Page 108 of Raven

“Then?”

“Then we can fuck off from Port Mrei. We don’t need it. But we need the port. It’s ours. Without it, Ayana has no chance of carrying on.”

Archer turns his hard gaze on me. “Then set up a meeting with Butcher and make a deal.”

He knows what that might mean and that I’ll have to jeopardize my life.

He corrects himself. “We can do a video chat. We don’t need to do it in person. But we need to set the terms clearly.”

Ortiz clears his throat. “That won’t work. That will only show him that we are failing in protecting Ayana.” His eyes shift to me. “That meeting has to happen in person. Possibly, on our territory.”

Archer shakes his head. “It puts Raven in direct danger.”

Ortiz nods. “Then let’s make sure we cover all the bases. We will have that meeting with Butcher. I will go with you. But we will also bring an army with us.”

I nod. There’s no other way. But I don’t need to tell him that no army can save one from getting a bullet in the head.

41

RAVEN

I’m ordering a present for Maddy. I never give her anything. There’s nothing she can’t get herself, except this red Amaryllis. It comes from South Africa. You need an actual agricultural permit to ship it, and it has to be transported in a special container. But I have a way around all this legal stuff.

I’ve lived hundreds of days a year by inertia, moving day to day, going about in the familiar way just doing my job. Long dark evenings smoking and reading. Days, unremarkable and all the same, etched with occasional parties and flareups in Port Mrei. Until I started looking forward to the moments—minutes, seconds—randomly meeting her gaze during the day here and there, catching glimpses of her in the distance. Those moments brought more emotions than anything in years. Feeling something. Something that started filling up my entire existence.

I know I fucked up. The rules of life were always simple. Don’t get a weakness. Don’t get tied up. Keep yourself to yourself.

Right now, there’s nothing more I want than for her to be my weakness, get tied up with her in about anything. Until the reminder of how dangerous it is comes as a message from Butcher.

Butcher: Up for a talk?

Butcher doesn’t talk on the phone. When he wants to talk, he arranges a meeting. What’s more dangerous than declining a meeting with Butcher? Ignoring him.

It’s late afternoon when a team of six of us ride to the port.

Same getup. Bulletproof vests—there’s no need to hide the fact that everything in Port Mrei breathes danger. We all have our guns. We are all slightly on edge, and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way.

We disembark at the port, and the entire port security team is on full alert, guns out, tower snipers on.

Butcher and I agree to meet right at the port’s gates. The gates stay closed most of the time these days. The snipers in the towers have their eyes on the area right outside the gates so there are no surprises.

Me and my five guys line up in front of the gates. We get a signal from the snipers that Butcher is here, so when the gates slide open, Butcher and a group of his men stand right in front of us.

What makes me tick inwardly is the sight of one of his guys. I know that face. I’ve seen his file. Only months ago, he was one of ours. Until he killed his friend, O’Shea, and escaped Zion.

Cunningham has a crooked smirk on his face, his chin lifted cockily. He knows I recognize him. Butcher knows who Cunningham is. And this is just another way to rub it into our faces.

“In these grim times, it looks like you are thriving,” Butcher tells me.

That’s an unusual start to a conversation.

“What makes you say so?”

“Your girl.” Butcher cocks a smile.

Fuck you.

“She is a beauty.”

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