Page 52 of Lord of Ruin

“Shit. That’s the same warning I received,” I said under my breath.

“It would seem we all did,” Daniel said as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Which as you might imagine is very disconcerting since our numbers aren’t listed anywhere.”

“Although you know anyone can find anything they want these days,” Phoenix tossed in.

“Three in the morning?” I asked, looking at Diego then Dante, curious since they were three hours behind.

“Yes, and our time, which meant it was personally done, not by a computer,” Diego answered.

“That’s what I thought. Why was I included?”

“That’s part of the reason you’re here, brother,” Phoenix said.

I noticed Sabatino was headed for a fully stocked bar. I couldn’t deny at this point I needed a drink as well. It was after noon, which meant it was five o’clock somewhere. Not that the time of day had stopped me before.

“We think it’s because of what happened while you were in New York.” Gabriel studied me. “And what was found on your Russian assassin inside the veterinary clinic.”

“What does that mean? You buy my theory of this having something to do with the Death Squad?”

Constantine sighed. “Perhaps, although none of us has received confirmation other than our various informants act as if a storm is brewing in each one of our cities.”

Gabriel pulled out his phone but instead of showing the same text, he allowed me to see a photograph taken. It appeared to be on the chest of the man I’d killed protecting Jenna.

“Theta Nigrum or the black theta,” Brogan offered. “It means death in Latin and Greek mythology.”

A circle with a line through it. I’d seen it more than once in the years I’d been doing this.

The men were looking at me as if I knew what they were getting at. “The Russian also had a brand.”

“Yes, we’ve seen that as well,” Constantine said. He followed Sabatino to the bar, pouring himself a scotch.

Meanwhile, I studied my brother, trying to determine what kind of mood he was in.

“There are many assassins who wear a violent mark carved into their bodies, usually required by Mexican or South American Cartels, including some we’ve come into contact with recently. However, we put the pieces together just a couple months ago that the Death Squad hires the same kind of men to do their dirty work.” Maxim didn’t have the same level of anger in his tone, his more thoughtful.

“I’ve heard about the Mexican Cartels,” I said, remembering reading about some of the smaller ones who made the brutality we’d used look like kid’s play. “But the use of Russians?”

Dante nodded. “Russian mercenaries would eat their young if ordered, especially those who spent time in the frozen prisons. From what we can tell, a few select cartels have become more organized as enforcers for the main core of the Death Squad. But that’s not who we think is creating the recent difficulties. Although it could be nothing more than a warning of things to come in the not-so-distant future.”

“Not the Albanians,” Phoenix stated, as if he already knew.

“Let me guess. The Bratva? Irish pigs out of New York? No offense, Brogan,” I said as an afterthought.

“None taken. You aren’t too far off the mark and the Irish in New York are truly pigs,” he said by way of answer. “They don’t follow the rules.”

“What are you getting at?” It was my turn to head to the bar.

“Have you ever heard of a true Irishman by the name of Madden Byrne?” Constantine asked, waiting for me as I poured myself a bourbon.

“Yeah, I have. From where?” I glanced at Phoenix.

“You heard of the family given the former leader’s attempt at crushing our family while still in Greece.” While Phoenix had no emotion in his voice, what little I’d been told about the time in history when I’d lost another uncle and two cousins to a bombing incident brought back the same instant anger.

The connection wasn’t a fucking coincidence. “Like father, like son.”

Constantine grinned. “Very much so. The dude is a real piece of work. However, while he and his family have run Ireland, England, and several other European countries for decades, until recently he’s shied away from coming to this side of the world.”

“So why now? The New York Clan?” I studied him intently. “Or just a way to get to our family.”

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