Page 14 of Savage Possession
The fucker has his hand hovering near his piece, but I see the tremor. The Vultures might be mean, but they’re not fearless. They know if I put a bullet in them, their bodies disappear.
“Better yet, did you lose something?” My voice cuts through the night, low and mocking.
He sneers, glancing past me at Isa, who stands defiant in her ruined dress. “Give us the Fontaine bitch, Draven, and we’ll leave you in one piece. No harm, no foul.”
I bark a laugh, letting the street swallow the sound. “Those are big words for the likes of you given where you are standing.” I shake my head slowly. “Nah. Doesn’t work like that, man. You crossed a line. And you brought your boys for backup? That shit is what gets you in a grave and you know it.”
One of the Vultures pipes up, voice cracking under bravado. “You ain’t got nobody here who’s gonna help you beat six guns to your one, Ash. Be smart. Give our prez his bitch and we’ll be on our way.”
He’s swinging his gun like it’s a laser pointer and we are at a corporate meeting.
I ignore the idiot and address the only one of the Vultures who has half a brain. “Grudge,” I say, flashing a wolfish grin, “maybe you should reconsider.”
With a slow, deliberate motion, I shrug off my cut just enough to flash my holstered weapons beneath my arms. My favorite pieces. Polished steel. Heavy, reliable. Gifts from Reaper for my birthday a few weeks back. I’ve been eager to try them out.
“Reaper says the hole these girls leave in a man’s chest is big enough to put your fist through. I’ve been curious to test the theory. Who wants to volunteer?”
A hush falls. Even the cicadas and frogs go silent.
Isa, bless her wild heart, is still behind me, but I feel her small hand slide under my shirt. Skin on skin distracts me for a minute. Her touch is warm and steady.
“Angel, take the phone out of my back pocket. The security code is nine, eight, two, five.
I feel her take the phone.
“Okay.”
There’s a soft tremor in her voice. I keep my eyes on the danger in front of me.
“Pull up a guy named Storm and give ’em a call and put it on speaker, woulda?”
“Done.”
I hear the faint hum of the call going through. “Storm’s on the line,” she whispers, holding the phone high.
“Good girl.” I throw a wink over my shoulder and tell my brother the problem in a nutshell. “So. Um…I just kidnapped a Vulture bride. Long story. Shit is about to go down.”
I could laugh if it weren’t so fucking real.
“We’re in front of the bookstore and they think I’m going to give her back. If you don’t hear from me in a few, you might wanna check on me.”
“Okay, angel.”
She ends the call while I keep my eyes glued to Grudge’s twitchy hands.
“You sure you don’t wanna reconsider your stance, Grudge?” I call out, tilting my hand so the streetlight glints off my gun. “Ride away, and I might forget you crossed Savage territory. Stay, and my Prez will hear about it. Remember the last time he paid you a visit? How many men did you lose that night?”
Grudge’s hands clench around the handles of his guns, and his men shuffle nervously. They remember the ones who met Reaper’s wrath and didn’t make it. And the ones who did can’t walk properly after a couple of bullets to their kneecaps.
Don’t judge. They had it coming.
“You’ve got my bride. That makes her my property. I can cross any line I want to get her back.”
“Actually, no, you can’t.”
A new voice slides out of the darkness behind the Vultures, smooth and beautifully lethal.
“Fuck brother. I didn’t think you were ever gonna step in and give me a hand.”
