Page 39 of Savage Sin

I take the bags filled with lab supplies and secure them in mine. “I’ll make it up to you.” Hopefully with a few heads on a platter and years of peace. “How did you get your hands on the material?”

Reaper shrugs. “My girl has some friends who teach high school. Getting some test tubes and a few burners was no big deal. Where are you going now?”

“To find a kitchen I won’t blow up, I guess.” We clasp hands and shoulders bump.

“Don’t keep Ares waiting. We all want to see you home, brother.”

Reaper revs his bike, and the purr of the motor reminds me of my crew. I miss the calm of a midnight ride through the back roads by the compound. Once this is all over, and providing Ares doesn’t end my life, it’s the first thing I want to do.

Reaper is gone in seconds, the roar of his motor fading in the distance. I trust him to keep this little meeting between us under wraps. He could have brought the entire crew with him, but he didn’t. He’ll respect those two days, which puts a timer on me.

“What would Ares do if he found out you and Reaper are plotting behind his back?”

I spin, guns in my hand in seconds. Disbelief at hearing the familiar voice doesn’t affect my aim. But the lack of light does. I can’t hit the target if I can’t see it. Darkness fills every crevice of the warehouse, so I aim my girls in the direction of the voice.

I pull the trigger. Once. Twice. Metal thuds against cement. If it went through flesh first or not is yet to be determined.

Silence.

There’s no way I am lucky enough to have killed him. Ghosts are impossible to kill, they say.

I step out of the yawning mouth of the warehouse and use the shadows to hide my location. It’s going to feel good to sink my knuckles into his face. Murky movements of black on black catch my attention. Three steps and I’m close enough to smell the fear rolling off the bastard.

I swing.

Hard bone connects with stubble.

“You piece of shit, motherfucker,” I roar. I recognize the head of black hair and the gray eyes immediately. A healed gash tears through the skin over his right eye and slides into a thick hairline. More fists fly. Instinct drives me back just before I catch a set of brass knuckles in the face. Thanks to the full moon and a few shattered windows, I can see the murder in Ghost’s eyes.

“Still doing the enemy’s bidding, I see. How did you find me? Who do you plan on selling me out to? Your puppet masters?” I ask in a hollow tone.

“Reaper made it so easy and you are too predictable.” His words are thick with his Russian accent.

There’s no more posturing or preliminaries. I want blood.

The little dribble of crimson from my onetime brother’s mouth isn’t enough. I want him dead. Just like my actual brother. Anger brews inside me until my vision is pure red. The festering blister inside has been growing for days and tonight it looks like I get to put an end to one of my problems.

I absorb a blow to the ribs and deliver one of my own. “I will see you in a grave,” I snarl.

“You don’t understand. I didn’t have a choice.” There is a plea of understanding in his tone, but I don’t want to hear it. I refuse to hear it. Another blow to the kidneys and Ghost reels backward to stumble into my SUV. I pin him in with nowhere to go. I reach for my gun, aim.

Flashes of red light break us apart. A patrol car rolls into the opposite side of the warehouse and hits us with high beams. Ghost slips away, and I am tempted to chase after him.

Another time, then. My gut tells me this isn’t the last chance I will have at ending his life.

I roar out of the warehouse with a renewed thirst for blood.

Ten

Persephone

Bolts of lightning scatter across the sky. It’s been hours since the rumble of Rage’s SUV pulled out of the drive. Silence can become deafening this far out from the sounds of cars or horns, so I welcome the roll of thunder tumbling overhead.

I tug on my ties. Wood groans, but the ties give no slack. But in that small move, I notice Rage made a mistake. He didn’t use the slip knot that grows tighter the more I pull.

“Thank you, baby Jesus!”

It hurts like a bitch, but I use the one trick I have. Tears sting my eyes and I’m sure my entire hand will swell up after this, but with a little force with the help of the ties, I try to pop my thumb out of place.

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