From France to Russia.
Dakar to Havana.
They operated in shadows so thick even their enemies forgot their faces until they slit their throats in the dark.
And the Butcher, Jean-Pierre, was at the very top of this vicious food chain. A man who wore the skin of a violinist, an aristocrat, and a killer all at once. His blood was a cocktail of cruelty and elegance that made him intoxicatingly deadly.
I took in those Corsican soldiers and something about them felt. . .decorative.
I checked Hiro.
He was already looking in that direction and assessing the threat they posed.
I leaned toward him. “You see anything worth bleeding over?”
He didn’t look at me when he replied, “Those men by the walls? No. They’re lightweight. The Butcher put them there as ornaments. Distractions.”
“That’s what I thought. His version of smoke and mirrors.”
Hiro’s gaze swept the room, slow and unhurried. “The real threats aren’t the ones holding the walls.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Where?”
He didn’t point.
He never did.
Instead, two of his fingers moved at his side. It was an old code, something we’d invented as kids and perfected in these past blood-soaked years since.
A flick.
A curve.
A curl.
The Claws shifted subtly behind us, catching his signal too.
I checked in the other direction.
Hiro’s voice was low. “At least thirty women. Deadly. They’re separated into groups of ten throughout the lobby. Each group has a leader.”
I blinked.
Hiro continued, “The first leader is by the second column. Gold dress. Heels too sensible. Gait’s military. She’s armed under her left side.”
“Hmmm.” I found her and agreed with Hiro.
Her posture was too perfect. And her hand kept brushing her hip.
“The second leader is in the black off-shoulder gown by the champagne cart. Hasn’t blinked in over a minute. Glock in the corset. Modified to be silent and precise.”
Reo glanced that way and then looked forward. “I stay impressed with you, Hiro, every damned day.”
I turned back to him. “And the third leader?”
“Ten feet away on our right. Red gown. Velvet gloves. Just touched her ear like she’s been given an order.”
I didn’t need to ask how he noticed these special assassins that the Butcher had clearly hired for the evening. Hiro didn’t see the obvious. He saw the pattern of things none of us could ever witness, the rhythm, and even the break in them.