by Luna Quinn
Razor glanced at Night. Night was a smooth talker, but as he’d said, he had no patience for humans. Sin was diplomatic, articulated, savvy, and could pass for non-threatening. Though, to Razor, Sin’s brain was even scarier than his fighting style. When he took to the training floor, his katana swords flew through the air almost as if invisible. But that brain of his was a weapon all on its own.
“If we can pinpoint—”
Sin never finished, because Edge abruptly stood up. His nostrils flared, eyebrows lowering.
Edge motioned to Sin’s tablet. “We’re done here. Sin, handle that. Razor, someone has to know something. Find them.” He stepped from behind the desk, his body so tense it made the back of Razor’s neck prickle. “Night, keep an ear open. Have your dealers ask around. Discreetly.”
Razor stood quickly, on full alert. Night, Sin, and Sasha followed.
“You okay, Edge?” Razor’s hand automatically went to his rifle, his steps taking him to his oldest brother, his body blocking him from anyone that would come in through the door.
Edge nodded. “Fine. I need fresh air,” he said as he shoved Razor out of the way.
“I’ll go with you.” Night moved to Edge, who snarled.
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Edge.” There was a warning in Night’s tone. “She isn’t for you.”
Edge growled low, a menacing sound. Self-preservation had Razor, Sin, and Sasha taking a step back.
“Back the fuck off, Night,” Razor said carefully, not wanting to push their oldest brother any further. It was obvious that whoever “she” was, was important to Edge.
But Night didn’t move.
No, the idiot planted himself right in front of Edge and said, “She’s here every night, E. You know this. No one will touch her. Not even you. You have my word. We have enough shit to deal with as it is.”
Edge’s head moved in a weird way, like a snake ready to go in for a deadly bite.
“Move.” Edge’s voice was quiet.
“Are you going to go after her?”
The next growl that left Edge’s chest was unlike anything Razor had ever heard come from his brother. It was equal parts arousal, possessiveness, and death threat.
“What the hell is going on?” Sin stood next to Razor, his body tense.
“Nothing,” Edge snapped, his eyes still burning a hole into Night’s skull.
“I’m only being cautious, Edge. Don’t go there. Get those crazy ideas out of that thick skull of yours and end it now, before it goes any further.”
“Nothing is going on,” Edge snarled. “Now get the fuck out of my way.” The before I make you went unsaid.
After a few tense moments, and a small nod from Night, Edge left the office. “You follow me, I’ll shoot you in the knees,” Edge barked over his shoulder, then the door slammed behind him.
“Holy shit. What was that?” Sasha asked, her eyes wide.
“I second that. What the hell was that about?” Sin said.
Night took the seat Edge had just vacated. “Nothing right now. Let’s just hope it stays that way,” he said cryptically as he pulled out a crystal decanter full of silver liquid from a cabinet under his desk.
When they all filed out of Night’s office, Sin turned in one direction and Sasha went the other.
Razor caught up to her and took her arm. “I need a second with you.”
Pulling her arm free, Sasha ignored him and kept walking. Razor cursed and followed her.
“I think we shared everything we knew just a few moments ago. I have nothing else to add,” she said when he moved in next to her.
“This isn’t about the case, Sasha.”
Sasha stopped, turning her head to look over her shoulder at Razor. For a second, he saw indecision in her eyes. Like part of her wanted to outright deny him, but the other part wanted to talk. Then she sighed heavily, looking tired all of a sudden. “What, Razor?”
He asked simply, “Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Why can’t we explore this thing between us? I’m not asking you for forever.” A total fucking lie. “All I’m asking for is a chance.” To show you I’m worthy of forever.
Her face softened. “You don’t understand. It’s not that simple. I have baggage. Tons and tons of it.”
Moving a little closer, he reached out and lightly touched the apple of one cheek with the back of his fingers. “I want you. I want the whole package. Good and bad.”
Her gaze traveled over his face as if trying to gauge the truth in his words. Finally, she smiled sadly. “I believe you. But I don’t think I can be what you need me to be.”
“What, yourself?”
She shook her head, her gaze abruptly shifting away from him, and she appeared to be somewhere far away for a moment. “I need to go.” Her voice was thin.
“No, you don’t.”
But she ignored him and turned on her heel. “I’ll text you in a few hours.”
“You can’t just sweep everything that has happened between us under the rug and hope it stays there. Well, you can, but I don’t think you want to. Not really.” He was nearly yelling at her, he knew, but his temper flared when the small spark of hope that had ignited in her blue eyes proceeded to burn out.
She stopped long enough to shoot him a look full of resignation before she poofed out of existence.
For a few seconds, all he could do was blink at the spot where Sasha had just been. When both Razor and his beast realized that the woman he had started to care for had disappeared without leaving so much as a scent trail in her wake, he bayed.
…
You’re a fucking coward, Sasha berated herself as she slammed her fist into her punching bag at home. She’d told herself that the next time she saw Razor, she’d cut the bullshit and just tell him that yes, she was more than just attracted to him. She’d meant to tell him that she had feelings for him.
But then she’d come face to face with him, and all of a sudden, it had been too much.
Already she regretted leaving him like she had, with hope lighting up his features. As someone who prided herself on having very few weaknesses, Sasha was being pelted left and right by them lately, and they had all been opened up because of Razor. He was making a place for himself inside her usual shields, and it was tipping her off balance.
Drained of energy now, Sasha flopped down on her couch and pulled her knees tight to her chest, hugging them. What the hell was she supposed to do? She fiddled with her phone for a few minutes, her finger hovering over Razor’s number. Instead, she called Sael.
“Hey, everything all right?” Sael answered. There was music pumping in the background.
“Yeah, I’m good. I…ah, just wanted to talk. It’s been a while, you know?” Sasha said, uncomfortable with how weird this was. How did people start these types of conversation? They made it look easier than it was.
There was a slight pause. “We just hung out and had drinks the other night. But now I’m intrigued. You never want to just talk. So what’s— Oh Goddess, are you actually trying to have a girl talk?” The other woman’s voice filled with excitement. “Shit, I need to sit down. I never thought I’d see the day. I should write this down in my diary,” Sael teased. “Today’s date is…hold on. Okay, here we go. Dear diary, on this day,” Sael dictated in an exaggerated manner, “Sasha, the baddest motherfucking bitch in Shadow Realm, called me to have a girl talk.”
Sasha tossed a throw pillow off her couch, imagining it hitting her best friend. “Shut up,” she said, trying to stifle her laugh. “This is serious.” Sasha swallowed, and then just blurted it out before she chickened out. “It’s about Razor. I…had sex with him.”
There was another pause. “Hoo boy. I really should be there in person, but I can’t get off this shift for a few hours, so phone will have to do.” There were some shuffling noises, and then Sael was shouting at someone to shut their pie-hole. “And it’s about damn time,” her friend said when she came b
ack on. “Rumors are flying around about you two. I’m not surprised, actually. I think I saw it coming years ago. Is he as good in the sack as they say?”
They? The image of other women touching and being with Razor was suddenly infuriating. Despite the fact that she’d watched him for centuries with different women, the thought of him with someone else right now had her gritting her teeth. No one else had the right to touch him. Not until she had a chance to see where this could lead. He was hers.
Sasha blinked at the possessive pronoun, quickly adding for now to the end of that statement.
Slight pricks of pain had her glancing down to where she’d clenched her fists. Her palms had dark nail indentations.
“Uh, Sasha? Did I lose you there?”
Sasha cleared her throat. “No, I’m here. Rumors, huh? I’m not even going to ask. And, uh, yeah, he’s pretty good, I guess.”
Sael snorted. “Gods, you suck. Try that again, and don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying. He’s all right.” Sasha shrugged, picking up the pillow from the ground and putting it back on the couch.
“Sasha, my beautiful but most stubborn friend, pretty good would be going about your business afterwards and not giving any fucks about whether or not there’s a repeat of the mattress mambo. You’re calling me to have a girl chat, so I’d say it was more than just all right.”
“More like motorcycle mambo, but okay, maybe you’re right. But I’m not in love with him or anything,” she said in a rush. Just to make sure it was clear.
Sael chuckled. “I didn’t say that you were. You don’t have to love someone to care for them. There’s a difference. Now let me ask you, what do you want?”
“You mean besides more sex?”
“Yeah, besides more of the hot motorcycle sex you’ll be telling me all about next time I see you.”
Sasha chewed on her lip. What did she want? This was the scary part. After she had lost Ivan and her children, the only thing that had kept her going was the sole purpose of finding her Salvae. Once she earned her spot in Heaven, she could be with her kids again. Sometimes she wasn’t sure she was worthy of even that, because it had been her fault, her failure to protect them, that had caused their deaths.
Beyond that, there was Razor, with his quirky sense of humor and the integrity that many men lacked, making her feel like maybe taking a crack at happiness again wasn’t completely selfish of her. That maybe fate had been trying to tell her something all those times over the centuries when she failed to find her Salvae. Razor killing her final Salvae had pissed her off initially, but she hadn’t really been angry at him. No, Sasha had been angry that obviously someone, or something, was cockblocking her every attempt at Heaven.
But now… Maybe she was ready to move on? And maybe it was time to let go of her constant anger. She was exhausted down to her very bones. Gods, and the inescapable fear and guilt. She’d always felt like she was betraying her kids somehow by moving on, but Sasha had begun to consider that maybe it was them sending her all those signs.
“It’s okay to admit that you want someone for more than a quick fuck.” Sael’s soft voice pulled her back from her reflections. “I know it must be hard. Letting people in isn’t your forte, and that’s okay. It only took, what, two centuries before you acknowledged that we were friends? So this is me, as your friend, telling you that it’s okay to let another person in. It doesn’t even have to be Razor. And if it ends badly and there are hurt feelings, then fuck it, you move on. But at least you tried. Trying is living, and, by the Great Mountain Goddess, I want you to live.” Her friend’s voice quivered. Was she crying? “I’m just glad to see your eyes are no longer empty, but full of…things. I don’t know how to explain it.”
Sasha felt her eyes sting. Aw, fuck, she was going to cry, too. It felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Still, she was stubborn to her very marrow, so she pushed back the tears and said, “Easy for you to say. You’re confident enough to be with anyone you want, for as long or as little time as you want, and you’re still happy.”
“What do they say about assuming?” her friend murmured. Before Sasha could question her, she said louder, “But we’re not talking about me. Sounds like the only thing holding you back are your own fears. In my opinion, if Razor has made you question your choices, the very way you have been living your life—and I mean that in a good way—he might be worth the risk. You won’t know how wonderfully refreshing the water is unless you take the plunge.”
Sasha sighed loudly. She needed to say something that would push the stupid tears away. “Gods, how are you always right? I hate it.”
“I love you, too,” Sael said through her laughter.
They chatted for a little bit longer before hanging up, but Sael’s words echoed in her mind all night and even into her dreams.
Sasha woke up in the middle of the night, her mind full of possibilities and her stomach full of nervous butterflies.
It was time to let go. Razor wasn’t her ex-husband, and moving on didn’t mean her children would be forgotten. And it really was asinine to continue denying that they shared something special. Their chemistry was almost tangible.
When she fell back asleep, her last conscious thought was no more running.
…
Back at the Night House, Razor woke with a start, body dripping in a cold sweat. Heart pumping hard, his chest heaved as he ran a hand over his face. He checked the clock on his side table. 4 a.m.
Razor couldn’t even recall the last time he’d had a nightmare. It had to have been at least a century.
Body still trembling, he got up and padded into the kitchen. His bare feet were quiet on the wood floor. He’d crashed at the Night House, too exhausted from trying to pull leads out of his ass to make the trip home. Opening the fridge, he picked up a cold bottle of water and took a long drink. His mouth felt dry, like sandpaper. He gulped greedily, water dripping down his chin to his bare chest. But the nightmare was still present in the corners of his subconscious, and it felt imperative that he consume as much of the soothing liquid as he could, because who knew when he’d get to taste it again.
The dry heat of the cell in the Pit made Razor’s breaths almost painful. His mouth was parched, his lips cracked. He could hear the steady rhythm of water dripping somewhere in the distance. It made his throat ache.
A spasm moved over his body. His knees felt as if they were breaking into pieces as Trimol held him down by the nape. Razor’s hands remained clasped behind his back, and all he could do was whimper in protest. How long had he been kneeling like this? Hours? Days?
A pain-filled groan reminded him he wasn’t alone in his suffering. Razor made a noise full of anguish. He didn’t want to look up. Trimol hit him hard behind the head. “Shut the fuck up and lift your head, you filthy abomination.”
Slowly, Razor did as Trimol ordered, mentally reciting the vow he’d made long ago that he would kill Trimol one day.
His eyes filled with tears as his gaze landed on Edge hanging from a rusty butcher’s hook in the middle of the small cell.
This was all his fault. If he had followed his father’s orders, Edge wouldn’t be suffering.
“Now, let’s help your younger brother understand what happens to those that defy me, shall we?” Erummon’s voice was oily and dark against Razor’s senses.
A deep, ragged gasp came from his brother’s mouth when Erummon, their fucking father, peeled another strip of skin from his back. His brother hadn’t even screamed the entire time Erummon and his lackey had worked on him.
Razor might only have been fifty years old, but he knew that his father was a sadistic bastard. And that every time he tortured one of them, his only goal was to hear them scream, to break them. To turn them into the vicious and single-minded killing machines they’d been bred to be.
Shame washed over him. For days, he had felt nothing but pain, and yeah, he’d screamed. Edge had remained nearly silent.
No matter how man
y times Edge was punished, not once had he given their father the satisfaction of hearing him scream.
“My sons will fall in line, or this will be your breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
Another piece of skin. Another low groan. Edge’s body shook. The chains holding his feet to the ground rattled with the force of Edge’s trembling.
The bottle of water fell from his hand. It splashed at his feet, but Razor barely felt it. He swallowed a sob, but his breaths were coming in short bursts, his skin growing clammy. He placed both hands on the counter, his head dropping as he tried to regulate his breathing.
An old memory, nothing more. Edge is fine. Night is fine. Sin is fine. You’re safe. Your brothers are safe.
Why was he having the nightmares again? He’d believed he had successfully locked away those memories so they were nearly nonexistent.
For years, he had been plagued with the memories of his life in the Underworld, and under his father’s rule. Of his and Edge’s punishments in the Pit. Some had come in nightmares, some while wide awake. But later, once all their lives had changed for the better, the memories had slowly faded.
Were they back because of the mess his life was turning into? It certainly felt as if his life were spiraling out of control and Razor wasn’t even in the cockpit.
Straightening, he took a deep breath, feeling better now that he could put an explanation behind the returning nightmares.
As he was cleaning up the spilled water, his phone beeped with an incoming text. He opened the message.
Unknown Number
201 Hellpark Drive—Sector Two
Body dumped. K’s have it.
“Fuck.” He put the phone down, indecision about what to do about Sasha warring in his mind. He should include her as this was possibly related to the case. Razor reminded himself that he was a professional, and that they were both adults. They could do this without bringing up the issues between them.
Besides, it was time he gave Sasha some space. He’d stated his intentions, and the last conversation had left the ball in her court. There was nothing left to do but wait.