Page 130 of Riordan's Revenge

My phone buzzed. I answered the call. “Cassiopeia’s house of pain. How may I hurt ye today?”

On the other end of the line, Tyler gave a snort of amusement. “Got a phone number for you. Your Uncle Patrick who’s Cassandra’s older brother. He runs a scaffolding company and is a minor league dealer. Fair warning, I ran a quick background check, and if you’re trying to find a friendly family member, I don’t think it’s going to be him.”

I sighed. “Lay it on me.”

“His first wife accused him of domestic violence, but he got off the charge. He has two convictions for brawling at football matches and several warnings.”

“A violent dealer. Awesome. Can’t wait for the family reunion.”

I thanked him and got off the line, staring down at the follow-up text Tyler sent with Uncle Patrick’s phone number. He’d know more about his sister than most others. Maybe he even missed her and regretted what their father did. He might even know how she ended up dead.

Shade let me brood in silence while we tracked Piers’ taxi.

“He’s heading for the mayor’s house.”

I lifted my head and took in our surroundings. We’d left the tall buildings and concrete streets of central Deadwater and entered a leafy suburb.

Last time I’d come here had been in a reckless pursuit of Riordan. We’d stolen the mayor’s painting then biked away into the moonlight.

My heart squeezed. We’d woken in the late afternoon with no time to linger in bed. He was heading out into the city with my brother while I had plans with Shade.

Not for a minute had I stopped thinking about him. Or what he’d said.

I hadn’t messaged him, though.

At midnight, which was closing in fast, it was my birthday, and he’d threatened to say words that could operate our self-destruct. I didn’t want that. I couldn’t stand the thought of his face no longer fascinating me. Or his arms or his heart. Of him fading back to being just another fad I’d got over.

On my phone, I tabbed over to his tracker. Earlier, he and Struan had been at Town Hall, then another office, and a lock-up facility. My eyes widened now when his tracker pinged on the screen.

We stopped at traffic lights, and I held up my phone to Shade. “Look where Rio and Struan are.”

He gave a low whistle. “Party time at the mayor’s house. I’ll message them to expect company.”

He sent a fast text while I got a sudden burst of nerves I didn’t know how to quell.

Piers would be joining them in minutes with us close behind. I had bloodlust, man lust, and both needed to go according to plan.

Chapter 39

Riordan

With a savage-edged zombie blade held high, Struan slashed another of the mayor’s suits with a satisfying rip. “So tomorrow begins his big election campaign presentation. Wonder what he’ll be wearing. Not the Armani. Nor the Zegna. Wait, there’s a Ralph Lauren left. Ah, shame. That one cut like butter. Nice material. Makes me almost want to own a suit.”

On the opposite side of the mayor’s dark bedroom, I prised open a heavy watch case and took out the first of two rows, some gaps in the lineup. A Rolex. Shiny, with a little crown symbol and a broad metal strap. I set it down on the bedside table, raised my hammer, then smashed the glass. Next, I dug into the guts with the claw end, enjoying the destruction. Small pieces of the expensive watch’s mechanism went tinkling.

Throughout the course of the evening, I’d laid waste to the mayor’s life. First, Struan and I trashed his Town Hall office, including stealing his laptop and throwing it in the river.Confidential files from his cabinet had been left around town, on benches and in bar bathrooms, secret budget meetings and character assassinations contained within. We’d poured cement powder into the fuel tanks of the two cars he used—those engines would never run again—and had now moved on to his home.

If he thought Cassie’s set of minor tricks were disturbing, wait until he got a load of mine.

“Don’t stop there.” I punctuated my words with a crack to a new watch. “I want him to feel violated and scared, like Everly did when he sold her out to his business partner. Disappointed and despondent, like my mother when he told her to get an abortion. Desperate, like I was when he left me nearly homeless. I want there to be no place of safety left for him.”

Struan took to a shelf of smart sweaters, cutting one right down the middle. “He’ll know by now that Arran’s barring him from the warehouse.”

As we’d readied to leave this evening, Arran had filled us in on his part of bringing down the mayor. He knew the man was booked into the brothel and was allowing it to go ahead to give us space to play. But after, he’d inform him because of his anti-gang policy, his business was no longer welcome.

It meant a fight. From what I understood, Arran’s semi-legal operations had been tolerated by the mayor because the man benefited from them. Cut off, who knew what he’d do. But the mayor had cast the first stone. This was all on him.

We continued with our tasks, destroying every personal possession and leaving them to be discovered.

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