Jemina cost me another set of gloves. Goddammit. I only packed two other pairs.
“What the hell you paralyze me for?!” Jemina yelled. “Fuck, woman!”
“Now you can say complete sentences,” Aviere said, opening her eyes. “You’re lucky I forgot about my gun, Jemina.”
Despite her dilemma, Jemina chortled, then laughed boisterously. “Didn’t expect backbone. Well played, kitty. Now, help Mina up.”
Aviere retrieved her phone and snapped a picture, treasuring the memory of besting Jemina. While her throat stung, Aviere closed the application and waved again to her approaching friend, voice hoarse. “Carry your woman, Joseph. Bitch elbowed my throat and dented my car.”
“You didn’t inject too much poison, did you, Vi?” Joe asked, cradling Jemina’s limp form into his arms. “Jesus, you gained weight, Jem.”
“I stressed,” Jemina mumbled. “Long hours, sí. But never mind. We’re heading home.”
Aviere held up a hand, admiring the drying blood blending in with the gloves. “I’ll pass.”
“Vi, your brothers are staying with us,” Joe told her. “Maybe your presence will stop Limere from driving Jem insane.”
“JJ, nothing stops Limere from pissing your woman off.” Then the Poisoner thumbed behind her, where Travis’ car remained parked. “What about Travis? He’s followed me all day.”
“He follow, but lives close by,” Jemina explained. “Travis wait till morning if he knock on door. Not like I let him in, no.”
Aviere held a hand against her forehead. “Travis doesn’t understand yes or no, Jemina.”
“Aviere. One thing at a time. Head home first, rest. Worry about him in morning. Besides, he file reports, since you’re new to protocol.” Jemina struggled to raise her head, but grinned at Aviere. “Come, stay. We assist, but you fight own battles, sí?”
The dumbfounded Poisoner nodded before Joe headed to the Mako Shark with the incapacitated bruiser in tow. She rested both hands on her breast, gripping the peridot with blood-stained gloved fingers before closing her eyes and kneeling on the asphalt. Tiny stones dug into her knees and flesh, despite the bellbottoms she wore.
Only two days in and I’m wiped, Gunther. Christ, I’m afraid. I almost beat Jemina’s ass over denting Jet’s door.
“Mye.”
Aviere jolted and gawked at Travis’ looming form. A door banged closed from a distance before the Mako Shark started. “Christ, what the hell—”
“I’m impressed. Rodriguez beats people to a pulp.” She blinked at his calloused hand extending to help her rise. When she accepted, Travis trailed his fingers on her throat. “That’s a signature move of hers, but you stopped her.”
“Yeah, ah—learned some stuff from JJ and Gunther.”
“She dented your Ferrari.”
Aviere clenched a fist. “Yes, thank you for reminding me. Listen—I’m heading to Jemina’s for the night. My brothers are staying with them. Give me till tomorrow to recuperate. She claimed you lived close by.”
Travis’ yawn depicted her sentiment, and he rolled his eyes, signaling to the earpiece. “Yeah, thank god. Don’t go anywhere, Mye. We need sleep and tomorrow’s a long day, eh?”
“Don’t address me like your partner. Speaking of, Neuro should get some shut-eye. Jemina mentioned reports, but he can handle them.”
“Peters objects, Mye. Says I should train you.”
Aviere rubbed the huge indentation in Jet’s frame, bitting her cheek. “I’d like to see Agent Neuro on the field—I’ll hold a betting pool. I’d make bank, forecasting how long he’d live against my friends.”
Cerulean eyes glittered at the loud protesting from Travis’ device, but not at the agent’s wincing.
“Mye, stop antagonizing Peters. Sanderson’s stuck him on house arrest with goons driving off his delivery orders.”
“Poor Neuro. Shame he’s hungry. Those reports won’t finish themselves.”
“Mye—”
“Just because you survived Jemina and Joseph doesn’t earn my respect, agent. Anyone can fire a gun and kill. Surviving’s another story.” She relaxed in her vehicle and decreased the volume on the radio. “I’ll re-evaluate my decision if you’re alive after we catch Vinny McSeeten.”
“The werewolf’s right, Mye. He and Rodriguez can’t protect you forever.”
“Don’t call him a werewolf, Travis. If you’re so serious about last names, Joe’s is Randolph. Though, using Joe’s last name leaves a sore spot, considering he disowned his mother.”
“Either way, well done. I’ll call before leaving tomorrow morning, Mye.”
Aviere gazed at the agent leaving the scene and shook her head before starting Jet’s engine. She rubbed her hand against the top of her dashboard and beamed as Travis’ form faded in the darkness.
“If Travis lives, Jet—maybe I’ll start healing after all. But let’s head home, boy. Tomorrow’s a long day and I’ll have to get you repaired again. Goddammit, Jemina.”
As she accompanied her companions out of the parking lot, Aviere turned the volume up and flipped through the MP3s on her USB stick, allowing soft metal music to accompany her on the drive home.
Chapter Ten
The next morning, Travis hid behind the townhouse Aviere temporarily resided in, tapping his foot when his colleague bellowed Spanish curses through the windows. He covered his ears and grimaced when items shattered. The front door opened and footsteps scurried outside, eager to escape the Puerto Rican’s ire.
Travis snickered, pressing his body against the brick home, concealing his presence. The effort proved useful but pointless, as Travis watched Limere shove his shoulder against the barricaded door. Every few seconds, a clicking sound registered to Travis’ ears.
Well, I assumed Dalara’s used to dealing with Rodriguez’s outbursts, but—
Fluent Spanish barked at Limere and Travis recognized Jemina’s usual condescending tone. The mage’s voice remained calm as he countered, progressively raising but never escalating to Jemina’s level. Halfway through his response, Limere’s voice faltered before sounding morose at its conclusion.
The agent controlled his breathing, but raised an eyebrow, curious about the undecipherable conversation. Silence followed Limere’s lengthy statement before something dropped on the floor near a window.
Dalara’s remarks must be profound to rile Rodriguez, but she’ll punch him, sooner or later.
The door opened and the Puerto Rican stepped outside, hair curled in neon rollers and sporting a busty tank top with elastic gray sweatpants.
Travis covered his mouth and longed for a camera to snap a photograph of his uncomposed co-worker.
The exchange continued for another minute before Jemina screamed, straightened her disheveled form and shoved the mage down the concrete stairs, slamming the door before locking it behind her.
Dalara’s one lucky son of a bitch, Lyssa. Rodriguez never walks away from disputes, but preserving our truce with Mye’s vital.
Travis stepped toward the mage, but Limere dusted himself off and leaned against the metal railing, waving to a miniature version of his co-worker at an upper window. Limere’s glowing smile evaporated when the woman snubbed him and sealed the window.
“Damn it, Jem—I’ve dated Celene for five years!” Limere called, jamming a hand in his pocket. “Stop throwing me out the goddamn house! It’s getting old and the neighbors are sick of hearing you whine at me!”
The woman from the top floor opened the window. “Limmy, stop. Mama—”
“If you ain’t gonna tell Sis, I’ll remain on the porch till you quit being bitchy! Jesus… five freaking years, Jem!”
Between Rodriguez and Dalara, Mye’s not so bad. Least she isn’t dating any of Rodriguez’s children. But shit, Dalara’s got balls, dating her daughter. Almost the spitting image of Rodriguez—only skinnier and prettier.
Travis pressed against the wall, shoulder almost splitting the screen to the open window. He averted his
gaze, incapable of tolerating the radiant sunlight and Limere’s silver aura. Three minutes later, Aviere emerged, groggy and slow as she leaned against the top stairwell.
The agent studied Aviere’s drowsy eyes and slapped a palm to his forehead, frowning at her dimmed forest-green aura.
She’s hung over. Jesus Christ, Mye. I’m never leaving you alone again.
Travis walked two steps, but paused when Limere held out his arm to address Aviere. His heart hammered in his chest, hoping the mage didn’t detect his presence. “Shit, I forgot Joe slipped you a daiquiri last night. Seems you slept good, though.”
Mye’s a lightweight, Travis marveled, preserving the tidbit for later. Next grocery trip, I’m stocking up on some wine coolers to curb her wanderlust. She slept, but still woozy. Not acceptable.
“Do you enjoy pissing Jemina off, Lim?” Aviere asked, cradling her head in her palms. “You woke me up. I’ve struggled to wake up, but you made Jemina shriek and curse through the house. Joseph’s tired of buying new dishes. Hell, he’s laughing about your argument, gaming on the Playstation 3.”
The agent withheld a raucous laugh when Limere ran a hand through his dark hair, clasping the red baseball cap in his free fist. “Ah yeah, well… Jem spotted me in Celene’s bedroom after waking her. I forgot about Cel’s classes this morning.”
“Apparently.”
Travis understood hangovers—regretting the liquor he devoured the precious evening. The alcohol quieted the nightmares and Lyssa’s cries while granting him restful sleep to continue their assignment. But Aviere’s frosty cerulean eyes reminded Travis of a past he craved to forget.
The way Mye regards Dalara… it's almost like she’s accusing him of something, Lyssa. Despite Dalara’s assertive tone yesterday, he and Mye don’t get along well.
“I have a message, Sis.” Limere held a finger to his lips and passed her a piece of paper. Then he pointed to her bracelet and the phone in her hand. “Just read.”
Interesting, Lyssa, Travis thought, pretending Lyssa responded as Aviere skimmed the contents before glaring at the bracelet. Perhaps a contact reached her. No doubt they’re hiding from me, sweetheart. But Mye should be more creative.
“Tell Darren I’m running late.” Aviere yawned. “Though, I’m dreading working. Who knows what will happen today, Lim.”
You and me both, Mye, Travis thought, rocking on the balls of his feet. You’re discouraged, despite your fatigue. Where’s the bravado and positivity you radiated yesterday? He clutched his chin, exhaling softly when Limere shrugged. The mage is nervous around his sister, despite his power, Lyssa. Dalara could overpower Mye, but—
“Reese’s meeting with the police and the insurance company. Got the request early this morning, so he left before Joe or Jem made breakfast.” Limere shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at Travis, raising an eyebrow.
Damn it! I suppressed my magic! How’d—
“But I’m sure Reese picked up a McMuffin, knowing him,” Limere went on, waving at Aviere’s darkened glare. “Look, the Baltimore City Police Department called him after my parole officer snagged me yesterday. Of course, the one time I’m straight, the officer remained skeptical, convinced I tried setting up a drug deal.”
“Limere, you tried three times,” Aviere pointed out, resting a hand on her hip. “You pulled it off once till your friend turned you in.”
“Aviere—”
“I remember when you controlled the market for drugs—when our empire thrived from your deals. But the Zodiac Cartel corrupted you, ruined your morals. Once you sold on another don’s district, we needed to arrest you.”
The mask Aviere wore hardened her features and Travis removed sweat from his forehead. Her quick wit and scathing words affected Limere, and he stormed up the stairs, face practically touching her nose.
“No, you didn’t.” Travis almost missed Limere’s whispered, vile tone. “And before you claim anything else, Reese admitted you acted alone, Aviere.”
“Limere, you scared the shit out of me when you blew up an entire apartment complex, thinking speared pigs were running after you.” A sardonic smile spread on her lips. “I loved watching the cops panic, but they almost called the Renegades for an assassination order. That’s why I turned you in.”
Travis recognized the forced smile and clutched his shoulder, ignoring the static in his ear.
Mye…
“Five years. I spent five years in jail, Aviere.”
Well, this turned awkward—what’s Mye doing?
The Poisoner bumped shoulders with her brother before slapping his back. “Sometimes, reminders are valuable indicators to stay the course. You’re doing well, though.”
“Depends on your perspective, Sis.”
“Thanks for scheduling the meeting, Lim. I should leave before Travis intervenes.”
“Eh, your rent-a-agent seems cool.” Keys jiggled in his fist before pointing to a banged-up silver Honda Accord parked next to the townhouse. “Use the Honda. Less conspicuous.”
Aviere’s downtrodden sigh spoke volumes. “Fine.”
“Look, I’m heading to a meeting myself, Sis. But if you’re racing tonight, conserve fuel. We’re moving, remember?”
Travis stared at the sun and gulped twice, shivering at the reminder of Aviere’s speedy driving. He almost blew his cover, but settled for imagining Limere’s senseless body after being whacked upside his head with the Desert Eagle.
“What happened to stopping me, Lim? Even Joseph’s tried.”
“Maybe I know you better than your friends. Besides, Ma would insist, claiming it’s stress relief. So meet us this evening. I’ll accept the blame from Joe and Jem. It’s normal for me.”
I’m not supposed to root for the junkie, Lyssa, but Dalara cares.
Travis met Limere’s chilly eyes again, and he nudged his head in Travis’ direction. The mage’s eyes lingered on his sleepy sister embracing him and nudged his head to the side again. Limere hugged her, shuffling her away from Travis’ position.
I suppose Dalara earned another day with Mye instead of being incarcerated. He’s not selling to children, and he supported Mye yesterday.
As Travis headed down the street, he glimpsed at the black watch, programming it to calculate Aviere’s movements. The watch beeped thirty seconds after Aviere pulled away from her brother. He feigned strolling down the street, keeping his eye on the siblings conversing at the door.
Travis chuckled when Limere braved returning into Jemina’s townhouse, flinching at the screams seconds later.
Dalara’s a glutton for punishment, I swear.
“Limere, you twit. Now Jemina will bitch after flaying your ass.”
They met each other’s eyes and Travis waved, fetching the flip phone from his pocket. He chuckled when Aviere snarled and flounced to the Honda Accord, mouthing curses under her breath. As she hurried away, Travis sent a text message to her phone, expecting a flustered response.
The Accord skidded next to him and she rolled down the window. “I don’t come at your beck and call, Travis.”
“Oh?” He readjusted his hat and chortled. “Seems like it.”
“I’ll contact you when I’m finished, agent. Hard to stage meetings with associates.”
“I should watch you, Mye.”
“You’ll scare my contact away. Wait until I’m done, Travis. Go get breakfast—hell, finish up those reports Neuro bitched about yesterday.”
The thought occurred to him, but Travis’ stomach churned. “You almost died twice yesterday, Aviere.”
“I’ll be fine,” she reassured him. “I’ll text. Honest.”
“Mye—”
She sped down the street before Travis finished his sentence. He banged a fist on his thigh before scuffing his boot on the concrete. As the Honda decreased in size in the distance, Travis’ attention diverted back to the townhouse where Limere again emerged. The mage slouched and jammed his hands in disheveled, ripped jeans, darting his head back and fort
h before sitting on the steps.
I’ll stick around till he leaves. Something’s off about Dalara—he informed Mye about a meeting, yet didn’t disclose details.
As Limere answered his phone, Travis gazed at the cloudy sky, longing for another cup of dark roast coffee. He licked his parched lips before leaning against a light pole and folded his arms across his chest, cloaking his presence before the mage detected him once more. Apprehension grew each fleeting minute, solidifying Travis’ resolve about watching Aviere’s brother.
Limere’s eyes widened at news on the phone and cradled it to his ear, whispering a breathy reply.
Travis rubbed his hands gleefully and forgot about the coffee, focusing on reading Limere’s lips. The pusher hid precious information.
Pounding sun or no, Travis resolved to find the hidden piece before Aviere, solidifying the proof he needed to catch McSeeten’s assassin.
Twenty minutes later, Travis longed for rain to negate the humidity and scorching sun. Even with his wide-brimmed hat, the sweltering heat caused sweat to drip down his face and through his clothing. A bitten nail scratched his hand, then shooed a fly buzzing near his face.
In seconds, Travis noticed Limere rising from the wooden porch step, scanning around before slipping the phone in a side pocket and heading down the street.
The agent resisted resting his hand on the handgun and remained cool, ignoring jeering stares from pedestrians about his trench coat. Lyssa’s gifts strengthened the agent’s resolve, and he confessed his suspicions to his deceased wife, hoping to gain clarity into the situation.
Dalara’s got to be our hitman, Lyssa. His behavior—why would Dalara hide his meeting with Mye? Plausible, considering he’s made drugs and practices in Mye’s business. The killer’s only used poison for his victims, and I’m sure Dalara could shoot if needed.
Travis peered down the street, spotting run-down houses and unsupervised children playing in the neighborhood. When he gazed at a light-colored African American schoolgirl, Travis thought of Maurice, the fashionable brother living with Aviere and Limere.
Turbulence: Book One in The Renegades Saga Page 15