Chapter 37 Cord
I STARE AT the mirror over the sink, unable to recognize myself, and pull my hair back in a ponytail.
After wrapping a rubber band around it, I stand back and assess my appearance.
With the exception of the elaborate ink peeking above my collar and on my hands, I’d almost pass for respectable. I even shaved for the occasion.
The tux fits like it was made for me, which I guess is because it was, but it was no small feat to get it.
I close my eyes, reliving the past twenty-four hours.
What should have been a simple trip to the tailor turns into a street fight outside my apartment. I manage to subdue the two men who jumped me and call Dante to have someone collect them for interrogation. After picking up the suit, I go by the warehouse to have a chat with them.
I seem to be spending a lot of time in Dante’s basement these days. The two vamps are at least more forthcoming than the last group I tortured. All it takes is a little creative artistry with my knife to get them to sing.
“We were just given your picture and told to grab you,” the one who’s conscious whimpers.
“Who gave the order?”
When he hesitates, I jam my knife into the flesh below his right eye and grin as he screams.
“I would suggest you answer him,” Zeke says.
He decided to sit in on the session because, as he put it, he was bored.
I’m not usually a fan of observers, but I don’t argue because I’m really not a hundred percent invested in the interrogation.
Frankly, I’m getting sick of it. These guys take all the fun out of torture.
I yank the knife out of his face and wipe it on his shirt. “Let’s try this again. Who gave the order?”
“One of our lieutenants.”
“Name?”
“We don’t have names. Just numbers.”
“Then give me that.”
“W-why? You don’t know him.”
I flash my nastiest grin. “Maybe I want to send him a thank you card.”
Once again he hesitates. I flip the knife over in my hand and saunter around behind the chair where he’s restrained. “No respect, you know?” I tell Zeke.
“It comes from the top,” he agrees.
Without warning I shove the blade down into the back of the captive’s neck. He shrieks and shudders as blood flows out of the wound, dripping on the floor.
“They never learn,” Zeke says.
I lean over, my mouth ghosting his ear. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Donnie. Can I call you Donnie? You look like a Donnie.”
I squeeze his shoulder, eliciting a hiss of pain from him. “C-call me whatever you want.”
“Great. See, I’ve been conducting a study on how much blood you can lose before blood fever kicks in. Let’s see if you can break the previous record.”
I walk around in front of him and plunge the knife into his gut then scissor it up, leaving a wide gash in its wake. The air is immediately flooded with the acrid stench of stomach gas. Donnie, as I call him, continues to whimper softly.
“Come on, Donnie, he can’t be worth all this pain.”
His partner, who’s been knocked out and chained to the opposite wall, starts to stir at this point.
When I fought them on the street, I noticed a connection between them.
That’s how I was able to subdue them so easily.
Donnie became distracted when I punched out his partner.
Figuring they have more than a casual relationship, I decide to play on that.
“Tell you what,” I say, crossing to the table in the corner and picking through the available tools. I choose my favorite serrated blade and sidle up to the other one. “I’ll give you a few minutes to think about it while I carve up your partner.”
Without preamble, I stab then drag the blade down the partner’s chest, slicing open his shirt and leaving a crimson trail in his pale flesh. His eyes snap open as he screams then starts to hyperventilate.
“No, wait. Stop,” Donnie pleads.
“Having second thoughts?” I ask as I bring the blade up to the partner’s wrist. “Watch this.”
I saw a gouge deep enough to expose bone. The partner cries out, his eyes tearing up, as blood flows down his arm.
“Stop! Stop, okay!” Donnie yells. “I’ll talk, just don’t hurt him.”
I grab the partner’s chin and shake his head. “Isn’t that sweet? He cares about you.”
“It’s okay,” the partner assures Donnie through gritted teeth. “I’m fine.”
I look over at Zeke. “These two are adorable.”
“Pathetic,” he snorts.
I poke two fingers into the cut in the partner’s chest and dig around, making him squirm. “Start talking, Donnie, or I’m going to rip your boyfriend’s heart out.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Don’t do it,” the partner warns. “I can take it.”
“But I can’t,” Donnie insists. “The guy’s name is F65, and he wants to capture you because you’re close to Fantini.”
“Guess he should’ve sent someone more competent than you two.” I glance at Zeke, who shrugs.
“Wouldn’t be the first time someone came after Dante,” he says.
“Not through me.”
I’ll admit, the thought bothers me a little. Not that they’re going after Dante, because hell, I expected that. But that they think they could use me to get to him. And will they try again? If so, when or how? Am I going to be putting Asher at risk by attending this benefit with him?
I’m not afraid for myself, but I refuse to put anyone else, especially Asher, in harm’s way.
What does that say about our relationship?
I always said I’d never let it become a liability.
I guess I can identify with where Donnie is coming from.
If someone threatened Asher, I would move heaven and earth to stop them.
Does that mean I acknowledge that I love him? After spending the last ten years pretending I got over him, that realization shocks me more than I expect.
I look at Donnie with new eyes. “Where are you from?”
“Delaware.”
“So you weren’t part of Dante’s crew?”
He shakes his head. “No. Never met him.”
When I don’t say anything for several minutes, Zeke steps over and murmurs to me, “What do you want to do with them?”
I can’t believe I actually feel sorry for Donnie. Maybe I’m just tired. I drop the blade on the table and pick up the crossbow.
“Sorry about this, but war is war,” I say as I take aim and shoot Donnie in the neck. Before he can react, I turn and fire the second bolt at his partner.
“Let’s get out of here,” I tell Zeke before the shrieking begins. After seeing it play out once, I don’t have the stomach to listen to them die. There’s only so much screaming and burning flesh a man can take.
Zeke hesitates, curious about the process. I leave him to it, heading for the door without looking back.
I spend the next few hours waffling on whether or not to go to this stupid benefit.
Yes, it’s important that I get eyes on Thalium, but not at the expense of Asher’s safety.
When he calls me late in the afternoon, I almost offer up an excuse why I can’t go.
But then he mentions that Elaine was able to crack the phone I gave her, and I agree to meet him at his office.
Elaine not only hacked the phone, she made a list of all the contacts and printed out the emails. It isn’t the motherlode, but it does give us more of a look inside than we have so far.
“When you look at the call log,” she says, “you can see one number stands out above the rest. I’ll be willing to bet that’s who this guy was reporting to.”
“Can you get any information on it?”
“Just that it’s a cell phone with an extension here in the city.”
“Have you called it?” I ask her.
“No, I figured I’d wait for you to do that.”
I take the phone from her and punch in the number, putting it on speaker. It rings several times then a man’s voice asks, “Identification code, please.”
I glance at Elaine. She grabs a piece of paper and jots down a series of numbers and letters. I read them off to the man on the phone.
“Just a moment, please.”
After a minute there’s a short click and another man’s voice comes on. “What do you have to report?”
I decide to wing it. “Three down.”
“Location?”
I give him the street name where we encountered the three vamps.
“We’ll send a team.”
The line goes dead and I look up at Elaine. “Where did you get that code?”
“It was in a locked text file on the phone. I just took a shot that it was what they wanted.”
Good thing it worked. “I need to call Dante.” I pull out my own phone and press Dante’s number.
“Yeah?” he answers.
“A team of the Python’s men are going to be at the corner near the bar we raided the other night.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I just ordered it using the cell phone we pulled off the dead vamp.”
“You were able to crack it?”
“Yeah. There’s quite a bit of stuff on it. I’ll bring it by, but in the meantime, you should get a team out there.”
“On it. Bring me that phone.” He hangs up.
Now that we have a way to contact whoever was on the other end of that call, we can set up a more elaborate ambush. I’m sure they’ll catch on shortly, so we only have a small window to use the advantage.
I head over to the warehouse and hang out until the team returns. Because they were successful in wiping out everyone in the Python’s rescue squad, I feel a little better about our chances when I finally go home. I even put aside my reluctance about attending the event.
Which brings me to tonight.
My phone dings, pulling me out of my head. I glance down; it’s a message from Asher.
We’re out front.
Be right down.
Asher’s black SUV is parked next to the curb when I exit the building. His driver jumps out and comes around to open the door for me. When I climb into the back seat, Asher flashes a wicked grin at me.
“You look good enough to eat,” he murmurs as the driver gets back in and pulls us out into traffic.
I smirk. “Control yourself. We’ve got a job to do tonight.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t indulge in a little fantasy.” He leans closer. “I love you in the suit, but I can’t wait to get you out of it.”
“You’re a horny bastard, aren’t you?”
“Only when it comes to you.” He sits back in the seat but his eyes stay on me. “How did your operation go last night?”