Page 90 of Princes of Carnage

Nico nods, his face set into grim lines. “Yeah. It fucking does.”

“We thought there would be safety in numbers,” I say, sinking into the chair opposite him and rubbing my temples with my fingertips. “But it’s not enough. They took out four of our people at once last night, and we can’t afford to send a whole army of people on every job. That would get insane.”

“Not to mention too goddamn conspicuous,” he adds.

I snort. “Yeah. That too.”

Nico brings one hand down on the table, his fist striking the wood with a heavy thud. “I’m done with this shit. I’m not losing another man, and neither are you. I say that until we figure out who’s after us, we divert all resources to finding them. We can’t keep treading water, trying to stay afloat while he picks our people off one by one.”

“Agreed.” I meet his gaze, impressed in spite of myself by the hard expression on his face. He’s serious. He’s willing to drop everything else just to keep his people safe, and I can respect that. “I owe this motherfucker—whoever they are—a bullet through their head and a gashed up face. Every fucking thing they did to our people, I’ll do to them.”

For just a second, the somber expression fades from Nico’s handsome features, replaced by a small smile. His eyes warm as his gaze tracks over my face. “Vengeance looks good on you, mia cara.”

His words and the tone of his voice make my heart trip in my chest. I don’t know how to respond to that, so I brush right past it, clearing my throat. “We might have a lead. Before yesterday’s shit show, Killian and I actually did get some information that could be useful.”

Nico sits up a little straighter, his gaze sharpening. “What did you learn?”

I fill him in on the tip we got from Tobias, watching as he takes it in. His eyebrows are drawn down, and he has a thoughtful look on his face.

“That area is right by your territory,” he says.

I nod, knowing he’s thinking the same thing I am. It could be nothing, but it also seems like too big of a coincidence to ignore if there are rumors of a new player on the scene right near the spot Enigma has staked out for itself.

“Tobias didn’t know much about it,” I add. “He’d just picked up a few rumors, nothing too substantial. We need to find someone who has ears to the ground in that area and might have more concrete information.”

Nico makes a noise in his throat, drumming his fingers on the table thoughtfully. “Yeah. And it’s not gonna be some street informant. We’re looking for higher-level information than they’d have. We need to find someone who—” He breaks off, holding up a hand. “Vincent Locke.”

I frown. “What?”

“Vincent Locke. He runs a pleasure den in that area called Eros. He doesn’t have an official organization and keeps mostly to himself, but he’s territorial as fuck and can hold a grudge longer than anyone I’ve ever met. I’m positive he keeps tabs on what’s going on around him, so if someone is making moves, even subtly, he’ll probably know something about it. If we can get in to talk to him, he might be able to give us a name.”

As Nico speaks, Killian and Atlas stride into the room, one after the other. The whole atmosphere changes when they come in, and I feel the tension crawling up my back.

Something about Nico talking about a pleasure den while Killian is listening from mere feet away hits a little too close to home. Eros isn’t the same place we went to, but it’s in a close enough vein to have my hackles up.

Killian crosses to the fridge and reaches inside to get something, wincing slightly as he does.

That catches Nico’s attention, who narrows his eyes at his friend. “What’s wrong?”

“Pulled something,” Killian says shortly.

My eyebrows lift slightly in surprise. He could have easily told Nico that I stabbed him, but he doesn’t, and Nico doesn’t push for more information, seeming to buy Killian’s explanation. Instead, Nico glances at Atlas as the tatted up man comes to sit down at the table.

Luckily, Atlas keeps a bit of distance between us, deliberately pulling his chair out at an angle so that we’re seated as far away from each other as possible without drawing attention to it. I wonder if he feels as unsettled with all the unresolved shit between us as I do. We’ve barely said a word to each other for days, but the unspoken words swirling between us are practically deafening by this point.

Atlas doesn’t make eye contact with me, focusing on Nico instead, and that’s fine with me. I lean back in my chair, letting Nico do most of the talking as he fills Killian and Atlas in on what we were just talking about.

Killian nods in expressionless agreement, but Atlas scowls, a look of distaste crossing his face as he cracks his tattooed knuckles. “Really? Vincent Locke? He’s our best option?”

“At this point, yes,” Nico says, a weight to his tone that suggests there’s more being communicated between them in that way they have. “I’m not saying I like it, but we need to try to talk to him.”

“I’ll go,” I offer, cutting in. “I can go to Eros tonight and try to get something out of Vincent. We don’t have time to waste. Whoever’s doing this shit has already gotten bold enough to start killing. We don’t want to see what happens if we give them time to get even bolder.”

“I don’t disagree, but it’s not going to be as easy as walking in and getting the kind of answers you want.” Nico shifts his focus to me. His expression is dark, and he holds my gaze intently. “Eros isn’t just any club, mia cara. It’s… old school, I guess you’d say.”

Atlas snorts. “Try ‘archaic.’”

Nico inclines his head slightly, acknowledging his friend’s words. “It’s usually an invite-only club, so you’ll have a hard time getting in at all. And they have a hell of a lot of strict rules for dress, conduct, and pretty much everything else. Doing the wrong thing there could land you in a lot of trouble.”