Page 117 of Reaper Flame

“Does anyone recognize it?” West asked, looking over Vixen’s shoulder. “The place?”

“If we did, we wouldn’t be sitting here,” I snapped.

“Fuck!” West cursed, whirling around and punching a hole in the wall. “What do we do?!”

Vixen ran a finger over Mieko’s face on the screen. Her voice broke as she said, “She looks so scared.”

I rose from the sofa and took her trembling frame into my arms before I changed my mind. Vixen’s world hung in the balance, but I wanted her to know we were going to do everything we could. I expected her to shove me away, or slap me, or break my arm... but she didn’t. Her arms closed around me.

“I’m so sorry, Vix,” I murmured, stroking her back and holding her tight.

She sniffed and squeezed hard. “I know.”

“I promise I’ll make it right,” I whispered. “I’ll make this right or die trying. We’ll bring her back.”

A few seconds later, she pulled away and nodded sharply. The others hadn’t heard my words, but she had. Her nod told me all I needed to know: she believed me. I wouldn’t let her or Mieko down. Not again.

Vixen wiped her eyes, refusing to submit to her emotions. “What do we do next?”

“Red, go and find a paper,” Zander ordered. “When it checks out, we will do what Hiram says.”

Rocky nodded, already sprinting out the door.

I grimaced. “It’s time for a photo shoot.”

“I’ll help,” Vixen said. Her artistic flair made her the best person to take the shot. “Tell me what you need.”

The Blackbird spent his life trying to blend into the shadows. In death, he’d be immortalized under our flashlight.

“We need to hurry,” I said. The more irritated Hiram got, the worse it’d be for Mieko. “Hiram isn’t known for his fucking patience. Let’s stage a shoot.”

* * *

“He was a pain in the ass alive, but he’s even worse dead!” West complained.

He stopped to wipe his brow after having to heave the body from the freezer and lie it on the kitchen floor. The nondescript background could be anywhere. Unfortunately for West, trying to pose a corpse that had already gone into rigor mortis used more energy than a triathlon. We were lucky his body hadn’t frozen to the inside of the freezer already, but West still had to break a few bones to get him in position.

“Here’s the paper,” Rocky said, returning at the perfect time. After comparing the headlines, it confirmed our earlier suspicions. “It’s a match.”

Vixen dabbed extra concealer under the Blackbird’s eyes as West almost snapped his fingers off trying to close them around the inky pages. Vixen would have to pick her angle well to make it look convincing, but there are only so many ways to polish a turd.

“Ready?” I asked Vixen.

She took the picture and held it out for us to inspect. “What do you think?”

“What about his eyes?” Rocky frowned. “No one’s gonna buy that!”

“Do we have any colored contacts?” I asked. The dancers made use of them for special performances. “That might liven them up a little.”

“Please!” Vixen scoffed. “I’ll Photoshop the fuck out of them in perfect time, and Hiram won’t even know.”

“Who knew that class in juvie would come in handy?” Rocky said.

We all glared at him.

“How long do you need?” Zander asked her.

“I can work fast,” she said. “I’ll send it in five.”

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