Page 51 of Property of the Hellfire Riders

“But you offered to help me, and I hope you can still?—“

“What is it, Izzy?”

“I think the Puppeteer is after me.”

“The Puppeteer?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous. “Are you sure about that?”

I nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah, positive. And I need your help.”

He exhales sharply, raking a hand through his raven black hair as he steps closer. “Explain,” he demands. “And don’t leave anything out.”

I take a deep breath, willing my nerves to steady as I unwrap the marionette doll leg, holding it up for him to see. “I found this with a note in my mailbox last night. It’s not much to go on, but it’s the only lead I’ve got. I thought maybe you left it?”

He reaches out, takes the doll from my hands, and studies it with a scowl. “Creepy as hell,” he mutters before turning back to me. “What does the note say?”

“‘Let’s see if you can dance to someone else’s tune,” I recite the words still burning in my mind.

Hawk’s expression hardens. “Sounds like a threat.

“And I thought, maybe after you had me dance…” My cheeks warm, remembering. He watches me out of the corner of his eye as I continue. “But no one’s taking it seriously. The cops are giving me the runaround. Laina had this theory that you’re the Puppeteer and I thought, if he has her and it’s you then maybe…”

“So, you came here?” He crosses his arms, his gaze piercing. “Even though you thought I was a serial killer?”

“I-I didn’t know what else to do, but I know you can help,” I say firmly. “You’ve got the resources and the network. You can find this bastard and stop him.”

He’s silent for a long moment, searching for something—maybe honesty, maybe desperation. “And what do I get out of this, Izzy?”

I exhale slowly, considering my words carefully. “You get to take down the Puppeteer. You get the satisfaction of knowing you didn’t let some psycho run loose on your streets.”

“I’m not some fucking vigilante.”

“No, but you could help?—“

His jaw tightens, but his eyes soften just a fraction. “I used to want to save our city, long ago, but then I found out the police who run this place are crooked and after they killed one of my guys, I figured there’s no point in being the good guy.” He takes a deep breath. “You’re lucky I like a challenge,” he says finally, his voice rough but edged with determination.

“Does that mean you’ll help?”

“Let me think about it. I know Vance and Tank would have my head if something happened to you.” He stops for a moment and looks me up and down. “Just for now, don’t you dare fucking run or sneak off again. Don’t leave my god damn sight unless I say you can. Got it?”

I suck in a deep breath and nod slowly.

“Good. We’ll talk more about this later. I have shit to take care of.”

“Wait, Hawk. Where should I sleep?” I ask.

He looks around the upstairs apartment then back to me.

“My bed, of course.”

12

VANCE

“You fucked her?!” Hawk roars outside. The heavy strong winds fall over the parking lot as Hawk stands over Tank, who is sitting outside smoking a joint. The smoke curls upward under his nose.

Thunder echoes after his voice as rain continues to pelt the parking lot.

“The hell's wrong with you?” Tank asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

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