Page 86 of Three
He grabs my hand and starts the pinky-palm stroking, aiming a sweet smile my way.
“Mmm.” The Vulture doesn’t sound impressed. “Whoever you are, Phoenix will kill you and then Ram. They’re as emotionless and as dauntless as a robot.”
I growl again. They can try.
“How about the names I sent you?” Ramiel changes the topic.
“I can’t do that,” The Vulture replies.
“Vulture…” Ramiel sighs. “I found that vintage coke machine you were looking for.”
“Stop hacking my damn laptop!” he grunts, full of annoyance.
“You don’t want it, then?” Ramiel has that impishness in his eyes.
“Glass bottles?” The Vulture still sounds irritated, but also grudgingly interested.
“Yes.”
“I want stock.”
“One truck,” Ramiel grants.
The Vulture raises to, “Three.”
“One, plus a three-month discount on Vintage Manga online.”
The curses coming from the other line are quite colorful. “I might kill you myself if this Phoenix thing turns out to be bullshit.”
I open my mouth to let him know in detail what I’ll do to him if he touches what’s mine when Ramiel snorts. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.”
The Vulture sighs. “A hit was put out on Hunter Penn.”
On me as well? Nearly being run off the road, the shooting, and the mercenaries were actual attempts on my life.
“Together with Malcom Bindy and Norman Jefferson. Jefferson’s is done.”
“Loretta’s father, he died a few days ago.” Was he killed? Opal didn’t say anything about a murder. I thought he died due to natural causes.
“Put out by whom?” Ramiel looks pissed.
“You know it’s all anonymous. But the employer is the same for all of them. Each hit is five hundred K. Wait, Malcom Bindy’s hit was closed as well, and Hunter Penn’s just raised to seven K.”
“Hunter Penn is dead too. Spread the word.”
The Vulture tuts. “You know it doesn’t depend on me.”
Ramiel grits his teeth. “Beau, fucking do it. If something happens to him, Phoenix will not be the most feared out there anymore.”
When he looks back at me, I can see fear and fury gripping his face. I can feel how different everything is now between us. I can’t pinpoint when it changed, but it did. It’s almost palpable in the tiny space separating us.
“You already are one of them. And don’t use my name!” The Vulture mutters before the line dies.
Another chill rolls down my back, and this time, there’s no thrill with it. “Who are you, Ramiel?” I ask him, lowering my voice an octave while holding his stern stare.
“Really want to know? There’s no going back after.”
It sounds like a damn threat. But I don’t fucking care. “Yes.”
