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"Kiss my ass, Rider. I'll tell this octopus freak what I want to tell him and then he can fuck off."
I bristle at the disrespect, but my father told me to make peace even if I had to kiss their asses. We could kill themafterwe get the damn guns, he told me. I take those words to heart as I keep a smile plastered on my face.
"I’m Cheveau," the leader says. "Son of Farad."
Oh.Well, since his old man is probably either in a coma by now or going insane from staying awake too long, I understand why he’s pissed. There's just one thing that doesn't add up for me.
"How’s he your father? I thought Sluagh were the unforgiven dead. It's rare for someone to forsake the afterlife to roam this poor human world as a fiend like you do."
He shows me green teeth in a fearsome grimace. It makes me want to schedule a dental cleaning.
"We died together during the Fae war," he tells me. "And we both refused to go on. We vowed to roam the world together. Until you destroyed his mind, Fabien Nightshade."
I shrug.
"Hewastrying to kill me. But if you want an apology, I'm sorry."
"Sorry?No, you're not sorry yet, Nightshade. But you will be. You'll be really fucking sorry."
Zedona clears his throat.
"This kind of bad blood isn't good for business, Cheveau. We all liked Farad, but he attacked my son here."
"Your son? Is that some kind of joke?"
"He married my daughter."
Cheveau looks from Zedona and back to me like he thinks we're fucking with him. Finally, he shakes his head in disgust.
Someone behind them claps.
A figure steps out from behind the mausoleum and heads our way. Both Kyran and Zedona tense up. The Sluagh don't miss it either, they all tense up, too.
These kinds of meetings, it's always three on three. Introducing a fourth guy means someone is outnumbered. And outgunned. But I recognize the asshole clapping, and I hold up a hand to the other two men to let them know to ease up.
This guy is a killer, all right. But he isn't about to attack us right now. That’d lead to open war between the families. And right now, we're both keeping the war cold. We hate each other's guts, but we're not killing each other on sight.
The Fae who steps out is Anton Michael Oleander.
The Oleanders have tried to kill me a few times, but they’ve managed to cover their tracks. We couldn’t tie any of the assassins back to them.
Yet.
Anton is second in command of the biggest crime family in Chicago, and our family's most dangerous enemies in Faerie. They're the ones trying to crush us under their thumb, and doing a good job of it so far.
They’re the ones we need the guns to fight.
They're also the ones who killed my brother Jarrad and shackled me to my current life as my father's second. Jarrad was born for the job, and that's probably why they murdered him.
Just seeing one of them makes me want to kill him. He seems to be able to sense my ill intent, because he grins at me as he gets closer. His eyes are full of mockery when he talks.
"You married a human, Fabien? Doesn't it scare you a little, wondering whether your kids will come out with fingers or fins?”
He laughs, and the Sluagh join in.
"It's a good thing it's you, and not your brother. Your father would be waiting a long time for water to come from that well, eh? Jarrad wasn't putting his seed anywhere it might take root."
Even the Sluagh don't laugh at that. A tense silence fills the air. But I smile and wave it off. Let this scum talk about my brother. I've held my rage for ten years, since they killed him. I can hold it a little while longer.
