Page 145 of Priest and his Anarchist

Maybe.

The soles of my Jordans squeak against the marble floor when I bend down to rip off the cover, exposing the satin-black Maserati. The complete pair to her own.

Papa Roach screams about angels and insects as I swallow another gulp of the cheap whiskey. Strobe lights flicker, and I kick my leg out, hiding my smirk behind my glass when I study Thornhill’s Devil in the flesh. Not even the half-a-million-dollar suit can hide the rugged scar across his neck. Whoever tried to kill him didn’t do a very good job, and even worse still, I’ve heard she’s still alive.

Barely.

“I take it you did what you intended to do.” Archer’s eyes fly around the room. “What is this place? Another one of your honey pots?”

I choke on my laugh. “Something like that.” He is the one who understands what it takes to run an organization like ours. Without judgment, he’s been there often. I respect him a lot more than I do a couple of my own right now. Like a beast in the flesh of a prince.

He turns his eyes onto mine. “Hope it wasn’t for what I think it was.”

I slide my glass across the table, tapping on the side to the beat of the song. I can tell him to shut the fuck up, but all he’d do is stare at me. Nothing, and I mean nothing frightens Archer Thorn. Nothing frightens any of The Echelon. We’d all rip each other apart, sure, but we’d all die doing it.

“News travels fast.” I roll my eyes. Something sprays over my mouth from across the room. My tongue traces the trickle of silver until it slips down my throat. I swipe at the rest with the edge of my thumb, looking behind Archer’s back to see a woman with long, blonde hair who’s bleeding out between her legs standing over an older man.

Archer ignores the blood on the back of his neck. “Yeah, it does. So tell me.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Why would you kill the girl you made me sign a blood oath to not go near when I agreed to take her?”

I hiss through the burn. “Maybe because I wanted to be the one who killed her?”

“That’s not very romantic, Priesty.” His casual use of Stella’s nickname has my eye twitch. “Not even for you.” He leans back in his chair, his arm spreading over the top.

“What gave the impression I was a romantic?” I’d be annoyed if it was anyone else.

He glares at me, gesturing to the waiter for another drink. She steps over the puddle of blood, swiping the bottle from beneath the bar on her travel to us. “The fact that you made me sign a blood oath to ensure I didn’t hurt her.”

He’s not going to drop it. “Fair.”

“We have a—” I’m cut off by both our phones vibrating on the table at the same time and we look down to see the same number flashing over both our screens. “Not good.”

“No.” He swipes his, and I do the same, as we both bring it to our ears.

“We have a problem.” Her voice feels like toffee after it’s been burned.

“Always is whenever you call. Only why is Archer’s phone popping off too?”

The line goes quiet for a moment. It’s not in her description to elaborate, but she’s going to anyway, because of who she is to me.

“Priest. Get up and leave, now.” When the last Huntress walked through the door of The Echelon of the Five, I knew I was fucked.

Archer and I both land on each other at the same time, and I’m guessing whoever is on the other side of his call is saying something similar. We never know who we all have since the job of a Huntress is sacred. Every one of the Five had one, but their job is too important to allow anyone to have. The skill of a hacker, the mind of a master coder, a seductress. The Huntress does it all. She hunts to ensure the steps we take have a safe path.

“Why?” I ask, my finger slowing its tap on the side of my glass. Everything around grows louder the longer time goes on. Her breathing turns labored, slow.

“Because you both can’t be in the same place. There’s been some sort of breach. We haven’t figured it out yet, but we havereason to suspect that there’s a hit out on all five of you. Having you and Archer together right now is less than ideal.”

Archer answers. “Got it.”

We both hang up. I tip my head and swallow back my drink. “This new threat.”

“Never had it before.” He shakes his head, his hand moving over the side of his face. He’s been in the Five a lot longer than me. Never asked why. “Which means that whoever it is and whatever reason they have to suspect this, means it’s legit.”

Archer shifts back from his chair, dropping bills on the table and fixing his suit. “You and I both know your public declaration wasn’t the way to go about this. But you did it anyway. Whatever you have going on, you need to fix so we can move forward from this—whatever it is.”

“See you in Thornhill?” My eyes darken when I shift up to his. He’s still watching me carefully.

“You’re all coming?”

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