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"Send them up," I say.
Artie's not dumb enough to contradict me, but he does hesitate for a split-second.
"Send them up," I tell him again, nodding so that he knows I understand his reticence. If only he realized how convenient this visit is.
I need to blow off a little steam.
"Yes, Hades," he says, and a few minutes later, a commotion sounds from the drive. Gravel scatters beneath squealing tires, and car doors slam.
I already know what this is about. A week ago, one faction of the Sokolovbratvaasked the Syndicate to deal with another faction. We did—and they didn't pay up.
So yesterday, I sent some of my people to deal with the matter: they killed one of the original faction's men. A low-level soldier, but a warning nonetheless.
And yet somehow, I don't think they're here tonight with their tails between their legs and the money they owe me.
Excusing myself with a nod, I leave Aurora and her parents under the eyes of two house guards and I go out myself to the front steps just as four men spill from two vehicles.
Their leader sneers. "Hey, sweetheart. We have a message from our Boss."
How predictable they are.
Ever since I revealed myself as not just a woman working for Hades, but Hades himself, some of the men in this city's underworld have had difficulty coming to terms with my sex. Iexpected it. Even hoped for it. And it happening here tonight is perfect timing, because I am full of pent-up irritation from letting Jimmy Verderosa sit at my table and eat my food.
I descend slowly, savoring the looks of dawning wariness on their faces. "A message?" My voice rings out, deceptively calm. Inside, I'm alive with coursing danger. With purpose. "Then give it to me."
They all glance at each other, and the leader gives a nod to one of them, who springs into action. But when he rushes at me, I slide around his blow, catching his wrist and using his momentum to throw him headfirst into the stone balustrade next to me. The noise of his skull crunching makes the others hesitate.
Their mistake.
I close the distance to the next nearest in two steps, disarming him with a vicious elbow to the temple. The knife he held falls into my hand instead, and I slide it into his neck, smooth as warm butter, then slip behind their so-called leader, pressing the blade to his throat just firmly enough to draw a thin line of blood. He freezes, watching his compatriot bleed out, choking, next to him.
"I'd really enjoy killing all of you. But Ijusthad the driveway washed down from the viscera of the last fools who tried this." That's quite true. A pack of Sokolovs turned up like this just two nights ago, looking for payback for the original killings. Unfortunately for them, Lyssa happened to be the one who came to the door instead of me. "So go and tell your master to come to the dance himself next time, because I'd be delighted to separate him from his cock. Now get out of here, before I change my mind about letting you live."
I release the man with a shove, sending him stumbling into his surviving brother's arms. They each scramble into a car and speed away, tires fishtailing in their haste.
I mount the steps once more, and hand the knife to one of my house guards. A single crimson drop stains the cuff of my white shirt. Ah, well. Mrs. Graves does like a laundry challenge.
"Clean that up," I tell the door guards, thumbing over my shoulder at the bodies, and they jump to obey.
Inside, Aurora and her parents have come into the foyer, and for a moment I'm sorry that they seem to have witnessed it, since the front doors were open. Jimmy and Sylvia are dumbstruck. But Aurora…
As I approach, her expression looks something like awe.
Seizing the moment, I step close, pitching my voice low so only she can hear. "In my world, power is the only language that is understood. Remember that, Aurora."
She blinks those fathomless eyes up at me, and I know my message was received and understood.
Turning briskly, I address her parents. "An unfortunate ending to our evening, but perhaps it's time for you to take your leave." To Sylvia, I soften my tone. "You may return soon, with proper notice. But he—" I point a finger at Aurora's father without looking his way "—will not set foot on my territory again, unless he wishes to lose his life."
After their departure—silent, fearful—I turn to Aurora again. She showed courage tonight, but now she sways on her feet, emotionally exhausted. "I'm sorry if tonight was difficult for you."
After a moment, she says, "It was. But I think…I think it was necessary, too." She regards me for a moment, a tiny crease between her brows. "Thank you, Hadria. For opening up my eyes."
"Go to your room, Sunshine. I can't have you out in the gardens tonight, not if enemies are milling around."
Mutely, she nods and makes her way up the great staircase, disappearing off to her wing of the house. Only then do I blow out a long sigh, rolling my neck to relieve the tension there.
Much occurred tonight that requires reflection. And I think best in my war room, seated on that chair my people like to call my throne. So I make my way there, and I sink into the high-backed leather chair at the head of the room. Then, since no one is here, I sling one leg up over one of the arms, slouching down, and let my chin rest in my hand.
