Page 9 of The Wild Charge

Luis tore his gaze from Reese and breathed a moment, shaking all over. “You don’t understand.”

Walsh said, “So says everyone we ask about this bloody business. I for one am tired of hearing it.”

Mercy said, “Reese, go get me my hammer and a handful of the nails from the kit.”

Reese complied, with something like eagerness twisting in his belly. He didn’t glance toward Tenny, because it felt important that he didn’t. When he offered the hammer, Mercy said, “You wanna do the honors?”

He found that he did.

“Luis,” Walsh said, “you have about three seconds to start talking about Allie and Nicole. Otherwise…”

Mercy crouched down and tugged off Luis’s shoes. He touched the top of his foot with a fingertip, indicating.

Reese nodded, went down on one knee, and lined up one of the nails – shiny, new, and clean, Reese noted. Mercy was considerate, in that respect. Or perhaps just scrupulous.

“Luis,” Walsh prompted.

Reese lifted the hammer.

“Wait!” Luis shouted. “Wait! I can help you!”

Reese’s attention was fixed on the top of Luis’s bare foot, the tendons flexing as he wriggled his toes, like he actually thought he could get away. It would only take one strong hammer strike, and he could–

A hand closed on the back of his cut, right at the collar, and dragged him back.

He twisted free, and shot to his feet, whirling to face his assailant.

Who was Tenny, empty palms bared in warning. His gaze glittered, hard and unhappy. “Stop it. You’re being an idiot, you tit.”

He still held the hammer and nail; had brandished them like weapons. He was breathing harshly through his mouth, his chest tight.

He was…out of control.

Hewasbeing an idiot.

He let his arms drop.

Tenny lifted his brows in silent question.

Behind him, Walsh said, “We’ll be the judge of that. Start talking.”

Luis took a deep, rattling breath, and did.

Three

“Do you think he was telling even a little bit of the truth?” Ghost asked, half an hour later.

“Debatable,” Mercy said.

Walsh said, “What he gave us is easily checked.”

“Already on it,” Ratchet called from his laptop, fingers flying over the keys.

“It makes sense, though, on the face of it,” Walsh said. “His story isn’t implausible.”

After Reese had been dragged back – away from harming Luis, and back to his senses, too – Luis had settled, and spun them a tale that, in Walsh’s words, made sense, at least at face value.

Luis’s mother’s second husband, his step-father, had been a cartel boss, though judging by the resentful curl of Luis’s lip, he’d been one with more grace and subtlety than Luis had exhibited himself in his short stint as the new Chupacabras boss. He’d been the one to pay for Luis to leave the country, and attend college in the US. Yale, apparently, which left Mercy muttering about money getting you every-damn-place, whether you deserved it or not.

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