Supernatural Syndicate: A Limited Edition Collection of Magical Mafia Stories

by Thea Atkinson

Two hours later, I paced back and forth in The Director’s office, having bulled my way past his secretary.

  “A kid?” I asked without preamble.

  “She’s a monster.”

  “But sir, there is no evidence that the child has ever hurt anyone.”

  His dark eyes narrowed as he watched me, his bushy gray eyebrows furrowing as he frowned. “Calm down, Midnight. We have our reasons.”

  As accustomed I was to obeying his orders, I dropped into the chair across from his desk and took a calming breath. “Okay, then. Tell me your reasons.”

  His eyebrows, always the most expressive part of his face, jumped up in surprise. “You want me to explain myself to you?”

  I hesitated, wondering if maybe I had finally overstepped myself.

  No. I need to know.

  “Please,” I added.

  He leaned back in his enormous leather executive chair, resting his elbows on the arms and tenting his fingers in front of him. To an outside observer, he would have looked perfectly controlled—and of course, he was.

  But I had worked with him long enough, been trained well enough, to feel the tension radiating from him.

  He was definitely irritated with me.

  But for the first time, I didn’t care. If I was going to start taking out children, I had to have a good reason.

  After all, even the boy had not changed yet.

  We sat in silence for a long moment. Very well,” The Director finally said. “These two children? They are the grandchildren of the New York pack’s alpha werewolf. He runs New York, both the city and the state. It’s the largest pack in the country, more a syndicate than a traditional wolf pack.”

  I nodded for him to continue when he raised his eyebrows to ask if I was following.

  “We haven’t been able to get anywhere near the pack alpha. The woman is his daughter, though, and she decided to step away from the family business.”

  “The family business being running the pack?”

  “Think of it more like the Mafia. They have ties to werewolf-run businesses all over the world. They’re tight-knit, ruthless, and willing to do whatever it takes to maintain their control. As far as we can tell, the New York pack stepped into the vacancy left by the human Mafia when state and federal law enforcement began dismantling mob control throughout New York.”

  Untenting his fingertips, The Director reached over to his desk and picked up a Mont Blanc pen, twirling it around and around.

  “Okay,” I said, “but none of that seems like a good enough reason to kill the children.”

  The glance he flashed me was full of irritation, but I held my ground, refusing to shrink in the face of his anger.

  With a sigh, he dropped the pen back into its place on the desk, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the expanse of wood in front of him. “Our plan is to use the death of his daughter and her family to draw him out. The wolf syndicate in New York will want to retaliate. They will send their soldiers out in search of the organization that planned the hit. They’ll find us waiting.”

  “Wouldn’t the death of the parents alone have the same effect?”

  This time, The Director pursed his lips and shook his head, as if I were a child refusing to understand a simple principle.

  “It won’t have quite as big an emotional charge, no. More than that, though, killing the parents and leaving the children alive would mean that the alpha would bring his grandchildren into his organization. Killing their parents will create children who grow into adults with a vendetta. If, for any reason, we are unable to get to the alpha and dismantle the New York pack, those children will grow up to take over. After all, a werewolf pack, like the mob, is a family business.”

  His gaze caught mine, holding me pinned in my seat with an intensity I rarely saw from him—he was always cool, controlled, calm. “Do you really want to have the entire force of the biggest, strongest, richest, most influential, most powerful werewolf pack in the entire world focused on hunting you down—bringing us down?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, then spotted the flaw in that logic. “You don’t think killing his grandchildren will have pretty much the same effect?”

  With a huff, The Director thumped back in his chair. “No. We’ll draw him out, take him down, and take his organization apart, all without leaving behind anyone to grow up into vengeance-obsessed killers.”

  He wasn’t wrong. I knew that. And his depiction of a Mafia-esque werewolf pack with all its resources focused on tracking down the person who killed their alpha’s family members certainly didn’t appeal to me.

  However, I still wasn’t convinced. I wasn’t going to let The Director know that yet, though. Because one thing had become absolutely clear to me during this conversation.

  The Director was determined to make this happen.

  I had never seen him this intense, this emotionally engaged in dealing with any issue

  If I didn’t take the job, he would find someone else who would.

  And there would be other repercussions down the line for not taking the job, I was certain.

  I would have to see what else I could find out—because I was beginning to think The Director’s motives might not be as simple as he was making them out to be.

  To do that, I would have to buy myself some time by pretending to agree with him.

  Slowly, I nodded. “I understand, sir.”

  The tension drained away from The Director’s body. “So you will do the job without any further hesitation?”

  Again I nodded. “Yes, sir. I will go back out there tonight and take care of it.”

  “Excellent. Stop on your way out and let Polly know you need a new car.” He stood, the action a clear dismissal.

  I stood, as well, and headed toward the office door.

  “And Midnight,” The Director called after me.

  I paused and turned to look at him, my hand on the doorknob.

  “Take your time on this. Get it right.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Good. That would give me a little extra time to figure out what the fuck was going on here.

  5

  I tracked Clark down in his machine shop, inside his clean room in the basement of our Manhattan office building, wearing magnification goggles and working on some kind of miniaturized computer chip.

  I waited until he paused, leaning back and surveying his work, before I knocked on the glass. He glanced up over his shoulder and held up a finger. I nodded and waved, then took a seat in the larger machine shop, waiting for him to cycle out through the airlock.

  “Hey, Midnight,” he greeted me. “What’s up?”

  I glanced around, assuming everywhere in the headquarters was bugged. “You wanna go grab some coffee with me?”

  “Sure, I guess.” His gaze flickered almost imperceptibly to one side, letting me know that we were, indeed, being listened to.

  “Polly is getting a car ready for me, so I have a few minutes,” I explained for the benefit of anyone who might be listening.

  “Sounds good.”

  We took the elevator up without speaking, and as soon as we got outside the building, Clark muttered out of the corner of his mouth, “Eyes on us.”

  I didn’t respond, just kept walking until we were a block away and Clark said, “There’s a new coffee shop up here that we haven’t gotten around to putting surveillance in yet. I assume that’s better?”

  “Yes, please.” It was good to have someone in The Organization I trusted.

  Mostly.

  When we got inside the coffee shop, Clark pulled out one of his ubiquitous gadgets and did a quick sweep of us both. “We’re clean,” he said, dropping the handheld cube back into his pocket. “What’s up?”

  “I have some questions about the New York werewolf pack.”

  We got our coffees and took them to a corner table as far away from anyone else as we could get. Quietly, I outlined the situation.

  “Well,” Clark said, “your instincts a
bout The Director are right. He and that pack alpha have a long history.”

  Clark knew almost everything about The Organization. He’d been there since before this Director had taken over, back when The Director had simply been another agent.

  “Years ago, The Director was assigned to take them out, and could never do it. At one point or another, he’s put all his top agents on the job.” He paused. “Never been willing to take out children before, though.” He tilted his head and gave me a questioning look. “You going to do it?”

  I trusted Clark implicitly. I could tell them anything—in part because he was organization, through and through.

  That was exactly why I couldn’t tell him all of my concerns now.

  As far as I was concerned, talking to Clark was talking to The Organization.

  I shrugged and took a sip of coffee to hide any other reaction. “Those are my orders.” I set the paper cup down on the table and made direct eye contact. “I do what I’m told. I just want to know what I’m getting myself into before the shit hits the fan.”

  Clark’s face twisted sympathetically. “If you need to decompress afterward, come talk to me.”

  “I will,” I promise.

  Then I changed the subject. “Any new gossip?” I asked. I rarely saw any other agents. It was good to get Clark’s take on their latest ridiculous antics. His stories were always harmless—the sorts of in-office tales that could be overheard by anyone nearby without endangering The Organization.

  Usually, after a chat with Clark, I felt better. Lighter.

  I would have this time, too, were it not for the knowledge weighing heavily in the back of my mind.

  I was being sent out to murder children because The Director couldn’t think of any other way to get at his longtime rival.

  Polly had my new car ready when we got back to the office.

  Like all our vehicles, it was registered to a fictitious company and would trace back to a nonexistent driver.

  I popped open the glove compartment and found a new ID. Pulling the old one out of the wallet in my suburban-mom purse, I ran it through the garage shredder, then dumped the pieces down the chute into an incinerator.

  Then I was back on the road, headed to the suburbs.

  6

  I checked in on each family member before settling in to wait until they all got home.

  For the first time in years, my heart raced as I waited, but the only outward indication was the steady thump of my fingers as I tapped them against the bottom of the steering wheel.

  Once I was certain they were all inside, I gave it another five minutes, then tucked my Glock into the back of my pants.

  My shirt covered it, but anyone paying attention would see a lump. So I grabbed a jacket, too warm for the season, but otherwise nondescript, to cover it.

  I rang the doorbell and waited, praying to a God I didn’t believe in that The Director hadn’t seen through my ruse enough to send another agent to watch me.

  The husband opened the door. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes,” I said, slipping past him into the house. “I’m here to see you and your wife.”

  “Hey,” he called, reaching out and grabbing me by the collar.

  I had not forgotten how fast werewolf reflexes were, so I’d been counting on this. With one foot, I hooked the door and kicked it closed. “It’s important. Your life depends on it—and so do your children’s lives.”

  The woman rushed into the entryway, frowning.

  “There’s a hit out on you,” I told her. “Pack only what you need and come with me.”

  “How do we know we can trust you?” the husband asked.

  I ignored him, staring into the woman’s eyes. “I’m the assassin sent to kill you. I can get you out of here, but only if we leave now.”

  The woman stared at me for another long moment, and then nodded, spinning around to open a coat closet next to her. “Max, get the kids.”

  “You believe this crazy woman?”

  “I said, get the kids.”

  The husband let go of me and stomped into the main part of the house, shaking his head even as he called the children down from upstairs.

  The woman came out of the closet with two go-bags, already packed. “Is your car safe?”

  I nodded. “For a little longer, anyway. We’ll need to trade out at some point.”

  “Good. Let me get my phone.”

  I reached out and grabbed her hand. “No phones. They’re all tapped.”

  She cursed quietly but nodded. As her children came down the stairs, she forced a smile onto her face. “Okay, kids. We’re going on an adventure.”

  “Oh, God,” Joey, the teenage boy, whined. “Not again. I hate adventures.”

  The mother turned to me. “This is…” She waited.

  I couldn’t introduce myself with my codename. I should have chosen something else, but my real name—the one I had until I was fourteen—just slipped out.

  “Ilsa Deverell. I’ll be your driver tonight.”

  As we drove away from the house, from this one werewolf family’s life, I couldn’t help but second-guess myself.

  I could still kill them.

  But then I glanced into the back seat, where the mother sat with her children, and I knew I couldn’t do it.

  Somewhere along the way, I had decided to walk away from The Organization.

  Then again, it wasn’t really walking at all, was it?

  The Director might have described the New York werewolf pack as being like the Mafia, but The Organization was, too—equally as violent and dangerous.

  Maybe even worse.

  The Organization didn’t let its best assassins walk away.

  No, I would be running—maybe for the rest of my life.

  I hope to hell it’s worth it.

  Taking a deep breath, I pulled out onto the highway and started planning how to get away from the only life I had known as an adult.

  And how to stay alive while I did it.

  Enjoyed this story? Be sure to leave a review for the set. And if you want to continue reading about Midnight’s adventures as she sets out to take down The Organization, preorder Midnight’s Assassins today!

  Midnight’s Assassins

  Ilsa Deverell Book 1

  A monster-hunting assassin teams up with a reluctant werewolf to take down the organization that employed her—assuming they don't kill her first.

  Midnight is the poster child of The Organization.

  Or she would be if anyone outside The Organization knew about it.

  Ten years ago, The Organization plucked Ilsa Deverell out of the latest in a series of terrible foster homes, trained her up to become the perfect monster assassin, and gave her a code name. Ever since then, they've had Midnight's complete loyalty.

  Until now.

  Faced with an assignment she can't bring herself to complete, Midnight begins to question The Organization's goals and motives—and her own role in fulfilling them.

  But no one leaves The Organization. Especially not their best monster-hunting assassin.

  In order to go up against the very people who trained her, she must reach out to the monsters she's spent years hunting.

  Eventually, she will have to face the monster she's become. Assuming she survives the assassins her former employer sends after her.

  For now, she's in a race to uncover the one magical item that can take down The Organization—and she's running out of time.

  Bourne meets Supernatural in this addictive new urban fantasy adventure, perfect for fans of Ilona Anderson, Faith Hunter, Jennifer Estep, K.F. Breene, Shannon Mayer, and Michael Anderle.

  One-click now to begin the chase!

  About the Author

  USA Today, Wall Street Journal, and New York Times bestselling author Margo Bond Collins is a former college English professor who, tired of explaining the difference between “hanged” and “hung,” turned to writing romance novels instead. Sometimes her heroines kill
monsters, sometimes they kiss aliens. But they always aim for the heart!

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