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Pulling my gun from my holster, I push it against the wooden partition. “I’m aware enough that if I pull the trigger of the gun I have aimed at your head, I have enough rounds and time to fill the rest of your little congregation out there.”
“How dare you?!” Coss snarls, and I hear his labored breath seething from him.
Damn. I can just imagine how he must look over there on the other side of the wall.
Silver hair, a grandfatherly appearance that was once a tall, muscled man, but the years wearing his sham of a frock have made him go fat.
“I don’t dare, Coss,” I say and holster my gun. “What is it you wanted? You summoned me and I’ve come.”
“Like a damn demon,” Coss mutters loudly enough that I can hear him, but I ignore the barb. “I was recently contacted by an old acquaintance of mine, and since Matthew and Simon have decided that I’m no longer relevant, they’ve pushed me to your blasphemous self.”
“Which contact? And when did this happen?”
“Daniel Raskatov,” Coss says. “He contacted me last week with some disturbing information.”
Daniel Raskatov, I don’t recognize the name.
“Bratva?” I ask.
“Former Bratva, or at least as former as one can be with them. Ex-KGB, as well. He used to be a supplier for Matthew’s father before…” He leaves the rest unsaid.
He doesn’t have to finish, though. I know what times he speaks of.
He’s referring to before Lucifer took over the reins. Before the powers that be fell down.
“Then what use is he to us?” I ask with a growl.
“I’m not some simpering lap dog, you little shit,” Coss spits out at me. It’s not loud enough for his grannies to hear, but loud enough to show how fucking pathetic he really is.
“Then stop acting like one. Give me the information and I’ll send it up the line. You act as if you’re still a player on the board, Coss.”
“Ah yes, I know your game, Jude.” Coss chuckles darkly. “Same as the rest of Matthew’s little marionettes. Do what your king tells you to do, go blindly into the fray.”
Rolling my eyes, I can feel my little demons begging for just a small dose of happiness. Just a small act of rebellion against the rules. All they want is to cause this old has-been a fraction of pain. Not much.
Maybe just a broken femur bone…
Pushing down my annoyances, I try to keep my tone neutral. “If that’s all, Coss, thank you for the lovely visit.”
“He said you boys royally fucked up with Andrey. You’ve started something you can’t hope to stop,” Coss says.
My voice comes out in a bored sigh. “We’ve endured much worse. We know what we did, and it’s being dealt with.”
A loud uncharacteristic laugh comes out of Coss through the wood wall. So loud and out of the blue, I flinch.
“Then you know shit, boy,” Coss says with anger. “They’ve went and formed a collective with the fucking Yakuza. The fuckingYakuza, Jude.”
That does stop my next words quickly.
We’ve only sparingly dealt with the Yakuza, in part because we thought we burned them out thoroughly a few years back.
I was the one in Japan sending them their messages.
Well, more like delivering them to their doorsteps. Severed heads, cocks and balls stuffed in the mouth. I did things for Lucifer those few months that even now I don’t allow myself to think of.
Those were very dark times for the family.
Coss must sense my inner thoughts for something else though.
