Page 39 of Savage Hunter

“What’s got everyone worked up? Rage okay?” His heart monitor is still going off so I know he’s not dead. I nudge Bear’s shoulder and the older man turns an aging face up to mine. The honorary Savage has seen things and then some. He’s not a talker and I like that about him. He just states facts and moves on.

“Long and short of it is Persi’s stepfather is holding her sister and her newborn baby captive at some hidden compound in the middle of nowhere. And Ghost’s daughter is out there and they fear the Society has her or will at some point.”

Shit. Ghost died trying to protect Rage, so that leaves a lot of shit on the table to take care of for him. “Castel is Persi’s step-father?”

Bear shakes his head, crossing his barrel-sized arms across his equally round chest. “Nah. Castel was her father. Cortes is her step-father and is creating some big waves. Have you heard of the Castel cartel?”

Fuck. This is not good. Heard of them. I’ve put bullets in their men, others in graves and had a few put bullets in me. But it’s been a while since I’ve had any run-ins with them. Being the enforcer for the Lords of Chaos back in Chicago put me in some dangerous situations I thought I might not make it out of.

“A bit, yeah. Castel is a ruthless motherfucker who kills anything he can’t possess.”

“He’s dead according to the new girl.”

“That so?” Plot twist.

“Her step-father has taken over, and she says he’s worse.”

“Isn’t that how it always goes?”

I didn’t realize I should know all of this, but I try not to get too deep into other people’s business until I am forced to make it my business. Finding Rage and getting him home was one thing. Mission accomplished. I should find Harmonia, get her on the back of my bike and point us toward Chicago. Not entertaining the ideas running through my head.

Bear grunts and pulls out a cigarette and lights up. He takes a heavy drag and rocks back on his heels.

I pay little attention to the bob and wave of a blonde head until a pissed off Fergie is standing in front of us.

Two red-tipped fingers pluck the lit cigarette from a flustered Bear’s lips. She mirrors her husband’s scowl for a second and then Fergie snatches it out of his mouth and crushes it under her boot heel. “Oxygen tanks, baby. You gotta be careful or you’ll blow us all to hell.” Their hands slip together like they’ve been locking fingers for decades. Because they have. The silent sign of affection has me wanting to find Harmonia in the fastest way possible. There’s a clear path between me and the stairway. I take a step in that direction but stop.

Shit.

Before I can get out of here, I’ll need to talk to Ares. I spot his black head of hair but he’s locked in on all sides. I signed on to help the Savages for as long as they needed me. Now that rage is safe and home, I can get back to my life. What that looks like anymore, I don't know. With any luck, I can convince Harmonia to come back to Chicago with me. Or I stay here, I guess. Either way, she’s not leaving my side. Never again.

“You look like your head is someplace else. What’s on your mind, son?”

I angle my head toward Bear. My gut is in knots, my nerves are jittery and I need to find Harmonia. He’s not a touchy feely type that wants to hear about my most inner fears and concerns. Given Bear is a few inches shorter than me I lean back against the metal counter behind us for a more level conversation.

“Piecing together this messed up puzzle. Where is this Cortes guy?”

There’s a dark glint to the old man’s black eyes that has my hair standing on end.

“With Silas.”

My brakes lock. What the fuck did I just hear?

Red enters my vision and the taste of blood washes down the back of my throat. My hands itch for my guns. All I need is the target. “Silas Antonov?” I ask, out of habit rather than the need for confirmation. There are no other Silas’ in the underground realm of crime. Only one. It’s like talking about the devil. You say his name and everyone knows who you are talking about.

“The very one, son.”

Ares’ brother has gone to ground. I know because I’ve been hunting the fucker for thirteen months. I find him; I find the queenpin bitch. Merry-fucking-Christmas to me. I won’t be happy until she’s maggot food and my Harmonia is safe.

“Where is he?” I mentally run through the weapons I have. The rounds left over in my saddlebags. I’ll need to restock.

Instead of answering me Bear juts his chin out and we both listen to the shitshow unfolding.

“I guess I should start from the top.”

Persi holds Rage’s hand as she fills everyone in on how Rage plucked her from the bowels of a cargo ship filled with Society merchandise. Crude and fucking disgusting way to refer to humans being trafficked, but it is the easiest way I know to disconnect my emotions long enough to pay attention to the facts. The web of deceit and crime weaving together the Society, Ares and the Savages, and the Antonovs is getting tricker to untangle. At the center of all the problem, lies one person. One crown—Primrose. The money, the connections and the death all lead back to her and the Society she heads. Finding her is proving to be harder the more the days drag on. Every a person working under her are professional con men who know how to use smoke screens and misdirects like this show is one big magic trick.

I wipe a hand down my face, suddenly feeling tired all over again.

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