by Rina Kent
Mist and I stumble to the office. Flame waltzes behind us, a hand in his pocket and the other clutching a cigarette.
“Are you sure no one was here?” I ask him as I massage my temples.
“Positive.” His voice is detached as he throws his weight on the sofa and closes his eyes. “Wake me up when there’s something to burn.”
I narrow my eyes, and I know he’s feeling me watching him like a hawk. Flame isn’t as close as Mist or Shadow, probably because he’s an elusive bastard whom no one knows what he wants. He sure doesn’t give a damn about the rest of Team Zero, and no one cares about him. Trouble child or not, I always considered him a part of my family because he had my back a few times. And he chose to tag along on this mission.
Loyalty is no joke for me.
I don’t usually suspect him, but there’s an itch about who called my name earlier.
Mist falls on the sofa across from Flame, leans her head against her fist, and watches her phone. She doesn’t even pay attention to the blood forming rivulets down her forearm.
Ever since Hades sent us Hawk’s video, she’s been watching it on replay. Specifically, the part where Hawk lies on the ground motionless.
“What will you do about the possible war with President Joe?” she asks without glancing up.
She’s been either asking that or giving me the cold shoulder since I brought Elle back from Johnny’s clutches.
“We will see.” I head to the cabinet and pour myself a drink.
My wrist burns, but it isn’t intolerable. I got used to this sensation after a few withdrawal sessions. We don’t injure ourselves anymore, so this is getting on my nerves. I thought Mist and I were making a good progress.
“So what? You will start a war?” She glares, hand slightly shaking. Omega’s after-effect. “We should’ve gone into a partnership with President Joe and made the tip go from his people to the Met Police. Or we could’ve simply continued selling the drugs. But you had to ruin both plans for that girl.”
“That girl has nothing to do with our world,” I grit out and chug the entire glass in one go. The burn almost rivals the one in my veins.
“She barged her way into our world even after we warned her. She should take responsibility.”
“Did you want me to watch her being assaulted and killed? You, of all people?”
Her eyes widen as her hands continue shaking. “Of course not. But she’s a nobody. That,” she points at Hawk’s frozen, bloodied image on her phone, “he’s somebody. Who knows what he’s going through? Our ten minutes in the zone don’t compare to the hell Hades is forcing upon him. Every. Single. Day.”
“You think I don’t know that?” My voice rises. I don’t raise my voice on Mist. Ever. But she’s getting on my nerves. “I’ll figure something out. I already called President Joe to negotiate.”
“He won’t accept.”
“I will make him. You have my word.”
“If you –”
I slam the glass on the table. It shatters into pieces. “I said. You have my word. That’s final, Mist.”
She purses her lips. “We will see about that.”
I storm out of the office.
“So noisy...” Flame mumbles behind me.
I take the back entrance and march to the safe house. The guards greet me with respect, and I nod in return. I must appear calm and reserved. Truth is, I’m fuming.
Why the hell would Mist think I don’t give a damn about Team Zero? I started this. I want them all off that poison. We’re demons, but everyone deserves a second chance. At least, I believe they do. They were forced into all this.
As for myself... I’ll just be glad to see them go forward without anything shackling them. That would be my second chance. Does she think I’m happy Hawk and the others are being tortured?
Just the thought of that bastard Hades hurting them causes my blood to boil. Team Zero and Kyle have become my family after my biological one abandoned me. I would go through hell and back for them.
Mist suspecting me is like a weight crushing my chest.
I know she’s stressed about Hawk, but still.
A rustle sounds from behind me. The tree. Something lunges at me. Although my senses aren’t as sharp as when I’m on Omega, I tackle the shape down. We wrestle to the ground with her on top. She tries to go for my face. I yank her arms and flip her over so I’m pinning her on the ground.
Bright green – that isn’t her real eyes’ colour – stare at me with sheer hatred.
Celeste. A second generation assassin and one of my closest disciples in The Pit.
The little freak always tries to take me by surprise. She fails – every time. She keeps doing it anyway. Knowing Celeste, it must be because of the challenge.
“Ugh!” She tries to writhe, but there’s no use. My knees are nearly crushing her thighs. “Fine, let me go.”
“Say, I lost, Mentor.”
“Sod off, Mentor,” she grits out.
“If you don’t say it,” My lips twitch. “I’ll tell Kyle about this. He’s been counting your fails, you know.”
Her nose scrunches up. Although she and Kyle are my closest disciples, they’re at each other’s throats more than Shadow and Mist.
“Sod it.” She breathes through her nose. “I lost, Mentor.”
“Much better.” I push off her and stagger to my feet.
Celeste jumps up and dusts off her full combat suit. All black. Even her hair is dark. When she came into The Pit as a kid, her natural hair was so blonde, it appeared white. She’s never had it that colour since.
“Oh, come on!” She points at my soaked bandage. “You’re bleeding and I couldn’t even take you? I should’ve aimed at your wound.” She narrows her eyes. “Are you on Omega?”
“If I were on Omega, you wouldn’t even get half a chance.”
“Pfft. Whatever.” She places a hand on her hip. “So? Why did you call me?”
I cast a glance around me then approach her. “You still make trips to The Pit, right?”
“Yeah. Hades prefers me since the three Rhodes’ boys escaped.”
The Rhodes are from the second generation just like Celeste and Kyle. Unlike Celeste and Kyle, they’re of prestigious background. It still doesn’t make sense how Hades managed to kidnap them despite their family name. Then, ten years ago, they escaped. That gave most second generation assassins the idea to defect as well.
Hades is fucking livid at losing his power. Probably why he’s keeping a strong leash on us; his first generation and the ones he can control through Omega.
“Do you have access to the dungeons?” I ask.
Her eyes narrow again. “I can’t free Team Zero. I need my life, thank you very much.”
“I know you can’t. Hades won’t hesitate to kill you. But I need some inside info.”
Her cunning gaze falls on me. “Will you pay me?”
“Of course.” Not that I have anything to do with all the money I’ve gathered over the years.
“That sod Crow made me search something for him without paying me, saying it’s a favour for saving my life a century ago. The wanker was there by accident.” She mocks. “You better not be thinking of doing the same.”
My lips twitch. That sounds like Crow to a T. I’m glad he managed to escape Hades alive and detoxing. The only Team Zero member who could. He had to fake his death to Hades and the world for that freedom. In Crow’s words, ‘It’s fucking worth it’ since he’s living a simple life in a secluded mansion in Southern France with his nurse.
“I’ll pay,” I tell Celeste.
“Hades is keeping a maddening type of security around them, you know.” She muses, making a dramatically quizzical face. “It will be so hard to infiltrate.”
“Any amount of money you want, Celeste.”
Her eyes light up. “Do I have your word?”
“You do.”
“Sweet!” She rubs her hands together, then she looks up, behind me, and her expression
turns annoyed. “Oh, sod it. Here comes the dickhead Kyle.”
“Why do you hate him so much?”
“Why do you like him so much?” She shoots back. “Have you ever wondered why all your disciples cut contact with you unless you personally called?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Ooh, is that Shadow?” Her expression shifts to calculative. “He owes me money!”
And then, she’s running the opposite way.
I shake my head. She’s hopeless. But she needs that money to find her family, so it’s only fair she’s obsessing over it.
“What the fuck was she doing here?” Kyle’s biting tone reaches me before he stops in front of me.
“I called her over.”
He squints. There’s no trace of his usual playfulness. “Why?”
“I will tell you if things work out.”
“Why can’t you tell me now?” he asks in an impatient tone. “Why can’t I do whatever the hell she’s doing?”
Because I’m selfish and I don’t want him out of my sight. Celeste has spent long years with Hades and will manage. Kyle is younger and isn’t that familiar with Hades. The risk is high.
His brows draw together. “Ye still think I’m weak?”
“Of course not.”
“Grand. Then give me Celeste’s mission.”
“You’re acting like a kid, Kyle.”
“I won’t if ye give me her mission.”
“Kyle.” I breathe through my mouth. “I need you by my side.”
“Because Celeste moves around the entire time, so I’m a suitable replacement?” He sighs, shoulders hunching. “I’m sorry, Godfather.”
I clasp his shoulder. “There are more missions ahead of us that only you can do.”
His gaze snaps my way. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Besides, I didn’t take Celeste with me when I did those hits for the Russian mafia, did I?”
He smiles, eyes twinkling. “Damn straight. We had so much fun with those Russians. We should go back, Godfather.”
Ghost had fun. That’s not me anymore.
Kyle’s gaze falls on my wrist. “Ye’re bleeding.”
“It’s dried.”
Kyle’s nose scrunches up. “I’ll clean it for you. Then, we drink?”
I shake my head. “I need to sleep. It helps with the ringing in my head.”
He smiles again, but this time, it appears forced. “Night, Godfather.”
With a wave, I head to the safe house and up the stairs, already tugging on the now-red bandage. I reach into my pocket and pop three pills, then swallow them dry. Paracetamol helps with the throbbing in my head if I take it before sleep.
My movements halt at the threshold of my room. Elle is sitting on the edge of the window, staring at the distance.
I’m surprised she returned by the deadline I’d given her. I figured she’d stall until the last minute, and I would have to throw her over my shoulder and drag her back kicking and screaming.
My gaze rakes up her body. She’s still in that short dress that reveals half her back and the most sublime, toned legs. She’s barefoot. She removed her shoes, and they’re left on the side of the window. One of her legs dangles off the edge.
No idea what she sees in the trees surrounding the safe house, but she’s completely engrossed that she doesn’t notice my presence.
Or maybe I’m too quiet.
Instead of announcing myself, I continue watching her.
I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Watching from afar. Every smile and every move she’s made is engraved deep in my memories. I told myself it’s because I don’t trust her and I need to keep an eye on her, but that reason is beginning to fade. Particularly since I confirmed she doesn’t work for President Joe.
I don’t watch women.
Especially not a fireball who boxes and attracts more attention than I like.
She should be none of my business, but the moment Kyle or Shadow touch her, there’s this urge to break their wrists. I shouldn’t be thinking about hurting my best friend or my godson for a woman.
A nobody as Mist said.
Because that’s exactly what Elle is; a fucking nobody.
If only she remained in the category.
I stalk towards her until her sweet cherry scent, and some other flowery nonsense Scar makes her wear, hits me. Elle’s hair is pushed to the side, her neck on display. The pale skin appears soft and even fairer under the moonlight.
My fingers twitch to touch her and feel that addictive pulse jump under my fingers.
I shove my hand in my pocket. “Are you trying to fly, Firefly?”
She yelps and slips – about to fall. I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her back. She turns around in my hold, arms encircling my back tightly. Her legs aren’t even touching the ground.
Her soft curves press into me. The swell of her full breasts, her flat abdomen and toned legs are intimately twined around me.
My erection surges to life.
Damn.
My arm remain awkwardly at my side. The need to hug her back pulses through me, but if I do it, if I wrap my two arms around her, I have an intuition that I won’t let her go anywhere.
Fucking nowhere.
That’s not a complication I need right now.
As if realising what she’s doing, Elle pushes back. Her body heat leaves mine with a jerk. The compulsion to grab and pull her back is becoming harder to ignore.
“Would you stop sneaking up on people?” She adopts her firm tone, but the crimson tint in her cheeks isn’t entirely due to anger.
“No.”
She scowls. My lips twitch. No idea why, but I like seeing those fired-up expressions.
“What...” She gulps, pointing at my hand. “What happened?”
“An accident.”
“Do accidents make you bleed from your bandaged wrist?” she asks in a nonchalant tone, but I can smell her fishing for information like a curious kitten.
“In our world, accidents happen all the time.” I yank the soaked bandage free and reach for the first aid box from the wardrobe. I sit down on the bed and throw the box open. I search for a clean bandage and start rolling it on the cut over my wrist.
Elle plops in front of me and snatches the bandage.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re supposed to clean that first.” She reaches into the first aid box and grabs a bottle of alcohol. With meticulous movements, she disinfects the wound and straps on a plaster, then wraps a full bandage around my wrist. She’s done this before.
The idea that she did it for another man causes a foreign part of me to jolt. So I choose to believe she did it because of her boxing.
Silky strands of her hair fall on either side of her face. My free hand clenches and unclenches as I fight the urge to push away her hair and get a better look at her. Check if her pulse is regular or heightening like mine.
But she told me not to touch her, so I keep my hands to myself.
For now.
The tips of Elle’s fingers glide over my busted knuckles. She needs to stop doing that or I will flip her underneath me.
She says in a low tone, “Is this also an accident?”
“It is.”
“Do accidents include punching a wall?”
“So many questions, Firefly.” I retrieve my hand from hers and strap the bandage.
She’s watching me with a strange expression, close to sympathy, but not really. Why the hell would she pity me because of a wound?
I turn around, remove my shoes and lie on the bed. Exhaustion weighs on my mind, probably due to the pills. I need a few hours to regroup. I have no time for confusions caused by Elle.
“Where am I supposed to sleep if you take the bed?” she asks, followed by the sound of the first aid box being tucked under the bed.
“You can sleep on the bed, too,” I close my eyes. “It’s big enough.”
“Of course not!”
�
�Then sleep on the floor.”
“I will go back to my room with Scar.”
“No.”
“Ugh. Can’t you say yes for once?”
“No.”
“You’re infuriating, did you know that?”
“So many questions, Firefly.” Pain is shredding on my temples again. “I need to sleep.”
She actually says nothing, and I’m thankful because just like my detoxification, I need silence in order to sleep.
The mattress dips. I crack one eye open. Elle is carefully sliding onto the edge of the bed.
Well, look at that. I was testing her bluff earlier. I thought she would rather sleep on the carpet than share a bed with me.
My chest expands with something similar to... gratefulness? Relief? No idea what it is but it’s messing with my head.
She turns around so her half-bared back is facing me. Her dress is hunching up to the middle of her pale thighs and her neck is on display. The urge overwhelms me this time.
Screw it.
I edge closer and wrap my arm around her waist from behind. My front is glued to her warm back. Where I’m hard, she’s soft and… right.
Elle gasps and tries to wiggle free. I tighten my hold to keep her in place.
She twists her head to stare at me. There’s surprise in the depth of her eyes, but there’s also something as unexplainable as what I’m feeling.
When she speaks, her voice is barely a murmur. “What are you doing?”
I don’t know.
All I’m sure of is that I need her close, and I’m in no mood to fight it.
Elle tries to free herself again, but it’s half-arsed. She’s not even putting in the effort. “Let me go.”
“No.”
“Julian!” she whisper-yells.
My chin rests on her shoulder and I inhale the fruity scent. She freezes as I say, “This is just a precaution. Who knows what you will do when I’m asleep.”
“I won’t do anything. I promise.”
“Still a no,” I whisper against her ear. “My bed. My rules.”
Her hands stop moving against mine and she sucks a sharp breath. The pulse in her neck nearly jumps out. My fingers itch to wrap around her throat and feel it under my thumb. But if I do, I won’t be able to stop this time.
Elle doesn’t fully relax, but she softens in my arms. Soon after, her eyes flutter closed.