Page 23 of Darling Wildfire
While Graham walked around the perimeter, looking through the spaces between containers and up into any spot a sniper might sit, I surveyed the package. I was pretty positive it wasn’t a bomb, Vetticus wouldn’t escalate to that quickly, but it didn’t hurt to be safe. I pulled out my gun, aimed at the box and pulled the trigger.
Graham turned abruptly at the sound and headed back over once he realized it was me. I crouched down over the box and saw blood oozing out of the bullet hole. Across the top was ‘To Kraven’ written obnoxiously large in black sharpie. I took my knife and opened the box, revealing a bloody mess inside.
“What the fuck—” Graham muttered.
Inside was a bloody heart with a knife through the center pinning a note to the organ. I stared at it for a long moment, jaw tight at the message. I gingerly pulled the bloody paper from the knife and pulled my lighter from my pocket, holding the flame to the corner. I dropped it at the last second before the fire took the rest of the note and the ash cascaded to settle in the gravel at my feet. I heard tires squeal behind me and as car doors opened; I rose and turned abruptly, motioning Graham to follow.We headed back towards the SUV as Nyx, Atlas and Lachlan jogged towards us.
“Get rid of it,” I said as we passed Nyx. “Have West pull all security footage.”
“Where are you going?” Nyx asked.
“Demetrius wants to see me,” I said over my shoulder.
This time I climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled out of the docks a little too aggressively, causing the tires to scream around the first corner, giving away my irritation. Graham was silent all the way to the freeway before he spoke.
“Who sent that?”
Silence.
“His name is Vetticus.”
“Why didn’t you show the note to Nyx?”
Silence again.
“Nyx will understand the message without the note.”
I tapped the steering wheel with a finger, trying to control the intense anger at the sight of that note. I didn’t want Nyx and Atlas to see it—the heart alone would be enough of a message for them. Besides, the note was for me. It was him claiming me all over again—ensuring I remembered who I belonged to.
You are mine.
No. Not anymore and I was going to make damn sure he never touched any of us again.
A short drive later we pulled up to Elysium. The club sat in the bustling downtown area on a trendy street filled with restaurants and a vibrant nightlife. It was the perfect mix of a high end speakeasy with a gentlemen's club undertone. We used it to launder the money from our illegal dealings and had several around the world. This one turned into Nyx and Atlas’ special project and I had to admit they’d done a fantastic job. So much so, Demetrius came to me once it was done and asked to have offices there. I wasn’t lying when I told Graham we went way back—Demetrius was one of my longest clients, turned business partner and now friend.
I led the way through one of the back hallways into the main space. Demetrius was leaning against the bar, looking every inch a mobster. He was wearing a tailored gray suit with his tattoos spilling out from under the cuffs and onto his hands. He turned as we approached, a smile breaking up the intensity of his features.
“Theron, my friend,” he said. He was a handsome man around my age, with carefully styled black hair with a gray streak running along one side and a muscular, six foot four frame. There were three deliberate knife scars that ran through one eye, turning it white, while the other was a whiskey color that looked nearly gold.
“Demetrius,” I said, smiling and clasping his hand before embracing him. Stepping back I gestured to Graham. “This is Graham Wolfe. Demetrius Volkov.”
“Ah, another wolf—” He said, amusement in his eyes as he extended his hand to Graham. They shook hands as Demetrius gave him a once over.
“Theron told me all about your adventures and how you got Kaelin out of the Warren. Nasty business.”
“It was,” Graham answered. “Volkov—are you related to Viktor and Konstantine then?”
Demetrius nodded. “Viktor and Kon are my brothers. Theron has a habit of collecting misplaced soldiers if you haven’t noticed.”
Graham looked over at me. “So Kaelin was being protected by the Bratva while we were on the Red Rabbit job?”
“Indeed, she was in good hands,” Demetrius said in amusement.
“So, why’d you call me, my friend?” I asked.
Demetrius’ face fell, and he gestured towards the back. “Let’s go into my office.”
I followed Demetrius upstairs and down a narrow hallway before we entered a spacious office. Once seated in leather chairs in front of his desk, Demetrius handed me a manila envelope with‘Kraven’written in sharpie.
