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“What’s your name?” Sade asks in his other ear, as if this were just another Tuesday.
“D-D-Danny,” the man stutters, his eyes rolling back.
“Why do you make things so hard on yourself, Danny? Why give my brother a reason to hurt you yet more?”
“It’s the fucking t-truth,” the man screams, spluttering blood.
“Your truth doesn’t make any sense. Why would you be looking for weaknesses when you’ve basically already infiltrated the mansion?”
Danny grins up at him, revealing bloody teeth.
“We’re trying to understand your defenses.” He gestures with his chin at our surroundings. “And find places like this.”
Sade and I lock eyes for a split second before he continues.
“So you’re preparing a hostile takeover. The Morningstars are preparing for war. They never intended to reach an agreement with us.”
Of course they’re preparing for war. I’ve been saying it ever since Grime and Beast Mode brought me the information that undercover agents would be attending the event. But when I told big bro my theory about Romano getting in touch with the Morningstars behind the Kings’ backs, he looked at me with suspicion. That suspicion deepened when I said the Morningstars would try to fuck Romano over and worm their way in to get vital information to fuel a hostile takeover of the Heathen Kings.
“It’s not Rufus and Raphael you should be worried about,” Danny says, defiance in his bloody grin. “They didn’t just decide to take down the Heathen Kings. It’s an inside job. One of your own sought their help. The bosses only saw an opportunity and took it.”
One glance is enough to see that Sade is thinking what I’m thinking. Romano is hungry for more power. Maybe for making himself leader of the entire organization.
And then he would stop at nothing to make Eva his.
Impatience crawls across my skin as I think about her alone at her apartment. I’ve got the Flaming Skulls watching her building, but I fucking hate the idea of other men stalking her, even if it’s at my orders. So I tug on Danny’s scalp just a little bit more, making him struggle like a death row convict in the electric chair.
“Fuck damn it, muther-ffffucker,” he shrieks, spittle and blood flying out of his mouth. “I told you everything I know!”
Sade’s eyes narrow down on him as his own beast crawls its way up to the surface. “And that means you’ve served your purpose.”
***
Micah
CARLTON’S LARGE HANDS slam into my chest. I stumble over the root of a tree, but I regain my footing in a split second.
“The fuck were you thinking?”
“He wasn’t thinking,” Sade offers, cleaning his bloody weapons while leaning against a tree.
“Yes he was,” Damon puts in like an evil spirit watching from the shadows. “He was thinking about the philosophy professor.”
My fists clench, ready to pummel into their fucking faces. I hate it when these assholes even talk about her.
“Brother’s got it bad,” Sade adds with a grin, sheathing his weapons and folding his arms across his chest. I hiss, ready to spit out flames.
Carlton makes to shove me again, but I’m faster, my hands shooting out like throwing knives. The big guy stumbles backward at the impact, but regains his balance quickly enough. Instead of going at me again, he watches me like a hawk, assessing, calculating.
“Just stop that shit,” Sade cuts in. “You’re two of the deadliest men in the whole fucking country. You took down terrorist groups and drug cartels to prove that. You won’t win against each other tonight, so stop the cock-measuring contest.”
“Worth remembering that we’re a team,” Damon adds in his dark, detached tone. He’s the most recent addition to our team, assigned to us by the Elders after Sade weeded out that useless piece of shit Dogg Wilson for daring to lust after his woman, but we’re still learning about him. Bastard is so mysterious he could give Dracula a run for his money, but I wouldn’t want to lose him even if he did turn out to be a fucking bloodsucker. His combat skills are the shit.
“Damn right we’re a team,” Carlton barks. “And this bastard put the whole operation in danger when he slipped out of the bushes too soon like a rabid bloodhound. He caught one sparrow, but scared off the rest of the flock.”
“We don’t need the flock,” I counter, gesturing with my chin toward the shed. “That one sparrow sang like a nightingale, and he’s gonna sing some more. We got everything we need.” I take another step into his space. “And we got it quickly. Efficiently.”
Carlton and I come chest to chest, facing each other with muscles rippling in our jaws.
