Page 118 of Princes of Carnage

A man strides forward, and I recognize him as Harlan, the leader of the Young Killers. He’s tall and lean, with close cropped black hair and pale eyes that snap with anger. Unlike the guy lying dead at Nico’s feet, Harlan wears his authority well, and he gets in Nico’s face, clearly pissed the hell off.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarls. “We invite you here to talk peace, and you start killing our own? I should drop you and your cronies right fucking now.”

Nico doesn’t even flinch in the face of Harlan’s anger. He keeps his calm, lifting his chin to look the taller man right in the eyes. I know he won’t back down. That would show weakness. Killian and Atlas—and me, by extension—would have to back him up, and there’s a lot more of the Young Killers gathered here than there are of us. Even if we did somehow manage to get out in one piece, that would just be another enemy made. We already have our hands full trying to deal with Silas, so we don’t need this.

My mind races, trying to come up with some way to get us out of this without it coming down to a fight. When an idea pops into my head, I don’t hesitate or pause to second-guess, I just go with it. It can’t make anything worse, at least.

“You should be grateful he killed that guy, actually,” I say, raising my voice and stepping forward a little.

The Young Killers keep their guns trained on me, but I lift my hands to show that they’re empty, even though I feel fucking naked without a weapon in my grip.

Harlan glances over at me, his eyes narrowed. “And what exactly do you mean by that? Why the fuck should I be grateful.”

I shrug, keeping my stance relaxed and confident, just like Nico is doing. “Because he was a traitor. That was part of what we were going to talk to you about today.”

Silence reigns after I speak, nobody seeming to know what to say. Harlan is still looking at me distrustfully, but at least he’s not staring Nico down anymore.

“Why should I believe you?” he demands, his eyes narrowing. “Why the fuck should I listen to anything you say?”

“Because I can prove it,” I tell him.

A flash of surprise crosses his face, but it’s quickly replaced with a scowl. “Then show me.”

“Alright.”

I nod, keeping my hands raised as I step forward, trying to ignore the rapid, heavy pounding of my heart. I walk quickly over to the body and rummage in his pockets until I find his cell phone. It’s locked, but I pick up one of his limp hands and press a finger to the screen to unlock it.

Working swiftly as I hunch over the body, I tap the screen a few times, then rise to my feet and show the phone to Harlan. The recent call log shows several outgoing calls to Pietro, a well-known member of a gang that the Young Killers consider their enemy.

“Fuck.” Harlan’s eyes widen. “What the fuck? If this is true…” His gaze darts from the phone back up to my face. “You should have brought this information straight to me. It’s not your job to punish members of my gang.”

“He put his hands on my wife,” Nico says, shrugging. “He signed his own death warrant.”

Harlan’s face goes pinched with anger once more, and I shoot Nico a look before trying to smooth things over again. “He grabbed me, yeah. I think he knew we were on to him. He threatened me, and Nico didn’t react well to that.”

“He threatened you?” Harlan repeats.

I nod. “He had beef with my dad before me. He said Enigma was getting too big, and that we needed to be reminded of our place. Said he could help make sure that would happen, since you were slipping as a leader. I guess he meant he’d do it with backup from Pietro.”

I shrug, keeping my face impassive.

My heart is racing, even though my voice comes out even and sure. The best lies, my dad used to say, always have a nugget of the truth in them. He told me to always give away just enough to make sure whoever I was lying to caught the whiff of honesty, even if the rest was pure bullshit.

Harlan seems to be buying it. I knew throwing in that dig against him as a leader would get his hackles up, which made it a big risk. But fortunately, since he thinks the dead man said it, the majority of his anger is now directed at a corpse and not me or the Princes. He steps back from Nico, glancing down at the crumpled body of his gang member.

“He didn’t have the authority to be making threats like that,” he mutters, his lip curling. “He was low level. A nobody.”

I lift one shoulder. “Maybe he thought he could get higher with another gang.”

A flash of irritation passes across Harlan’s face, and I know I’ve hit the nail of the head with that guess. I can just imagine this guy pestering his leader, trying to get more than his due.

“We formed our alliance to make sure that we wouldn’t have to bow to threats,” Nico puts in, finally getting with the fucking program. “It felt right to make an example out of this one.”

I can feel Atlas and Killian at our backs, both of them still tense, ready to draw their weapons and turn this into a firefight if necessary.

For a while, Harlan doesn’t say anything. He just stands there, looking down at the body on the floor. Then he sighs and shakes his head.

He makes a hand motion, and we all tense up even more… but then the rest of the Young Killers stand down, putting their guns away.

---