Page 18 of Bonds of Obsession

“I’m going to get Atlas back. I’m giving Ambrose what he wants.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Nico asks, the skepticism clear in his tone. “We don’t even know how to use the marker that’s tattooed on you.”

I nod, conceding that he’s right. “That’s exactly why we need more information. About the tattoo, the Syndicate, Malcolm Mercer. He’s supposedly their leader, but we don’t know anything about him. We need to gather whatever info we can get our hands on. Which means we need to talk to Willow and her men again.”

Nico and Killian exchange a glance. They don’t need to say a word for me to tell how reluctant they are to go back there. But they don’t argue.

“Coffee first,” Nico says after a moment. “Then we’ll go pay Willow a visit.”

I nod, relieved that they aren’t giving me any pushback. Then again, it’s not like we really have any other choice. “Agreed. Let’s get dressed and head out soon.”

Less than an hour later, we’re on our bikes, speeding across the city toward the large warehouse where Willow and her men have made a home.

I’m the first one to pull up outside. There aren’t any signs of life visible from the exterior of the large, solid building, but I have no doubt that Willow’s men spotted me as soon as my front tire hit the property. Victor is a tech wizard, and I’m sure he’s got dozens of security cameras set up around the perimeter.

I kill the engine, and my boots hit the ground with a soft thud. Killian and Nico are at my sides in an instant, both of them sticking a little closer to me than usual.

As we approach the front door, I can feel their tension. Killian’s jaw is set, his eyes scanning our surroundings. Nico’s hand hovers near his waist, ready to draw his weapon at a moment’s notice.

I can’t blame them for not trusting anyone at this point, even friendly acquaintances. We’ve just been through too much.

I was right about us already having been spotted, because the door opens before we even reach it, and Willow steps out, her blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight. Her brows furrow as she takes us in, her gaze lingering on the empty space where Atlas should be.

“Hi, Quinn,” she says. Her tone is casual, despite the slight aura of tension in the air. “It seems like you’re a man down.”

I swallow hard, fighting to keep my expression neutral. But I can feel my mask slipping as the worry for Atlas threatens to crack my composure.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “I am. And that’s… related to the reason I’m here. We need another favor.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, surprise crossing her delicate features. Since the first time I met her when she and the three Voronin brothers came to meet with my father at Blood and Ink, Willow has struck me as an incongruous mix of softness and steel. She’s sweet and gentle, but there’s something else beneath the surface that always made me certain that she’s as tough as I am on the inside.

That toughness is evident as she crosses her arms, cocking her head slightly. “Another one? You’re racking up quite a tab with us.”

I nod, acknowledging the truth in her words. “I know, and I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. But we have no one else to ask. It’s… about Atlas. He’s been taken.”

Some of the pain that’s crushing my chest leaks out in my words, and Willow’s expression shifts, empathy flashing through her eyes. She studies us for a long moment, her gaze flicking between me, Killian, and Nico. Finally, she sighs and steps aside.

“Come in. We’ll talk inside.”

Once we’re inside, it only takes a second to spot the Voronin brothers. All three of them stride into the foyer at the same time—the twins, Malice and Vic, and their younger brother, Ransom.

Malice is holding their adorable baby girl, Dayana, in his arms, and he and his brothers watch us with unreadable expressions, their postures relaxed but alert.

Willow glances at the three of them, some unspoken communication passing between them all. Then she leads us deeper into the warehouse and gestures for us to sit at a large table in an open area that looks like it probably serves as their dining room. As we settle onto our seats, I can see my men eyeing the brothers. There’s no open hostility, but the tension in the air is palpable.

“So,” Willow says, leaning forward on her elbows. “What’s this favor you need?”

I take another deep breath, steeling myself. “We need more information about the Dark Lotus Syndicate. Specifically, we need a way to contact Malcolm Mercer.”

The reaction is immediate. Willow’s eyes widen as Vic and Ransom exchange a loaded glance, and Malice shifts Dayana in his inked arms, his jaw tight.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Vic asks, his voice low. “From the research I already did about that organization, you know how dangerous they are. You’d be better off staying far away from them.”

“That’s not an option.” I shake my head firmly. “No matter how dangerous it is, I need to talk to Malcolm Mercer.”

Malice’s eyes narrow as he studies me, and Ransom lets out a low whistle. Vic hasn’t blinked once since I mentioned the DLS, his gaze locked on me with an almost unnatural stillness. But I ignore all of them, focusing on Willow instead.

“Please,” I murmur quietly. “Anything you can dig up for us. Anything you can tell us would help. Ihaveto talk to Malcolm. Atlas’s life depends on it.”

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