by McGill, Brie
Deimos observed the situation in horror, hands smashed against his face. “Brother, is he—”
Phobos wheezed.
Orion shook his head.
Nero, the young, strawberry-blonde with a bad attitude—Aleister’s favorite—marched over to the tree, leapt to grab a limb on the side opposite his leader, and pulled himself up, perching comfortably on the branch.
Aleister crashed to the ground, eating a faceful of dirt.
“Binoculars.” Nero extended a hand.
Aleister climbed to his feet, brushing off his black velvet jacket with gold embroidery. The jacket was one of many prestigious adornments given by The Brotherhood, passed on to Aleister by his late Great Uncle Eldon.
None of what The Brotherhood promised interested Orion—not the barbecues, not the glittering brooches, not the blood rituals in the dark.
Definitely nothing in the dark.
Deimos lit up the tree, standing on a branch opposite Nero, binoculars hanging around his neck. “I’ll do it!”
Crossing his arms, Orion leaned against a tree. His senses overloaded, feeling his comrades’ excitement and anticipation, the pitter-patter of hearts, the stench of sweat and adrenaline. He wished everyone would calm down. He reached into his coat and lit a hand-rolled cigarette.
“Your orders are to determine Senator Mara’s location.” Aleister pointed into the trees. “Note his behavior and anything else that will prepare us for our siege.”
Deimos powered up the binoculars and activated the thermal view. He rotated through multiple views, tilting his head side to side, thoroughly scanning the premises.
He lowered the binoculars. “There are six inside the house, with one vehicle parked outside.”
Aleister’s face grew red, and he lifted a balled fist. “What is my mantra?!” He shook his fist high above his head. “What do I always tell you?!”
Phobos and Deimos exchanged terrified glances. One of the twins spoke in a small voice. “Always flush when you are finished. . . Sir?”
Aleister rolled his eyes, and cracked his neck. “My other mantra!”
The other twin’s eyes widened and he raised a finger. “Never answer unless you know the number!”
Aleister threw a hand into the air. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”
“Wait an hour.” Nero jumped to the ground, brushing off his pants. “Before you double your dose.”
Aleister flung his arms into the air with desperation. “NO SURPRISES!” He clapped his hands. “No surprises! No surprises! That’s my mantra when we’re on a mission! No surprises! Do you understand why this is vitally important?”
Orion blew out a long puff of smoke, ashing his cigarette with a satin-gloved hand. “I’ve never heard you say that, Aleister.”
His eyes widened and he thrust a finger at Orion. “Then fumigate your brain!”
“It doesn’t matter.” Nero waved a hand. “We were expecting five—the senator, his wife, and three kids. Let's wait it out and see if the unexpected visitor leaves. There's no sense in creating more complications than necessary. We have to wait for nightfall to strike, anyway.”
Deimos lifted the binoculars, confirming his count. "One appears to be a small child, Sir."
Phobos shrugged. "It's probably the youngest kid."
Gritting his teeth, Aleister massaged his temples.
“It’s too bad that Merve already left.” Mr. Mara cut into an herbed fillet of baked glitterfish.
“Tragic.” Ninkasi speared a head of broccoli with her fork, and stared at the ceiling.
“Your mother says he brought you a bouquet of flowers.” Her father lifted an eyebrow.
Ninkasi’s mother took a sip of her martini and coughed, clearing her throat, turning her head away from Mr. Mara.
“To poison her!” Noah waved his fork in the air. “He knows about her allergies! It was an evil plot! He—”
Ninkasi rested a hand on her brother’s arm, and forced a cordial smile.
“Merve Sterling.” Mr. Mara’s shoulders rumbled with a belly laugh. “He’s the cat’s pajamas. And he’s loved you his whole life, Nink—”
“Loved is a strong word, Daddy.” Ninkasi swirled her fork through mashed potatoes.
Her appetite curled up and died on the table.
“He’s a gorgeous young man. One of Jambu’s most eligible bachelors.” Mr. Mara patted his mouth with a napkin. “With his father the head of Horus Biometrics, he’s destined on a successful career path for life. His father and I go way back, we’re like family—”
“So wouldn’t it be gross if he married Ninkasi?” Noah leaned over the table, raising his eyebrows inquisitively. “If he’s really like family, that’s gross, because no one should marry their own family—”
Mr. Mara grunted, and raised a stern hand. “Noah—”
Ninkasi’s mother left the table, empty martini glass in hand.
The Chihuahua frolicked after her.
“It’s what you said!” Noah threw his hands in the air.
Ninkasi impaled a forkful of salad.
“You’d be set for life, dear.” Her father cut another piece of glitterfish. “It would position your whole family for success, in fact.” He adjusted his glasses, and stared at her with a proprietary grin. “That kind of wealth supporting my political campaign. . . My influential vote in the pocket of a revolutionary company. . .”
Ninkasi tapped the plate with her fork. “Isn’t that cheating, Daddy?”
Ninkasi’s mother returned to the table.
The Chihuahua reared up on his back legs, tail wagging, pleading for food with his big beady eyes.
“My Wittle Man! I already fed you! I gave you the fish!” She snuck a pinch of glitterfish beneath the table. “You will turn into a fattie patattie! A roly-poly! A chubster!” She slipped the dog another bite of fish.
The dog horked back his treats and skittered beneath her chair, elated.
“It’s playing for the winning team.” Mr. Mara pointed a finger. “Intelligently planning your career.”
Biting her lip, she rolled her eyes. “Being Merve Sterling’s wife, my career? Marrying him is grand enough to qualify as a career?”
“Your career and consolidation of power!” Her father took a bite of fish. “With your new degree, you could join the think tank. It would be an unstoppable union of powers. Think about your retirement!” He waved his fork, and winked. “Think about my retirement.”
“The truth is, Daddy. . .” Ninkasi stared at her plate. “I don’t think I’m in love with Merve. I’m sorry.”
“Ninkasi would rather eat a fridge full of rotten produce than marry Merve Sterling!” Noah spat chewed broccoli across the table.
Ninkasi’s mother stared into her glass, eyes in a haze.
Mr. Mara laughed. “It’s too bad the days of arranged marriages are over.” He waved a hand.
Ninkasi inhaled a sharp breath, and bit her tongue.
“You’re too young to know what’s good for you.” He shook his fork. “You’re shooting yourself in the foot if you pass up this man. You ought to marry him.” Mr. Mara leaned over the table. “You should do whatever it takes to get that kind of money, power, notoriety. You’d be set for life. Hell, have an affair if it makes you happy, but—”
Ninkasi’s mother stood up from the table, chair squealing against the floor. She jammed an unsteady finger in her husband’s face, martini sloshing on her dress, the table, the little dog beneath her. Her eyes narrowed. “How is life with your girlfriend, Stephen?”
Mr. Mara lifted his hands into the air. “It was a joke, Arielle.”
She scrunched her nose. “I asked you a question!”
“Mama.” Ninkasi lifted her hands in a calming gesture.
Mr. Mara’s eyes widened. “We’re all trying to eat dinner together, Arielle.”
“Get out!” Her mother screamed and pointed at the door.
The Chihuahua hopped and barked.
Mr. Mara stood up. “I shoul
d get going.”
Noah slammed a hand on the table. “But you just got here—”
“Get out!” Her mother threw the glass, shattering it in a wet rain of glass against the wall. “I don’t ever want to see your face again!”
The dog howled.
“You’re disrespectful at the table, in front of your children!” Her mother tremored, arm hanging outstretched toward the door. “The nerve of you! Leave!”
Mr. Mara shook his head. “You haven’t dropped the bottle since I left, have you?”
“This isn’t about me!” Her mother razed him with ferocious eyes. “The only god damn reason I invited you back into this house is because today was supposed to be about Ninkasi!” She turned and stormed from the room, Chihuahua at her heels.
"Right, the house that I'm paying for." Mr. Mara collected his bags from the floor. “I’m leaving.”
Noah scooped the remaining mashed potatoes onto his plate in one enormous mountain. “More food for me, then!” He swiped the gravy boat and dumped it all on his plate, a cascade of gravy gushing over the edges of his plate and onto the table. “Losers!” His face contorted and he raked his fork through the plate with a demented scowl.
Ninkasi felt a horrible knot in her stomach. “Daddy, wait—” She scrambled from the table, grabbing his sleeve at the door.
Mr. Mara stared at her, and shook his head. "I'll walk to the train.”
“Alpha team in position.” Nero spoke into his RCU. “Beta team, confirm position.”
The RCU chirped. “Beta team in position. Waiting for signal.”
All were dressed in balaclavas.
“All targets are in position! This is a zero-casualty operation.” Aleister crouched behind a towering shrub, clutching a grenade launcher packed with smoke bombs. The chunky emerald ring with diamond squares and rippled gold sparkled on his finger, The Brotherhood’s symbol engraved on its side. “We go in, knock out all potential witnesses, grab Senator Mara, and get the fuck out. Any questions?”
Phobos rubbed a hand against the back of his head. “We’re using strictly kluzeins for this mission?”
“Let’s make a stunning first impression.” Aleister smacked the guns strapped to his belt. “We need the senator alive, and for fuck’s sake, avoid shooting the kid. We’re not state officers. We don’t do that shit.”
Nero parted the shrub and peered at the house. “That’s judicious.”
“Of course it is!” Aleister whacked the butt of the grenade launcher against the ground. “This is my plan!”
Orion whistled, perched in a tree. He pointed a second grenade launcher at the house.
“Targets confirmed?” Aleister turned toward the twins.
“Confirmed, Sir.” Deimos peered through the binoculars. “Everyone appears to be sleeping. Four bodies upstairs, one downstairs, according to thermal recognition.”
“Nero.” Aleister pointed at the blonde. “Call it!”
Nero lifted the RCU to his lips. “Beta team, commencing countdown in five—”
Aleister steadied the grenade launcher on his shoulder, pointing it at the house, eyes fixed on his target.
Orion shifted in the tree, prepared to shoot.
The count passed in silence. Aleister and Orion fired simultaneously, shattering the two largest windows on the front of the house. A third and fourth shot echoed through the forest, piercing windows in the back of the house. White smoke billowed through the broken windows.
Orion heard a girl scream.
“We move!” Aleister dropped his weapon and barreled toward the house.
Nero sprinted at the house. Skidding to a halt at the door, he lifted his leg, chambering a solid kick, and smashed it open with a steel-toed boot. He entered.
Aleister thundered after him.
The twins filed inside.
Orion followed, and froze in the door frame. Shoulders stiffening, he drew in a sharp breath.
A small Chihuahua charged across the room, baying. He hopped on his feet, growling and yapping, displaying a particular distaste for Orion.
Orion put his hands in the air, palms open, and slowly took a step in reverse, onto the patio. “Deimos!”
The dog persisted in his growls.
Deimos appeared in the doorway and scooped up the dog.
The dog issued a snarling protest.
Orion bent forward, heaving a huge sigh of relief.
“I should shut this guy in another room so he doesn’t get hurt.” Deimos disappeared into the house with the yowling creature.
Heart pounding, Orion leaned against the door frame, taking a deep breath, and wiped his forehead. He didn’t care what Deimos did with the dog, so long as he got rid of it.
“Don’t you dare touch my brother!” a woman shrieked hysterically.
Orion bolted through the house toward the commotion.
A teenage kid with wild black hair beat his fists against Aleister’s chest.
Nero stood behind a woman, restraining her, presumably the older sister.
Orion’s eyes doubled in size when he saw her: they struck jackpot. He didn’t care what Aleister’s plans were—he would leave with the girl.
She was perfect, with flowing jet-black hair down to her hips. Blue flannel pajamas hugged her narrow waist, and a loose-fitting tank top covered her chest, small but not too small.
The night was crisp. Her nipples were hard.
He shook his head. More than any of that, she had a sparkle of determination in her eyes—
“Listen, kid, don’t make this complicated.” Aleister swooped down with a large paw and restrained the child by his wrists.
The sister stomped on Nero’s foot with her heel, and dropped into a squat, bringing down her center of gravity. Dispatching a sharp elbow into Nero’s stomach, she wrestled from his grip, and shot across the floor to her brother. “Noah!” She squeezed a tiny fist and swung at Aleister’s head.
Aleister gripped her wrist like a toothpick, ripping her arm out of the way.
She kicked at him, clocking her bare foot against the inside of his broad thigh.
Nero grabbed her from behind, locking one arm around her middle and another around her throat. “Don’t try that again.”
Orion sauntered toward the girl, appraising her. She was considerably athletic for his tastes, with powerful, well-built legs.
There was only one problem. He pressed a thumb over the freckle beside her eye.
"Don't touch me!" The girl jerked her head away.
That freckle would have to go. It wasn't supposed to be there.
Aleister snatched the kid brother in his arms, reaching a plump, weatherbeaten hand to the boy’s face. His fingers danced across a series of pressure points on the kid’s head, followed by a second series of points on his chest.
The child went limp, collapsing in his arms.
“Noah!” The girl screamed and struggled against Nero’s arms. “Noah! What did you do to my brother, you ugly piece of shit?!” She thrashed and bucked, fiercely trying to twist free. “Noah!”
Orion brought a hand to his chin. That mouth was atrocious. He’d have to instruct her. . .
An operative dressed in black from the beta team appeared in the kitchen. “Lord Aleister, Sir.”
Aleister placed the child’s unconscious body on the floor. “Tell me you’ve secured the senator!”
“What the hell did you do to my brother?!” Blood rushed to her face; there was anguish in her eyes, an aura of palpable terror streaming from her body.
Orion reached into his pocket and lit a cigarette. He hated to watch her squirm, but Nero wasn’t hurting her; she was hysterical.
He’d make it up to her later.
“The only person upstairs is the senator’s wife, Sir.” The operative hung his head.
“Did she see you?” Aleister approached him. “Is she conscious?” He spun around and pointed at Orion, balling a fist. “Why the fuck are you smoking?”
“She was unconscious w
hen we found her, Sir.” The man tilted his head. “There were eight cans of mead and a half-empty bottle of absinthe in bed with her. And a little dog, Sir. She kept muttering about how it was her fault for—um—signing the papers, Sir." The operative cracked his neck to the side. "I’m confident she has no idea that any of this is happening.”
“Phobos!” Aleister threw his head back. “Deimos! Where is the senator?!”
The twins barreled into the kitchen. “There’s no one else on the first floor. We’ve searched thoroughly—”
“You counted five bodies!” Aleister thrust his finger at the closest twin.
Phobos stepped aside. “Actually, Deimos counted—”
Deimos shot his brother a livid stare.
“My father isn’t here!” The girl fought to wrench herself from Nero’s arms.
Deimos had counted the damned dog.
Aleister snapped his fingers.
Orion fixed his gaze on the girl: he heard the beating of her heart, smelled the fight-or-flight terror in her veins, felt the pain in her chest when she looked at her brother. “She speaks the truth.” Puffing his cigarette, he wished he didn’t know, couldn’t feel.
The burden of determination always belonged to him, and for this, he was invaluable to Aleister.
He smelled her sweat. He could almost taste her.
He exhaled.
Aleister approached the girl, standing an inch from her face. “Where is your father?”
“I don’t know!” She shook her head. “He lives with his girlfriend. He's lived with her for more than a year. He was supposed to stay with us for dinner tonight, but—” She pressed her lips together and blinked furiously, fighting tears. “It doesn’t matter!”
“It does matter.” Lurching forward, Aleister breathed in the girl’s face, gold tooth sparkling.
She shrank back against Nero. Her eyes locked on the floor, on her brother’s body.
Orion felt the tremor of fear coursing through her nerves, lifting the hair on her arms.
All Aleister did was knock the kid out, pure and simple, but she didn’t understand. He took another long draw on his cigarette.
Women were always hysterical.
Aleister poked a finger into her chest. “Tomorrow morning, there will be a vote—”