Tonight was a fucking shit show. What was supposed to be a simple mission from some good intel, turned into a shootout with eight dead bodies. Thankfully, they were none of ours but still it was too fucking close for comfort.
Elle added four bodies to her kill count and Marcus and Jace both made their first kill. Joined us on the dark side. I added two more bodies to my roster like it was nothing and for me, it really was. Nothing. It’s hard to be affected by draining the life out of someone when you killed your first person at eight years old. The darkness slides inside of you before you even know what it means. It has been in me for years, growing, festering. I had several unhealthy ways to deal with it, hacking, fucking, hunting, but then Elle came along and gave my darkness a purpose. Now, I don’t have to fight against it, I can let it out and rid the world of fucking rats at the same time.
Being able to share that with someone else is hard to find. I have my brothers but seeing Marcus with Elle, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have someone of my own to relish in it with. But how can someone ever love you if you don’t love yourself?
Everything is quiet right now considering it’s been two hours since everyone went off to bed. I look at the clock and spy that it’s almost 2am. I should probably try and get some sleep, but I just can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.
I have been over the CCTV footage from tonight three times and come up with nothing that we don’t already know. Eight guys were sent after us, after Elle. How did they know we would come? All fingers point to us being betrayed by one of our own. I thought we had more loyalty than that but apparently not everyone believes the same thing we do.
I press play on the footage for the fourth time when my email notification pings.
From: Asher Donovan
To: Lincoln Blackwell
Help,
Here are some files that need decrypting. I trust your skill set can manage that. Be quick about it.
Short and sweet as always with him. Never using more words than necessary except when it involves dishing out threats to protect Elle. I guess he isn’t unlike me in that way. I hit reply and type out a quick message in response.
From: Lincoln Blackwell
To: Asher Donovan
Anything else I can do for you boss?
My reply is petty, but his domineering email fucking infuriates me to no end. Why is it the only person to ever crawl under my skin is a fucking psycho with a devil complex? Before I can even wait for a reply my phone rings and although his number isn’t saved, I know it’s him.
“Dark prince, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” I drawl sarcastically as I answer the phone and he huffs in contempt.
“Are you always so fucking annoying?” he snaps, and I smile at his tone.
“It’s one of my many talents,” I muse.
“Well, let’s just focus on your talent as a fucking hacker tonight, shall we?” he says, in exasperation.
“Ah, so you admit I’m talented?” I toss back, enjoying our back-and-forth way more than I should.
He takes a deep breath, “Lincoln,” he draws out my name slowly and he obviously means it as a warning but all it does is make my skin break out in goosebumps. My name should not sound so good on his lips. It makes me think of other things I could do to get him to say my name like that.
“Relax I will get it done --” the perimeter alarm interrupts me as it starts blaring into my office.
“What the fuck is that?” he snaps.
“Perimeter alarm,” I huff as I quickly type into my computer to pull up the feeds to find four masked men surrounding my home, “Someone’s here,” I growl.
I hear him typing on his side, “How many?” he asks, his tone dark and furious.
I pull up every feed I can from every angle, “Four.”
“Where's Elle?” he snaps, but I can hear the telltale sign of panic laced with his anger.
“She’s in bed with Marcus I will go wake--” I start but get cut off by a loud bang.
“What the fuck is that?” he roars into my ear.
I lock eyes onto the bottom left feed and see smoke and flames as another firebomb goes off. BANG.