by P. Jameson
“It’s time,” Skittles murmured. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes.” She needed to face the demon one more time, and know that he was done.
“You and Fang watch the perimeter,” he told Smokes.
“Sure. I’m ready to get shot again,” Smokes muttered. “Wasn’t so bad.”
Fang shrugged. “You got Nurse Betty out of it.”
Smokes shot him a glare, reaching over to smack the back of his head. “Didn’t get shit, asshole.”
“Whatever.”
“Let’s go.” Skittles gave Nyla a hard nod, and they stepped from the truck to follow Felix and the other Firecats up the walk to the mansion’s front entrance. She remembered the first time she came through these doors. She’d had no idea she would only leave them years later, broken and in the careful arms of a stranger.
Just inside, ten of Bastian’s guards stood alert, each holding guns the size of her arm. Those weapons were trained on the cats as they came through the door. But Felix didn’t even flinch. He wasn’t a Firecat. He was still human as fuck, and he strolled into the enemy’s lair like he was invincible.
The guards ushered them through the foyer and back to Bastian’s office where the bastard didn’t even bother to stand from his massive mahogany desk.
“I can only assume you’re here to make a deal.” His words grinded from his throat, betraying his frustration. “Either that, or you came here to die.”
Felix smiled slowly. “I suppose that’s up to you. My guess is someone in this room won’t make it to sunrise.” The hard glint in his eyes gave Nyla chills. Damn, the man was scary when he tried.
Bastian stiffened, his glare rounding the room until it landed on Nyla and Vegas. “Well, well, well. My favorite Dolls are here.” He stood from the desk finally, and walked around to stand in front of it. “Seven,” he said, grinning smugly at her before turning to Vegas. “And I see you brought me a bonus. Number One, my sweet little trouble maker.” He glanced at Felix. “This is a good start.”
Felix said nothing.
Nyla watched Bastian’s calculating gaze circle the room. She knew Bastian, and she knew how he viewed each of them. Monster, Ratchet. Traitors. The Dolls, his property. Felix… a tool.
A warning chill rolled up her spine as she followed Bastian’s gaze. Suddenly, she knew what he was thinking. Knew what he was going to propose. The deal he was going to offer. She knew it like she knew how to take him down in the first place. Instinct. She only wished she had trusted hers more in the beginning, way back before she was caught in his web.
Her eyes went to Felix as Bastian started to speak.
“We’ve had some good times haven’t we, Alley Cat?” He went to stand in front of their leader, partially blocking her view. “Our agreements have been mutually beneficial. Dare I even say… more beneficial for you and yours on more than one occasion. I wonder…” Bastian crossed his arms, seeming to consider something. “I wonder if it could be that way again.”
Shit.
Felix pressed his lips together. She couldn’t read him. What was he thinking?
Bastian paced back to the desk, his bum leg not giving much away even without his cane. He sat on the edge, staring hard at Felix.
“You’re a lot like me, cat. You enjoy power. Crave it even. Need it.” He smiled slyly. “Yeah, I know you. And that’s why I’m going to make you the offer of a lifetime.”
Felix narrowed his eyes. “We’ve already emptied your accounts. What can you possibly offer me?”
Bastian laughed, a wicked slippery sound. “You’re not motivated by money.”
“We want you to leave town,” Felix grated. “Go deep into the desert. Find an abandoned island somewhere. Go hang out on a glacier. Don’t give a shit. Just get lost. And never come back.”
Sucking in a hard breath, Bastian let it out slowly before answering. “You know I can’t do that,” he said. “I own this place. This city. You might have alienated me temporarily, but I’m not even close to done.”
Felix smirked. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
“But what I can do… what I am willing to do…” Bastian’s gaze circled the room again and Nyla was acutely aware of the gunmen who ringed the outer edge. “Is offer you a place at my side. We could rule Memphis together. Imagine all that power, all we could do. With your brutality and my cunning, we would own everything. Nothing could fucking stop us. Memphis would be our bitch.”
Felix stared at Bastian, contemplating.
Nyla opened her mouth, wanting to stop this now. Felix wouldn’t do this. Couldn’t do this. There was too much at stake.
But Skittles squeezing her hand kept her quiet.
“All you have to do is tell me how to kill the Firecat. And return my Dolls to me of course,” Bastian added as an afterthought.
Felix lifted an eyebrow, making the scar on his cheek look even more daunting. He glanced at Ratchet, seeming to come to a decision. “Electricity,” he mused. “Electricity seems to be the Firecat’s only weakness.”
Nyla took in the expressions of the others. Vegas looked ill, nervously shifting from foot to foot. Monster was furious, his mangled face twisted with rage as he glared at his leader. And Ratchet… the one who started it all by protecting Marlee… he seemed resigned. Like he had always expected Felix to betray them.
Felix turned back to Bastian. “What will you do with the females?”
Bastian’s triumphant smile made Nyla want to puke. This could not be happening. Skittles wouldn’t let this go. There were three Firecats and Vegas. Even if Bastian could use electricity against them, he would be overpowered first.
The rationalization calmed her. But only until Bastian declared his intentions for the Dolls.
“Kill them,” he said easily. As if it was of no more consequence than flicking a fly off his sleeve. “Oh, I’ll get what I need first. Seven will return my money. One will make more drugs until we’re back on top. Four and Twenty will serve in the same manner. They’re a consistent cash source for us to utilize. Thirteen… well, I never needed Thirteen. She can die quickly. And when we are on solid footing again, we’ll dump them all in the river. Start over new. New playthings. New tools.” He tipped his chin to Felix. “What do you say?”
Felix blew out a hard exhale. “I’m impressed.”
Bastian’s new smile made him look like a shark. “I thought you might be.” He stood to walk back around his desk and settled into his chair, steepling his fingers over his chin. Looking to one of the guards, he said, “Take them to the dungeon. Me and Felix have business to talk. Use the tasers on the Firecat—”
“I’m impressed that you thought that would work. That you’re that goddamned stupid.”
Bastian’s expression turned cold. “Don’t be a fool,” he warned. “You’re outnumbered. My men are tracking yours into the woods as we speak. You won’t be walking away from here.”
Felix slowly approached the desk, placing his palms coolly on the slick wood before leaning in to meet Bastian’s wicked gaze with one of his own. His leather clad torso took up all the space making the Lord of Memphis look small. And for a split second, Nyla saw it. The thing she’d needed to see to believe it could exist.
Fear. Bastian’s fear.
But with another blink, it was gone, his expression hard with rage.
“Do you know who you’re talking to?” Felix seethed. “I’m the king of the motherfucking Alley Cats. Bred to lead, by the Fathers before me. I don’t bow to anyone and I don’t. Play. Second. Especially to a piece of shit like you. What I do… and,” he laughed eerily, “I do it very, very well… is kill. Congratulations, fucker. Today, you get to die.” Looking over his shoulder to Ratchet, he gave the order. “Light it up!”
With a roar so loud, it hurt her ears, Ratchet’s Firecat burst from his body in a blaze.
In a split second, Felix found her gaze and held it. She read his lips as he whispered, “For Skye.”
One word coul
d describe what happened next:
Chaos.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Skittles wrapped Nyla in his arms to shield her as Ratchet burst into flames. Monster shifted next, followed by Vegas. The Ice Cat came forward, her fur crystalizing with frost that didn’t melt even with the close proximity to the blazing werecats. She could put them out with one roar but she wouldn’t.
Bastian had crossed a line. One that none of their new animals would allow.
He’d made his choice. Now he would pay.
A volley of gunfire lit the office as Felix hopped over the desk and dragged Bastian against his chest like a shield. Nyla screamed, but Skittles knew she wasn’t hit. She was covered. As long as he could stay in his human form she would be protected.
But the shooting didn’t last long. With one fiery roar from Monster, Bastian’s men scrambled, running from the office. Ratchet chased after them, blowing flames from his mouth, while Monster went to setting everything ablaze. The heavy drapes that covered the windows caught fire first, billowing thick black smoke. Felix coughed, sucking in a hard lungful and Bastian took advantage of the distraction, reaching for his cane to use as a weapon. He managed to good whack to Felix’s temple, opening up a vicious gash that immediately bled crimson.
Skittles pushed Nyla toward the Ice Cat, not stopping until his mate was pressed against Vegas’s frozen fur. He met the cat’s blue eyes. “Get her to safety.”
The Ice Cat dipped her white chin, giving him her vow and then nudged Nyla toward the exit.
“Wait,” she cried, reaching for him. Gripping her neck, he pulled her close and kissed her hard, promising to do it again later.
“Go,” said. “I’ll be right there.”
Nyla nodded, expression troubled. With one last look at the man who had hurt them all, she let Vegas lead her out of the mansion. Just in time, because the walls were on fire now, the ornate wallpaper bubbling and peeling with the heat. Above them, the ceiling was catching. The books on the bookshelves. Bastian’s fucking expensive paintings. All of it was beginning to burn, and Monster wasn’t slowing down. Roar after roar, he shot fire. Burning the door to the underground hallways, he ran through it, and Skittles knew he was headed for the dungeon.
Yessss, his own beast chuffed. Burn it all away.
Burn the shit out of it.
Skittles turned his attention back to Felix where he struggled with Bastian, and commanded his Firecat from his body. He exploded into flames, giving the beast the freedom it wanted.
The old man was stronger than he looked, but Felix had him in a chokehold, one move away from snapping his neck. Skittles would take it from here.
He prowled over to them, relishing the way the expensive carpet caught fire beneath his paws. He found his leader’s gaze, and growled, tipping his flaming chin toward the exit. Go.
But Felix only smiled. That psychotic toothy grin that had always filled Skittles with fear. Like he had nothing to lose. Like he wasn’t afraid of shit.
“I’m seeing this to the end,” he said, tightening his hold on the struggling crime lord. “You go. Burn this place to the ground and then take care of our females.”
No. Skittles snarled his disagreement. And as if to emphasize his feelings on the matter, the first part of the ceiling gave way, sending flaming chunks of paneling to the ground around them. Felix hissed as an ember landed on his hand.
Skittles growled, pawing at the floor to get Felix moving. But the man just shook his head.
“Ratchet said it best. Fried Felix would save you all a lot of trouble.”
Was he fucking joking? Shit.
A warning rumbled from Skittles’s chest as black smoke filled the space causing Felix and Bastain both to choke. For the first time, Bastian looked truly afraid as he clawed desperately at Felix’s arm, trying to get free.
Skittles hoped the man was thinking of the ones he had held captive, and how that desperation might have felt to them.
“Go, goddamn it,” Felix boomed. “That’s an order. Let me do what’s right for fucking once.”
Felix knew what the others had been too hesitant to say. He knew what the Firecats knew deep inside…
Bastian would never stop. He would hurt and harm all his days.
Nyla thought they wouldn’t have to kill him. But she was wrong. Someone had to. And it was going to be Felix.
He was doing this for the Dolls. For any person who’d be unfortunate enough to encounter Bastian in the future. And most importantly, for the good of the clan.
Noble.
More debris fell from the ceiling as the fire roared on.
“Please… please.” Bastian’s hoarse pleas were music to the Firecat’s ears. But there would be no saving the man. The fire had spread too much.
He had made his choice.
Skittles met his leader’s determined gaze.
And Felix… Felix had made his.
Let me do what’s right for fucking once.
If this was the way he wanted to go, no one on earth would be able to stop him.
Skittles lowered his burning body until it was prostrate on the floor beside the two humans. One last bow for a leader who had done so much wrong… only to find himself in his very last moments.
Felix gave him a hard nod. “Take care of my girl.”
I will.
And then the Firecat bounded from the room as it began to crumble.
***
Nyla stood near Vegas, the chill of the Ice Cat seeping into her bones even though the fire from the mansion was hot enough to make her sweat. They were on the lawn. The same one she’d ran across one night long ago when she’d thought she was being rescued. The same one she crossed again to return to the dungeon and face her captor. Now it was barren except for the clan who watched the place burn.
No sign of Bastian’s men. They’d all run for the hills.
No sign of the Fire Department coming in for a rescue.
No one cared if the asshole died.
It was always going to come to this, she realized. She didn’t need to seek out vengeance. People like Bastian will always, always get what’s coming to them. In time.
It was the waiting that was hard for their victims. It was the waiting that was unbearable. The waiting on justice to show up.
But sometimes while you’re waiting… you learn how to forgive. Or at least how to move on. How to be free. You learn that, and when justice finally arrives, you don’t need it anymore. It isn’t for you.
It’s bigger than that.
It’s for the good of the world. The whole.
Shifting from foot to foot, Nyla watched the front entrance, looking for one in particular. One who wouldn’t survive the roaring blaze.
Felix. Where was he?
He wasn’t out of the house yet and it was starting to crumble. The groaning of stressed wood echoed in the night. And with each crash and explosion that reverberated from inside, she cringed, hoping like hell he’d make it out.
For Skye.
The words haunted her.
He’d known exactly what he was doing, playing Bastian like he did. She was even sure he had planned to burn the bastard from the very beginning.
The front doors of the mansion were on fire now, the opening blazing so hot that surely nothing human could make it through. As if to emphasize her point, a burning lion bounded through the flames and across the drive to join the other two cats as the estate was reduced to cinder. Skittles. She knew by the scorching emerald gaze that drilled into hers.
Relief swept her. He was safe.
And still, no Felix. No Bastian.
“Where’s Felix?” Her voice worked, but she couldn’t hear it past the buzzing in her ears and the sound of the fire. “Where is Felix?” she yelled louder, but no one listened. “Felix? Where’s fucking Felix?” she screamed this time as she ran forward, Vegas on her heels.
Skittles shifted to human before she could reach the Firecats. “Stay back!”
N
yla skidded to a stop, the heat from the blaze feeling like the worst sunburn. “Where is he? Felix?”
Skittles expression was grim. “Inside.”
The Ice Cat snarled and started for the flames. Yes, of course. Vegas could save him.
But Skittles ran ahead of her, his hands held out for her to stop. No. What was happening. “He wants this.” The ache in his voice was obvious. “He’s got Bastian, and he’s going to make sure he burns.”
No.
He didn’t need to do this. Bastian would burn anyway. With or without Felix.
For Skye.
Oh… no. It was about more than just hurting Bastian, wasn’t it? More than revenge. More than justice even.
Felix wasn’t just making sure she was safe from the crime lord. He was making sure she was safe from him. The brutal, selfish man that he was.
Vegas pawed the ground, turning the pavement slick with ice. But there was nothing for any of them to do. Nothing except watch as one of them burned along with one of the worst.
Chapter Twenty Eight
The fire was fucking hot, blistering my skin as I watched Skittles bound away from me. I always assumed I was going to hell, and the burning inferno of Bastian’s office met all those expectations.
The air was getting thick with smoke. It billowed from the basement door, from the wide double doors that led to the foyer, from the crumbling ceiling above.
It meant I only had minutes to do what I needed to do.
It also meant Bastian was getting desperate and hard to hold on to. He grunted, twisting this way and that, to free himself from my hold.
Fat chance fucker.
But I did give him some slack, loosening my grip on his neck. He took the bait, ramming his head backward to crush my nose. Wet blood trickled down my lip, and I let him go to reach for his cane. The thing was hard, probably hickory with a steel core, and topped with a heavy polished metal skull. Two diamonds made up the eyes of the head.
Bastian crawled away, struggling to get to his feet. But I was faster.