Page 137 of Craved

They spoke in low voices, but I heard every word from where I crouched on the roof in the darkness with the slayer called Reaper.

Tomas Mraz had staked Prima Tremblay, and in retaliation, my father had sent Tomas to his final grave.

Which made no fucking sense, unless what I’d been told was true.

Karoly Kral was purging the Syndicate of some of our best men. First Andre Redbone, the kapitán of the Louisiana Coven. Now Tomas, his lieutenant.

Just as Reaper had warned.

Father emerged from the restaurant alone. He strode into the courtyard, rapping orders at his people.

Where the fuck was Rafe? Ice coated my insides. My fingers tightened on my dagger.

Reaper had said that my brother had escaped Philippe’s dungeon, that he’d be at this meeting as well.

He’s okay. Somebody would’ve said something if he’d died.

Ever since Zoe Tremblay’s phone call, I hadn’t been able to sleep more than a few hours a day. Whenever I closed my eyes, I pictured my younger brother sold into blood slavery. Fed from against his will, as I’d been.

Black crept over my vision.

Reaper nudged me. “Now d’you believe me?” she asked, low-voiced.

I dragged a breath through my teeth.

“Zaq?” She glanced at me.

I shook my head, unsure what to believe.

“If you don’t stop Karoly, Rafael and Gabriel are next. If your father hasn’t already staked them.”

I growled. “You don’t give a flying fuck about my brothers.”

The skin around her eyes tightened, a small flinch that I caught only because I was coming to know her. You’d think I’d hurt her feelings, which was bullcrap.

Because we both knew the truth.

Slayers, Inc. wanted Karoly Kral in his final grave, and I was the chosen instrument. Me and my brothers were simply collateral damage—or maybe we were the bonus round, I wasn’t sure.

Reaper had brought me to New York, but before I acted, I’d insisted on proof. My father could be an ice-cold S.O.B., but he’d strong-armed the Kral Syndicate in to accepting Gabriel, Rafe and me as his heirs. It didn’t make sense that he’d try to take us out now.

I swallowed sickly. Damn it, why had I hesitated? If Rafe was dead, I’d never forgive myself.

It didn’t matter that when Philippe had released me, I’d been too damn weak to even lift a fork to feed myself. I should’ve donesomething.

Rafe walked out of the restaurant, an arm around Zoe Tremblay.

Every muscle in my body locked.

He was alive. Thank all the dark gods, he was alive.

“Karoly must have a reason for not killing him yet,” Reaper said in an undertone.

“Like what?”

Reaper shrugged and scanned the busy street below, patiently waiting for me to make up my mind. She was good at being patient.

People said I was the nice Kral. The easy-going, bleeding-heart Kral.

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