Page 143 of Princes of Carnage

It’s all business as usual. Or rather, business as “the new usual,” now that things have been so diminished in light of the threats against us. There’s less of an air of outright frustration than there was at our last meeting, but I’m not relaxing just yet. Finding out more info about Silas was good, but it won’t be good enough until he’s dead.

“I think we need to make a move on this while we can,” one of the crew is saying about some smuggling operation that we’ve had on the back burner for a while now. “I know we need to be careful, but we also can’t let this opportunity pass us by.”

They all look to me, and I turn it over in my head. I know what my dad would do, ambitious as he was, and it’s the same thing I think would be best.

“Okay. We’ll jump on it, but if it seems like it’ll be too hard to pull off right away, we need to take our time. Play it smart. Don’t make it known that we’re being cautious for a reason, but no one can blame us for protecting our interests.”

Thankfully, everyone’s nodding along with that, not arguing with my approach. By the time we wrap things up and head upstairs, there’s an air of optimism among the group, which is a relief.

Most of the people I called in file out, except for the ones who are on duty at the shop. A UPS truck pulls up outside, and a couple of Enigma members who are smoking on the sidewalk eye the driver warily as he gets out. He looks a little nervous himself as he approaches and talks to them for a second before handing over a package and hopping back into his truck.

“Package for you, boss!” one of them calls, poking his head in the door.

“Thanks.” I step forward and take it from him with a grin. I know exactly what this is, but I didn’t know it was coming today.

“Something for the shop?” Emmett asks, coming over when I prop the box up on a table to open it.

“No, something personal.”

He stands there while I open it, and I don’t make an effort to hide what I got from him.

It’s for the Princes.

It’s something I thought about the other night when they all put those skull masks on, and the way Atlas has been appreciating my drawings lately gave me the idea for it. Our gangs have a union now, and I had the idea that I wanted to give them something to put on their helmets to represent me. Us. What we’ve been building together.

So I sketched out a skull, like the masks they wear and the decals on their helmets, but with a snake wrapped around the skull, the tail coming out of the mouth. The snake has vines wrapped around it, and a teal colored lily to one side.

It was easy to design the art and have it printed, and now I have the decals, ready to give to the guys.

“The skull is for Carnage, isn’t it?” Emmett asks. His eyes shutter as he glances at the decals and then away. “You drew something for them. I recognize your art.”

“Yeah, I did,” I say, keeping my voice light. I’m well aware that he’s never been a fan of this alliance, but I’m not looking to argue with him about it. Not right now.

He presses his lips together but doesn’t say anything else about it. Even his displeasure can’t dim my excitement about giving this to the three men. I think they’re going to like it. Maybe it’s stupid, but I had the idea of calling it a belated “wedding gift” or something like that. Nico and I have the ring tattoos, but this is something that would tie all four of us together in a way.

“Can you hold down the fort here?” I ask Emmett. “There shouldn’t be anything to do, really.”

“Yeah. Of course,” he says shortly.

Ordinarily, I’d stick around for longer, maybe take some walk-ins for tattoos, but right now, I want to go see the Princes.

I know the three of them are at the clubhouse right now, handling their own business, so I ride my bike over there. I pull up outside, parking a little ways away because I want to surprise them. They’re not expecting me at all.

Just like when I was here with Atlas before, it doesn’t seem like there’s anyone else around. I catch sight of Nico, Atlas, and Killian’s bikes parked out front as I slip inside quietly.

The front room is empty, but I can hear voices coming from down the hall. I move in that direction on silent feet, only half listening to the murmur of their voices.

But as I get closer, I can make out the words they’re saying.

There’s something about the tone of their voices that gives me pause, and I stop in my tracks. They sound serious, like something is wrong—and then I hear one of them say my name.

“The Saint is going to be expecting another update,” Nico says, and I creep a bit closer, straining to hear more. “We’re supposed to be finding out Quinn’s secrets, using this opportunity to spy on her, and he’s gonna be pissed if he doesn’t get what he wants soon.”

My blood runs cold, my stomach dropping like a rock.

What the fuck?

“He’s an impatient motherfucker,” Killian grumbles.

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