your charity. But we’ll set it up right, kid. Only one fight, I promise.” Her voice grew more animated as she continued. “We’ll get the big names in here to watch and ramp up excitement, charge at the door, take a percentage of any bets.”

As I listened to her rattle on with a tense smile plastered on my face, my thoughts tumbled as tumultuously as an ocean storm. It was obvious she’d thought about this before—a lot.

Terror and guilt vied for my attention, both of which had a death grip on my stomach. One told me to flee before it was too late while the other demanded I protect my home and family.

Was I doing the right thing? Would Frankie protect me and Marissa if things went sour?

Could she even protect us?

CHAPTER 19

Dominic

After the limousine pulled away from Subliminal, I leaned back against the leather seat and messaged Rin and Keiko to meet me for the job. My grip tightened on the phone, my fury growing with every passing moment.

Of all the days for something to go wrong.

And it had gone very wrong. Ichiro would never call me to step in like this unless it was serious. Not because the old man valued my free time, but because he hated admitting he needed his bastard grandson to clean up a mess.

The good news was it further proved that I was the best choice to take over the Sato empire. My dragon was one of the fiercest, most lethal spirits since Ichiro’s, possibly even rivaling that vicious old beast. Naming anyone else would make my grandfather look like a fool, and a fool he was not.

I let the satisfaction of that thought curl around my anger until the emotion loosened its vise-like hold. I needed a clear mind for what I was about to do.

When the limousine stopped outside a warehouse not far from the National Arboretum, I opened the door and stepped out without waiting for Samson.

My driver met me beside the car’s door. “Shall I come back later, sir?”

“No, this won’t take long.” I strode to the trunk and popped it open. A treasure trove of weapons waited within—guns, knives, explosives, and more.

A familiar figure slipped out of the surrounding darkness, his dark eyes tinged with red. Rin’s dragon was ready and waiting. “Keiko’s getting into place.”

We had done enough jobs together over the years that we each knew our roles without being told. In silence, we strapped a few extra knives and guns to our bodies as a precaution, but our real weapons were imprinted on our skin forever.

Satisfied with our selections, I closed the trunk, and Rin followed me toward the building where the transaction and subsequent fuck-up had occurred. We strode into the warehouse as if we owned the place.

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