Page 75 of Sypher

I fucking hated bikers sometimes.

A knock at the front door disrupted my train of thought. Looking over my shoulder, I noted the time. I knew it wasn’tDante because he had his own key, so that only meant someone was here without an appointment. I didn’t care who it was, I needed them to leave. I didn’t have time to sit and chat with anyone. My program finished compiling the list of names Reaper and the others needed. It was what they had been waiting for, and I couldn’t deal with any interruptions. The faster I could sort them by importance, the faster I could hand the list off and start concentrating on the next phase of my plan. I still had so much to do, and time was closing in on me fast. I knew I was getting close to discovering who Pandora was and wiping that bitch off the face of the earth.

I wasn’t lying to Reaper when I told him I wanted that bitch dead. She had become my sole focus since Dante told me his truth. The visceral need to see that cunt suffer overrode all logical thinking until only the overwhelming elemental need for retribution encompassed everything around me. I now knew what Reaper truly felt for Remi. It was a disturbing, consuming, prodigiously immense feeling that threatened to rob me of my own sanity.

They knocked again.

Grumbling, I got to my feet and stormed over to the door, throwing it open I found Crispin Sinclair on the other side. Ignoring the fucker, I tried to close the door in his face when he stopped me.

“We need to talk.”

Walking away, I sneered, “Got nothing to fucking say to you.”

He closed the door.

I fucking knew he wouldn’t leave.

“It’s about Dante.”

Rounding on the motherfucker, I got in his face. “You don’t get to say his name. Ever. In fact, I don’t want you near him ever again. What you did to him at that fucking club was cruel and you fucking know it.”

“Yes,” Sinclair simply said without inflection. The man was a fucking robot. He showed no emotion, nothing. It was like looking into the void. I couldn’t tell if the fucker meant what he said or if he was just saying what I wanted to hear. “I will forever regret my actions.”

“Go play your mind games somewhere else, Sinclair. I’m already playing my own game.”

“I know, and I’m here to help you.”

“Don’t need your fucking help. Go away.”

“How bad do you want her?”

Narrowing my eyes, I rounded on the son of a bitch and stepped closer, getting in his space. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Moving around me, Sinclair walked over to one of the couches in the living room, unbuttoned his coat and sat. “I know all about you, Danny Franks. Son to Roxanne and Lee Roy Franks. Youngest of four brothers and the brains behind the Golden Skulls and the downfall of theSociety. You have a remarkable mind, Danny. You remember everything you see or read. Your eidetic and photographic mind is a veritable treasure trove of information, isn’t it? I know why everyone values your discretion because you never reveal what’s floating around in that wonderful brain of yours. I’m not a betting man, Mr. Franks. Never have been. I prefer to make my own odds, yet something tells me with what you have in your head, you could easily bring down the entire world to its knees with one word. That makes you the most dangerous man on the planet.”

“Get to the fucking point.”

“I’m here to offer you your greatest desire on a silver platter.”

Growling, I crossed my arms over my chest. “You don’t give shit away for free, Sinclair, so get to the fucking point fast. I’m losing my fucking patience.”

“That’s what I like about you, Mr. Franks. You don’t mince words.”

“I’m waiting.”

“How badly do you want Pandora?”

“Bad.”

“Enough to walk away from the very thing you love the most?”

The moon hung high, its silvery glow reflecting off the slick, rain-streaked streets as I weaved in and out of traffic, tires squealing, taking me out of the city I reluctantly called home. The scent of exhaust fumes and rain filled the air. The city that never slept pulsed with vibrant, chaotic energy. The sounds of car horns and distant sirens blended with the laughter spilling from open doorways, creating a symphony of urban life, even as a palpable unease hung in the air. Their laughter echoed through the air, a carefree sound that belied the grim realities of their existence. A sense of freedom tangible in every move. The fact was, there were dark, nefarious demons lurking in the shadows, their eyes gleaming with malice, just waiting, biding their time to strike fear into the hearts of the most unassuming individual. Safety was a nonexistent commodity. An absolute that no one was immune, especially with the present threats and dangers.

Not from what I now knew.

Everything changed with what Sinclair told me. I knew he was right. It was all there in my head, but I never put the pieces together. That was on me. Now it was time to accept the inevitable. My plan was futile, non-existent.

Nothing I did would erase the damage. All I could do was control the fallout and hope when the dust settled, those I caredabout were still alive to see another day. There was no stopping the war. I knew that now, and the collateral damage would be great.

---