Chapter 22 No Mercy, Plan A #2
“Ah, Celia.” Sebastian looks pleased with himself for guessing correctly.
“He has an update about her heart, but he won’t tell me until then. And he said either way he’ll talk to Aria—either during an in-person visit or at the Benefaction.”
“Brilliant strategy.” The man has the gall to look excited. “Forces your hand without lifting a finger. Aria must attend then. Might be good; two birds with one stone. She can be bait—”
“No!” My voice comes out harsh.
Someone gasps.
My hands move at breakneck speed. “The entire council is there. If they see how interested Cornelius is in Aria, there’s no chance she can escape, bounty or not. They’ll hunt her just so someone else in their group can’t get to her.”
And if she goes…we’ll be over.
“No, Ren. Aria has to attend. He expects obedience from Si Shen. Anything else will just rouse Cornelius’s suspicions. You need the news for Celia. We need to placate Cornelius until we find the key,” Elias muses. “You’re not thinking clearly, Ren. We can pull you out.”
“Over. My. Dead. Body.”
I slam my fist onto the table for emphasis.
Whiskey jolts in the glasses. Sofia’s rouged lips part. Tristan stills. Sebastian full-on grins now.
Elias holds my gaze for a beat, then his lips tilt at the corners. “Even the god of death can become mortal.”
Someone stifles a snort.
We swivel our gaze to Sebastian, who shrugs. “Emotions. So damn glad I don’t have them.”
Elias rolls his eyes. “The Carusos are quiet. Gabriel, the bastard, says he doesn’t know about the bounty. He’s lying, of course.”
“Nothing in the parish files about Aria or a key,” Rafe says. “And my hospital contacts don’t have leads on a donor heart.” He reaches over and clasps my hand. “Wish I had better news for Celia.”
A noose tightens around my neck, but I nod.
“I gave Ren my update. And no news on the money front,” Sebastian says. “But I think Ren is still keeping secrets from us.”
“We all have secrets.” Elias narrows his eyes at me. “But will your secrets hurt the cause? Break the rules?”
My nostrils flare. Rule 3 of The Syndicate codex: No innocent women or children.
It’s only a matter of time before they learn the second half of my task is to kill Aria.
Even though I’ll die before I hurt Aria, will they trust me knowing the Kongs have Celia as hostage?
“Ren? Is there something we should know?” Elias stiffens, his knuckles white around his lighter.
I shake my head. “I remember our vows.”
Sofia straightens in her chair. “Then listen carefully. Elias and I have thought it through. This is the last clean option we have.”
“Explain.”
She doles out an unsettling smile, and dread settles cold in my gut.
“Plan A is pressure,” she explains. “We make Cornelius feel heat from three directions at once—social, legal, and internal. Reputation, law enforcement, and trouble inside his own house. Force him to delay the bounty.”
“That’s a lot of words for blackmail.” Tristan folds his arms. “Which is illegal.”
“You in or you out, Special Agent?” she spits out.
Tristan holds her gaze for a second, the air thrumming between them.
“Can we count on you,” she says, “or should we call for disposal services?”
The fed cuts a sharp glance across her face. “I’m your best bet. Worry about your part and let me handle mine.”
I snap my fingers. “Where does Aria factor into all of this?”
“She stays visible. Talks to Cornelius. Does as she’s told. She should be fine if it all goes to plan.”
“If?”
“You sure you can handle this?” she asks softly.
I want to deny her. I want to wipe the sympathy from their eyes—save for Sebastian, who doesn’t know what that word means.
But all I can think of is Aria pacing in her hallway alone, clutching those damn sunflowers in one hand and Blake’s ring in the other.
How good she feels in my arms. How, in her presence, I forget I’m the dealer of death.
I think about the dream I can never have—Aria laughing at me, hand outstretched, sunlight on her skin.
An ordinary life.
“What if Plan A doesn’t work?” Rafe voices the question clawing through my skull.
Aria’s life. Celia’s life. Everything is riding on this flimsy little plan.
The room quiets. Church bells chime in the distance, the hollow melody threading through the stone walls like a countdown.
No one speaks. No miracles arrive.
“Plan B then,” Elias murmurs.
He strolls to the wall of monitors in the back, which shows the church’s courtyard and entrances.
Then slowly, he turns, his green eyes meeting mine. “We kill Cornelius.”
Tristan jerks in his seat. Rafe goes motionless, glass halfway to his mouth. Sofia looks grim. Sebastian, the motherfucker, looks pleased that we’re introducing bloodshed.
I hold the gaze of my oldest friend, the man who found me over a decade ago with bruises on my body from a brutal Kong training.
“The dead can’t issue a bounty,” he says, his voice quiet.
It’s the nuclear option. A bloodbath will follow.
He’s putting all our lives at risk with this plan.
It’s worth it, his eyes seem to say. For you.
My jaw locks, and I grip my gun, gratitude hitting my body hard enough to hurt like a bullet wound.
“For the vow,” I rasp, my voice hoarse.
“No mercy. Our ruin for their fall,” Elias replies. “This strategy is a gamble at best, and you’re at the center of it all. Do what you need to do. Live with no regrets.”
I swallow as heat burns behind my eyes.
Aria’s smile flashes across my mind again. Her soft touch. Her teasing laughter.
I need to see her.