NINETEEN
LYKOS
Salvatore leaned against the edge of the desk in my office back at the villa and crossed his arms, watching me pace.
“You’re wearing a groove in the floor,” he muttered.
“I’m thinking,” I shot back. “Nobody pulls something that clean without backing. This Obsidian Society must have some pull to make this happen.”
Salvatore shrugged. “He got caught, so it couldn’t be that strong of a pull.”
I stopped pacing and looked at him. “This organization knew enough to be dangerous. I suspect the only reason he got caught was because he was green.”
Salvatore’s expression tightened. He knew I was right.
“So, what now?” he asked.
I exhaled slowly and reached for my phone. “Now we ask someone who might know or has heard of them.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Who would that be?”
“Mateo Agosti,” I corrected. “He’s based out of Boston. Granted, he runs the Italian mafia there, but since it’s his home, maybe he’s heard of them or can point me in the right direction.”
The Agosti family was very powerful and ran criminal activity along with the Irish and the Tijuana Cartel. It was the beauty of marriage alliances.
I dialed his phone number, and waited as his line rang twice before a smooth, measured voice picked up. “Mateo Agosti.”
“Mateo, it’s Lykos,” I greeted.
A small pause followed. “To what do I owe this phone call? I haven’t talked to you in ages.”
“It’s been too long,” I agreed. “I need information.”
“Sounds like something’s rattled your cage,” Mateo said. “That’s not common.”
I smirked faintly. “Shipment got hit. Sloppy, but bold. However, I want to know if it’s connected to something bigger.”
“What does that have to do with me?” he questioned.
“The captive mentioned an Obsidian Society,” I said, my tone flattening. “Something about powerful families in Boston. Do you know anything about it?”
Another pause followed, and when he answered, amusement crept into his voice.
“Ah,” Mateo said. “Them.”
“So you’ve heard of them.”
“I’ve heard rumors,” he replied. “But not in the way you’re thinking.”
I glanced at Salvatore, who was watching me closely. “Then enlighten me.”
Mateo chuckled softly. “They have nothing to do with our world, Lykos. It’s a circle of very rich men and women, bankers, market movers, people who think numbers are more powerful than bullets. And sometimes they’re right.”
“Sounds like a bunch of cowards.”
“Not cowards,” Mateo corrected. “Detached. They play in stock markets, not streets or illegal shipments. They don’t need blood when they can bankrupt a man before he wakes up.”
I let that sit for a second, then asked, “I’m guessing there’s more to it than just that?”
