Chapter 2
Chapter two
Frankie
“What the hell is taking so long, Frankie? I was told you’re the best in the business with gettin’ info.” Antonio’s voice grates on my nerves and I squeeze the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white.
I would prefer it if it was the little weasel’s throat I was squeezing, but considering he’s the Don’s nephew – or maybe it was cousin – I can’t touch him.
I grind my molars, watching the auburn head of my target through the window of the shop. “He’s smarter than he looks. I’ve already given my report to the Don.”
Antonio scoffs and I roll my eyes as he launches into another of his pointless rants. His voice is even more annoying over the car’s Bluetooth speakers.
The guy is as stupid as he is ruthless, and a lot of the Family would have to die simultaneously before he ever gets a shot at being the Don.
Not that he realizes it, the fucking jamoke.
“I have to go. My guy is on the move.” I hang up the phone before he can reply, then put it on silent.
Antonio has an ego the size of Texas and a habit of calling back just to get the last word in.
I don’t want to have to deal with him, and since strangling him will do nothing but get me into trouble, it’s best to just avoid the little fucker.
I settle back into my seat, content to watch the boy at his work for a few more hours. It’s been a week since Seth Luna spotted me from across the street. And he’s paranoid enough to make it hard as hell to keep an eye on him.
The kid has the street smarts that would make the Family proud.
It took me far too long to track him down because I can’t track his scent.
Having to go old school with tracking someone is not something I relish doing.
It took days to figure out the kid used an alias to rent the tiny little apartment over on Pine Street, and even longer to get a copy of his key.
I couldn’t simply break down the door either. The wards on his place may not outright kill me, but I wouldn’t have left there unscathed. They didn’t prevent me from opening the door the normal way, though. Seems they were only designed to prevent forceful entry.
Such spell work isn’t cheap, but with the number of mages and Hedge-riders in the city on account of Blackstar Academy, Seth could have found any number of people to place the wards on his place.
Unfortunately, there was nothing in his apartment that tied him back to his uncle, and with the mother completely oblivious to her brother’s associates, that left only one alternative.
Get the kid to talk. Something he seems to have no interest in doing.
Instead, I have to hunt him through the streets each evening. It seems to have become some perverse game between us. Him, the boldly-colored prey, and I, the wolf in the shadows. If it were anyone else, I would consider it foreplay, but Seth is the nephew of a rat.
All I need from him are answers. That’s what I keep repeating in my mind, anyway.
It doesn’t help. My wolf has fixated on him, intrigued by my inability to track him by scent and by the way he is able to elude us.
If I hadn’t already done a deep dive into his family history, I would have considered the possibility that he isn’t human.
So, these cat-and-mouse games have my wolf riled up and wanting to play.
Shit, I can’t be thinking like that. Not when I’m sitting out here in broad daylight. I push my hand against my junk, trying to get the damn thing to calm down. I’m getting too excited for our nightly power play.
Only once has he veered from his routine of going straight home.
Three days ago, he rushed out of work, and I only just managed to tail him to a small clinic on the other side of town.
The receptionist was less than helpful when I started asking questions, and when Seth finally came out, he looked spooked.
The woman probably told him someone had been snooping around. I can admit that I was less than professional, but everything about this kid has twisted me up.
I want him. He’s an itch that I can’t scratch, and I want nothing more than to get close to him. To know what he sounds like and what his skin feels like under my palm.
To taste him.
I’m fascinated by him, and when I’m not watching him, memories of watching him haunt me. When I’m busy with my other jobs, I can’t get him out of my head. The few hours of sleep that I get are filled with dreams of him.
I don’t understand it. I’ve rolled my oats many times in my life. A quick fuck here, a whore there. But none of them hold a candle to my newfound obsession with this man.
Even my wolf is pacing beneath my skin, impatient to get closer to him.
I’m considering taking out a hand-rolled when my cell starts vibrating on the dash. A growl trickles from my throat as I snatch it, resolved to telling Antonio where he can shove it when I freeze.
Vincent Vicellia, Don of the Family, is the one calling me. Swallowing my anger, I answer the phone with a grunt.
“How’s progress with the kid?” Vincent’s voice is smooth, like a well-aged whiskey. But it’s a whiskey tainted with poison. Don Vicellia doesn’t do small talk. If he’s calling me, there’s a damn good reason for it.
“Slow, sir. There’s nothing in his apartment, so I plan to have a talk with him tonight when he gets off work.”
Of course, Vincent knows I have no plans to actually sit the kid down and have a nice chat with him. If need be, I’ll take him to one of our safe houses and torture the information out of him. After that, I may or may not visit a Family friend who raises pigs.
“That talk will need to wait a few hours. We have a rat that needs to be flushed out. Looks to be in your area. Find him and make him disappear. You can go back to your boy after that.”
“Yes, sir,” I reply, my eyes not leaving Seth’s form as I hang up the phone. Something about referring to Seth as my boy has my dick thickening in my pants. I like the sound of that far too much, and I know I’m in trouble.
With a grimace, I pull out into the mid-afternoon traffic toward the address Vincent sent to me. With any luck, this will be a quick grab and dispatch.
***
The rat went by the name George, and I already knew he was not going to be quick to deal with. It took me hours to hunt the bastard down. Apparently, one of the guys let slip that Vincent knew of his betrayal, and he ran.
After putting a bullet in the loose-lipped mongrel, I had to track George through the city until he got himself cornered in a back alley with a busted ankle.
That tends to happen when you have a cushy life with no need or motivation to stay active. You end up pissing yourself as you beg for your life in a filthy alley.
He didn’t even put up much fight when I sank the switchblade into his throat and watched him choke on his blood.
Scowling, I grab the limp body under the arms and drag it to a half-filled dumpster.
George wasn’t obese, but the thing about dead bodies is that they are unwieldy.
They tend to flop all over the place, making them cumbersome to move. Even with super-human strength.
Eventually, I’m able to lift him over the lip of the dumpster and drop him onto the piles of trash.
Reaching in, I rearrange the bags until most of his body is covered before slamming the lid down.
Last thing I need is for some stray animal or nocturnal city pest to drag parts of him out of the dumpster within a few hours.
Would it be too much to ask for this to have happened close to an active cemetery? Ghouls tend to make short work of corpses, after all.
The rat’s death was as much of a disappointment as his life, and it made me twitchy. After all that work, I was hoping for a bit more fight. Now I’m going to have to go back to Seth, hyped up on adrenaline. Not a good look if I want the kid to talk.
It’s nearly midnight by the time I get back to Seth’s apartment, and the adrenaline has left me with nothing but restless exhaustion. I know I should just go back to my place and crash for a few hours, but my need to see him overrules my need for sleep.
Cursing, I park across the street and make my way into the apartment complex.
It’s a three-story faux stone unit that was probably built thirty years ago.
The narrow hallways are lit by blindingly bright fluorescent lights, highlighting the fact the carpet is in desperate need of replacement and the walls are a multitude of mismatched colors.
I quickly make my way to the second floor, stepping quietly up to his door. I’m lucky that this apartment doesn’t have cameras in the halls.
Putting my ear to the door, I listen intently to the sounds inside of the apartment. Everything is quiet inside.
Producing the key from my pocket and insert it into the lock, wincing when it makes an audible click.
Pushing the door open, I let myself into the apartment.
At first, I worry that the wards won’t let me through, but they hum softly and let me pass.
I close the door behind me as quietly as I can.
Just because I didn’t hear any movement, doesn’t mean he’s actually asleep.
The place looks smaller than the first time I snuck in here. The lamp in the corner is bright enough to envelop the whole half of this apartment in an amber glow. And it’s quiet, with nothing but the hum of the refrigerator breaking the silence.
But that’s not what has my inner wolf pacing beneath my skin. Seth’s scent is thick in here, a heady mix of citrus and spice that has my dick pushing at my zipper. How was I not smelling this while I followed him?
I tread softly through the living room, making my way down the short hallway that leads to the single bedroom. His door is partially closed, and I stop in front of it, listening intently. I hear nothing but soft breathing, and I slowly push open the door and immediately freeze at what I see.
Oh, fuck.