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The Butcher’s smile was audible. “For you? You bet I do.”
“I’m going to need it in a few hours. I don’t want to bring any more guests to my house, if you get what I’m saying.”
Casen’s reply was thick with the kind of pride a father would have for his son. “Well, I’ve got plenty of room for your guests here.”
“See you soon.”
“I’ll make sure their stay is comfortable,” Casen joked. He hung up, a wheezing laugh crackling through the speaker.
Malakai rubbed his hands together with excitement. “I’m starting to like being friends with you again.”
“Friends is a generous word. I still hate your guts.”
“Likewise, you stupid prick.”
As Darien shook a line of Stygian salts onto the lid of the centre console, Malakai got out his bottle of Venom and dripped a couple drops into each eye. Darien shut a nostril and snorted the line through a rolled-up banknote, sinuses tingling as the black grains shot up into his skull.
When the Butcher had offered his assistance to Darien at the Doghouse, Darien had made the decision to take him up on that offer, using a room in the warehouse that housed the Chopping Block for any kills that were especially gruesome. He never wanted to be the reason Loren ran out on him again, never wanted to scare her away. And even though she wasn’t at Hell’s Gate right now, it was better to prepare for the moment when she did come back, especially because his week away from her was nearly up, thank the gods. No more blood would be spilt in the place they called home, not unless the situation absolutely called for it, and not unless there were no other options.
Aside from that, Gaven knew where their house was. And if anything went awry, or if any of his men had been assigned to watch their neighborhood, Darien wouldn’t chance being seen.
The single warlock on the watch was who they would take. Hopefully his mind would be susceptible to their magic.
They wouldn’t kill the guy; it would draw too much suspicion from Gaven. So they would need to get their answers from him and then wipe his memory of the night’s events. Dump his ass out back of a bar, maybe. Make it seem like he got beat for talking smack while drunk.
As soon as the salts had burrowed deeply into his bloodstream, making him feel buoyant and overly alert, Darien swept the rest of the grains onto the floor of the car and took his phone out of the cupholder. He found Tanner on speed dial and hit CALL.
Tanner picked up instantly. “Hey.”
“Ready?” Darien asked.
“Cameras are cleared. Spells are still on, so I hope you don’t need to go inside the building.”
“Not today. We’ll come back when we’re done and return the briefcase then.” It was still at Hell’s Gate. Arthur had come to the house to check out the aura magic trapped in the cylinders, bringing an assortment of equipment with him, mainly microscopes and books that were so old they were falling apart.
“All clear, then,” Tanner said.
“Thanks, Tanner.” He hung up and looked at Malakai. “Ready?”
Malakai opened his door, eyes like black pits. “Let’s go.”
They operated the same way as last time, Darien taking the men on one side of the building while Malakai took the other, disarming and knocking them unconscious before the men could get a look at their attackers. Creature flew overhead, chirping to them through the Spirit Bond to let them know where the rest of the guards were, since the spells on the building kept them from seeing through the walls.
As Darien disarmed the last hellseher with a blunt hit to the side of the head, Bandit’s misty voice drifted into his thoughts. Why does Creature get to help?
Darien pushed the stray locks of hair out of his face. Because he’s smaller and less noticeable than you.
I don’t like him anymore, Bandit grumbled.
Darien met Malakai on the right side of the building as the warlock—their target—was making his rounds on the left.
“Let’s go around back,” Darien mouthed.
They moved quietly, hurrying to the back of the warehouse. Their footsteps were inaudible on the grass, their magic forming walls of quiet on all sides of them.
Creature fluttered over to perch on a security camera. Three steps.
Darien and Malakai waited side by side, so close to the corner of the building that the warlock would stand no chance of seeing them, no chance of turning and bolting when he came face to face with them.
