Eris
Something is wrong.
I sense it the second we pull into the front drive of this swanky hotel on the opposite side of downtown. The sun has just fallen beyond the buildings, so this place should be bustling with activity.
Nothing is moving.
The lights are too bright for this hour, and there’s only one car parked under the awning out front. It’s a Porsche, so I don’t need to guess who it belongs to. She’s shown up one too many times to forget it.
Jace parks his SUV just outside the reach of the retina-burning lights under the awning. We all sit in silence as we scope—well… I scope the location through the tinted windows, leaning forward to tuck my gun into my waistband before they decide they don’t actually want me carrying it.
They aren’t paying enough attention.
The guys are on their phones. Except for Jace, who is leaning over the center console to read the texts on Kieran’s screen. A series of buzzes fill the silence of the vehicle, and Silas sighs in aggravation as he opens his door without a word.
Cool. So we’re going in.
We absolutely shouldn’t make sure this is an ambush or some sort of nefarious setup to abduct an adult male.
Right… Fuck it, I guess.
I follow them into the light of the building, my pulse steady as I pinpoint cameras and the absence of staff. My entire being aligns with the moment, sensing this calm before something irreversible happens. I slide the safety of my gun off and adjust my shirt to conceal without hindering my draw.
The marble floor in the lobby sounds off; every footstep echoing like the building is listening. Even the air feels staged, chilled just enough to keep people alert, perfumed just enough to notice without being able to name the scent.
Silas pulls ahead, with Jace and Kieran flanking him. But I hang back, not rushing toward the blonde sitting casually in the center of the lobby all by herself.
Callie St. James fluffs her hair before she meanders to her feet like we’ve got all fucking night. We’re on her time right now, and she makes it clear with her relaxed posture. This is something that only comes from believing you’re untouchable.
No one local to Crimson Bay behaves like this.
Because we all know we aren’t untouchable or irreplaceable.
Callie doesn’t fidget with her pastel clothing or straighten her gold necklace as she lasers in on my guys. Practiced perfection is what I would call her smile.
Maybe when I was a young teenager, I would have felt jealousy over how put-together she appears…
Now that I’m older, now that I’ve played in circles with elites and convicts, it’s easy to point out the cracks in her facade.
Like the way she refuses to acknowledge me, or the way she can’t sense the danger in the air.
I don’t react.
Neither do the guys, not that I can see.
The silence stretches into a thick, uncomfortable feeling that almost makes me want to shoot a warning shot just to start the party.
Callie’s gaze flicks between the three men first, cataloging their appearance before she finally lands on me. Her smile sharpens, and she shakes her head.
I can’t understand why she doesn’t feel a lick of fear up her spine. Strange place with three men and a wild card? I wouldn’t leave a couch and a wall at my back.
“Funny thing about leverage,” Callie says lightly, voice carrying in the empty space. “You don’t need much. Just the right piece.”
She walks to the end table and reaches into her purse. I almost roll my eyes when she holds her hands up to caution the guys, showing she’s not grabbing a weapon. Silas rubs his forehead, impatience growing, and I feel slightly better about how pissy she’s making me.
Callie pulls out a slim metal drive, pinched between two manicured fingers, and lets it catch the light. For some reason, I was expecting it to be bigger, and definitely more key-shaped. I probably should have asked Roo about this instead of coming in blind.
“Crypto is funny like that,” Callie continues, her eyes locked on Silas. “People think it’s untouchable. Decentralized. But all it really takes is one key in the wrong hands.”
In front of me, Jace rolls his shoulders back as if he’s winding himself up to negotiate with her.
Silas is so still, I feel like I could thump him and he’d shatter.
Kieran tips his head back to look at the ceiling.
And Callie finally looks at me, leaning so she can make eye contact between Silas and Jace. Her irises glitter bright with triumph.
“Do you know what this is?” she asks, her tone condescending. “I bet they didn’t even tell you about it. Or what happens if I walk out of here without giving it back.”
I don’t answer, instead opting for a question of my own. “Is that what it is? I thought it would look more like a key and less like a square vibrator.”
“So uncultured.” She scoffs. “This wallet has more money inside than you’ll see in three lifetimes.”
Because now she’s done it.
She’s shown her hand.
The drive glints once more as she lifts it higher, like she wants to be absolutely certain we all see it.
“Huh,” I laugh awkwardly, reaching behind my back as I say. “I wouldn’t know. Someone else makes investments on my behalf. I just bring them the cash.”
I’m quick on my draw, but I slow myself down since I have to aim between the wall of men in front of me.
The shot is clean.
Her eyes wide as she recognizes too late.
The shot cracks through the lobby and slams into the silence a heartbeat later.
Thunderous.
Ear-splitting as it echoes off the marble.
Glorious in its finality.
Callie crumbles, her head dropping as her knees give out.
Her body hits the marble floor in a heap of pastel and crimson, blood spreading fast beneath her. Dark red against bright white, like something obscene yet opulent.
For a moment, no one moves.
No one breathes.
I watch their reactions from behind, studying every muscle twitch. But with the cameras in this place, I don’t have time to stand around waiting for them to come to grips with my actions.
I step forward and crouch beside the body, careful not to step in the blood. It’s now that I choose to speak, quiet and even, hoping I’ll only have one body to clean up tonight.
My first words aren’t for my HimLock guys.
“You should’ve stayed gone,” I whisper to Callie St. James. “Crimson Bay is no place for people like you.”
Her eyes are open in shock, the light fading from her once bright irises.
The drive lies inches from Kieran’s foot, but he doesn’t bend to retrieve it, leaving it unclaimed as he processes.
Silas is the first to gather his wits, hand closing around my shoulder in a solid grasp. “We need to leave.”
I straighten, already filing away this issue as done, necessary.
As inevitable.
This was always going to be the outcome.
I click the safety of my gun back into place with a motion I don’t have to think about. It’s muscle memory, and so is the way my fingers slide over my phone screen.
I grimace at the mess pooling on the floor, and take one deliberate step back, not away from the body, just out of its way. I won’t look at her again. She no longer exists, and I won’t waste any more of my attention on a non-issue.
Someone answers on the fourth ring. “Line two. Speak.”
I answer as I walk toward the glass doors, glancing into the parking lot. “Hey. It’s me.”
“Cleanup?” Mother Elvy, the woman on the other end of the call, sighs as if she can’t deal with me tonight. “Just one?”
“Yes. The lobby of The Tidesman Midtown. East entrance.” I make my way toward the elevators, checking the hallway. “It needs to disappear. Quick.”
There’s a beat of silence before she replies, “Ten minutes.”
“Better make it five,” I say, and hang up.
When I turn back around, the guys haven’t really moved. Not that I expected any help scoping the place for witnesses. I do appreciate them staying out of my way, though.
Jace radiates anger, hands flexing at his sides as if he’s deciding whether to lunge for me or my gun or rip the body apart. If I hadn’t seen how much he hates the deceased, I might worry about his reaction.
Silas looks as if his lungs are struggling to do their job; his breaths are shallow and fast as he stares at his feet. There’s a fleck of blood on his cheek from standing a step too close, and he hasn’t wiped it away or acknowledged it’s there.
Kieran… He’s watching me like a man whose reality just folded in on itself, the same way the body did.
Good.
Now they know.
I cross the lobby and sit on the edge of the decorative fountain, giving them some distance until they decide how the rest of our night is going to go.
I stay calm and contained on the outside, the way you sit when you’re waiting for a ride.
But inside, my stomach knots as I wait for them to say something.
Anything.
“You just—” Jace stops himself and shakes his head as if he’s not sure he believes what’s happening. “You just—”
“Shot her,” I finish for him, maybe a little too casually. “Yes. I’m aware.”
“You’re… calm.” Kieran tries, but he seems to still be at a loss for words.
I walk to the side doors, where I instructed the cleanup crew to park. It’s my way of giving the guys space to figure out what they want to say.
“She made a threat she couldn’t back up,” I explain, peering out the window like I can see around the corner. “And she did it in my city.” I shrug. “I did warn her.”
The silence behind me stretches. I turn to face them and tilt my head as I take them in.
“What would you have done?” I ask, though I’m not really looking for a reply.
Jace opens his mouth, but quickly closes it and shakes his head. Kieran drags a hand down his jaw as if he’s trying to anchor himself back into the moment.
Silas is done rebooting, stepping away from the mess to come closer to me. “Where’s the body going?”
“I don’t know. But I suspect it won’t be anywhere that remembers her.” I lift my phone as it buzzes, keeping my eyes on Silas. “Yes?”
“One minute out,” a man informs me through his thick Spanish accent. “Instructions?”
“No message. No souvenirs,” I tell him. “I don’t want it found.”
Tires squeal outside as a blacked-out SUV pulls up, followed by an unmarked van. Neither vehicle has plates. The entire crew is untraceable and professional.
The doors fling open and three people step out: two men and Mother Elvy. It’s always them, and sometimes one other guy if the mess is bigger. They wear identical disposable bodysuits and blank expressions.
The woman nods when she sees me. “Standard protocol?”
“Yes.”
Mother Elvy asks no more questions. The group doesn’t look at the body as if it’s a person. It’s just a problem to clean up for them.
Wrapped.
Zipped.
Gone.
That’s it.
Eight minutes later, the marble is clean, the air smells faintly of solvent, and the room is back in its original order. It’s like Callie St. James never learned the wrong lesson.
Tomorrow, it will feel as if she never existed at all.
When the doors slide shut behind Mother Elvy and her bucket of bloody material, I turn back to the three men who haven’t stopped watching me. Their collective attention is a brand on my skin, but the unanswered questions lingering in the air make the burn sting with the unknown.
“She won’t be a problem anymore,” I remark before I can stop myself.
Silas looks at me as if he’s staring at a loaded weapon he intends to keep close. Kieran looks at me like he’s calculating his odds and simultaneously feeling humbled.
Jace takes one shaky step forward, eyes narrowed as he tilts his head in confusion.
“Who the hell are you?” he asks quietly.
I smile.
“Yours.”