20. XX
XX
Echo
I was late for the monthly meeting, thanks to my deranged roommate. I’d just spent the last hour shifting Melonie’s unconscious body into the back of a van where an allocated Vice doctor could monitor her condition. Sure, she wasn’t the smartest girl, but I hope she didn’t end up braindead from the lack of oxygen. How was she supposed to suck dick then?
Entering the elevator, I pressed the code to Aster’s penthouse. I wasn’t ready to return to my apartment. I had to cool down or Spencer had to hide, cause if I caught her, she was going to be punished, whether she liked it or not. Spencer had incapacitated one of our top earners for the past month. The money we’d lose that night alone was enough to fucking cringe over.
I swept into the penthouse office one and a half hours after the meeting time, Aster in her usual spot at the head of the long conference table, full martini in front of her. The room was bustling with all relevant underbosses and captains of Vice, vying for favour from their rigid mistress—who was currently staring daggers at one of her underlings as they voiced excuses for their decreased revenue.
She didn’t pitch any interest my way as I slid into the remaining seat at her right-hand side, specifically allocated for me.
I bowed my head slightly. “Apologies for the tardiness, Mistress, I had a matter to attend to.”
Aster flicked an errant hand in the air, attention never deviating off her prey. “No need to elaborate. Spencer updated me on the incident.”
Oh, did she, now?
My jaw ticked. I couldn’t pinpoint what was going on with those two. It didn’t help that I tried to keep my thoughts busy and off Spencer while on the other side, Aster was welcoming her with open arms. I could feel a sense of possession stirring, but I couldn’t distinguish which woman that feeling was geared towards—a harrowing realisation on which I didn’t linger.
“What are we doing about this second assassination attempt, Mistress?” another underboss piped down the end of the table. My back snapped rigid at the question.
Tension fell over the room, all eyes on Aster—including mine, which burnt with the intensity of betrayal. Endless questions sparked in my brain about the new information that I wasn’t privy to.
I lifted a brow to Sudo, who sat across from me, occupying the seat to Aster’s left. She gave an inconspicuous shake of her head, letting me know she had just as much of an idea as I did. Not helpful.
Aster perused her razor-sharp nails as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “It’s being handled.”
“ By fucking who ?” I asked, my Variant unintentionally triggered, making the words intense and seething. I knew it wasn’t the time to address it, but I also didn’t give a fuck. We’d always presented a united front, so why was she acting like I was some nameless subordinate?
Aster’s eyes swung to mine, the crimson depths roiling like the hottest flames from hell. “Careful,” she said, so light that it should have been enough warning.
I went to reply when the double doors slammed open, all heads and guns shifting to the resounding intrusion. Centre stage stood Spencer, a black designer dress hugging her curves as her mile long legs gave way to sky-high stilettos that could slit a man’s throat. She was immaculate, her hair perfectly curled, and make-up that accentuated her striking features.
The earth paused on its axis as her presence captured every single molecule in the vicinity. Then, she gave a remarkable grin, her red cherry lollipop peeking from the inside of her mouth. Fucking tease.
It was an illusion, one that I was well-versed in—her face lethal, that smile poisonous. To be caught in her trance was a death wish, a slow demise that I was trying to resist, but failing at all the same.
Blinking rapidly, I soon found the whole room overcome with the same affliction. That’s when I noticed a naked, ragged man hunched over on all fours at her feet, head bowed low. Around his neck was a spiked black dog collar with a lead attached, the handle grasped tightly in Spencer’s delicate hand.
She pulled on the lead, making cooing noises to her little pet who crawled behind, coming to a halt beside Aster, whose face was lit up like she was receiving a limited edition designer handbag.
Unceremoniously, Spencer chucked the lead up in the air for Aster to catch, then smoothly dropped into my lap as if that’s where she always belonged—and with the way her ass perfectly settled between my legs, my body was ready to admit the same. My hands moved without an order, gliding over her hips, reeling her in until her back completely lined my chest. Her toxic, sweet scent invaded my system, and I was already high, intoxicated.
“What have you brought for our mistress, Ghost? What breed of dog is this?” I questioned, my breath skating down her neck, evoking a shiver to skitter down her spine.
Said dog remained on all fours, forehead touching the carpet, sandy brown hair matted with blood.
Spencer flicked a piercing green eye over her shoulder to me. “My dear Echo, this isn’t a dog. Dogs are loyal. This here is a mutt. A rabid animal that has to be put down.” Her gaze then bounced to Aster, who watched our exchange with pinpointed focus. “I told you I’d find him, did I not, old girl?”
As if the place wasn’t wired already, that statement sent everyone teetering on a perilous edge. All the Vice leaders remained reserved, silently assessing our new addition, who had prime position beside their boss and in my arms. Some appeared irritated, others challenged, while most looked like they wanted to explore every inch of her luscious body. Nah, that won’t do.
Then, Aster laughed—legitimately fucking giggled—and Spencer joined her, the abnormal sounds distorted and strange as they ricocheted off the walls.
I was frozen, completely weirded out by the whole dynamic. I’d never seen Mistress so attentive or receptive…towards anyone. Aster was a cold, hard bitch, her mind and emotions wicked sharp, almost as cutting as her nails—which could end one’s life with a single flick of her finger. Her temperament wasn’t built to accommodate demanding, spoilt brats, but to discipline them back into line instead.
As I opened my mouth, words were forced back down my throat as Spencer shifted and shoved her lollipop between my lips. The taste of cherry and her made a repressed groan skate between my teeth. I had gotten away with a semi, but now there was no denying I was hard as fucking rock, my cock digging into her sweet ass as she kept bouncing around in my lap.
Spencer ignored me and leant over the armrest, wrenching the hair of her new pet until his neck snapped upward, displaying his battered, bruised face—a face that was recognisable and all too familiar. Aster hissed as for the second time that night, the room hushed into strained tension, eyes taking in their fellow Vice captain, forced to his knees in ruin.
Spencer crooned on as if she hadn’t just revealed the ultimate treachery. “Be a good boy and tell your mistress what you told me.”
The fiendish mutt legitimately growled before Spencer slammed his forehead into the floor, the impact giving a resounding crack. She then pressed back against me, wiggling to get comfortable, which made my fingers grip ever tighter, the soft material of her dress tantalising and soft. I want to rip it to shreds.
Spencer leant into my bruising hold as if she liked it and fixed Aster with a serious expression. “Bryce has been selling information to the Ludus, including your whereabouts and best possible locations to get you killed. In exchange for your death, he was offered your position as head of Vice.” My frame vibrated from the damning accusation, spoken as fact, her tone rigid with no room for miscommunication.
Soft mumblings and restrained whispers of denial could be heard from the outskirts, questioning the newcomer and the validity of her word. Aster’s penetrating stare had not left Spencer’s, their features identically severe.
Then, Spencer continued, her voice mocking. “You know my methods are ironclad and indisputable. We have an understanding, Aster, but do not be fooled. If you are too weak to uphold your corporation and subjects, that understandin g may have to be re-evaluated.”
“Weak?” Aster replied.
Spencer inclined her head slightly, further taunting my mistress. I shouldn’t have found the challenge sexy, my reaction unfathomable, but her goading was an aphrodisiac that decimated any sane thought.
She was a compelling stimulant in my bloodstream, powerful venom infecting every cell with her specific brand of crazy—and I wanted to drown in it, dose myself in her till there was nothing left.
With my wayward, lust-filled mind reeling, I nearly missed it as the mutt on his knees decided he didn’t want to await his sentence quietly. Bellowing like a madman, he heaved from the floor, wrenching his head upward with a gaping jaw, shining canines ready to pierce and bite into the closest target—Spencer. Pure, volcanic rage consumed me, erupting into an uncontrollable outburst that would not be contained.
“ Heel, mutt!” His progress fumbled when my Variant hit him with the force of a battering ram.
I shoved backward in the chair, shifting Spencer in my lap and out of reach. No way was he getting his filthy, disease-ridden flesh anywhere near my girl. I’d rip out his teeth for even trying. But before I could get my hands on him, someone had beaten me to it.
In the moments it had taken me to pivot Spencer out of his attack range, Aster had wrenched on the lead still attached to his collar. He careened off balance, falling towards Aster, whose hand was plunged and embedded into his abdomen, her nails parting his flesh as if he was made of warm putty. Bryce coughed, a steady flow of scarlet leaking from his mouth.
Then, he cackled—a deranged death rattle before he said his finishing statement. Knowing full well demise was upon him, he didn’t hold back. “I may not have finished you, you old witch.” Cough. Splatter. Cough. “But at least I’ll leave with something. Consider your precious Playhouse gone.”
Aster’s face twisted into rage before she yanked her hand from his body, showering the chamber in red as a river of blood poured from the gaping hole in his gut.
As his lifeless form thumped to the ground, Aster reached for her miraculously unscathed martini and downed the contents.
Tremors wracked my frame, wanting to cause damage, but unable to find a suitable outlet. I couldn’t help but feel disappointed that I missed out on that kill. And to know that Playhouse was under attack?
A sure, warm palm skirted over my jaw as Spencer stole the lollipop from my mouth and wrapped her lips around the candy where mine had once been. Her green eyes blazed with mischievous menace, engraving into my brain matter, the gleaming shine emphasised by the deep red specks that sprinkled over her pale skin.
“I’m hungry,” she said. I was fucking ravenous . I grumbled while a childish pout lifted from her lips. Fuck, how I wanted to kiss her— Wait. What?
No time was wasted. Spencer hotwired a random motorbike, and before she could protest, I jumped on the back.
We screeched to a halt outside Playhouse, half of the building already up in flames, the plume of smoke tunnelling into the night sky. Spencer didn’t seem perturbed, face set with determination as she stepped towards the entrance. “Remi’s working tonight.”
I pulled on her arm. And with a quick sweep of the crowd, I quickly deduced that he wasn’t among the bystanders looking at the house of flames.
I ground my teeth. “I’ll find him. Just promise me you’ll stay put.”
Before she could reply, I pivoted, ripped off my shirt and made a makeshift filter, tying it round the lower half of my face. It was utter fucking chaos as I sprinted into the lobby. The place was riddled with people trying to make their escape, while the burning foundations rumbled in alarm.
My skin itched with heat as I made my way to the bar out back. We had a lot of revenue and cash holed up in that place, and I wasn’t about to lose it to some upstart who thought he could take it all away.
Two bartenders were hurriedly loading stacks of cash into bags from the open safe, trying to salvage what they could. They knew they’d be dead anyway if Aster didn’t get her money. They had nearly emptied the chamber by the time I checked on them.
“Finish up and get the fuck out of here!” I managed to shout despite the escalating heat and thickening smoky air.
Their sweaty heads gave a nod of acknowledgement and continued with their task, funnelling faster than before. Now, I could concentrate on the next task at hand.
I hesitated in the threshold, the clear predicament before me. To save her “best friend” or let him perish in that hellhole? I could even get away with it and claim that I tried my best, but my efforts were in vain. Could my conscience handle that type of guilt? I was an asshole, but could I let Remi forgo his death out of jealousy of the connection he had with Spencer—a connection I did not know the extent of, but that made me foolishly unreasonable all the same.
I didn’t have to linger long on the moral dilemma as I re-entered the lobby, when a flash of auburn caught my attention. Fucking Spencer. Her ass dashed up the steep staircase and down the corridor, towards Remi’s room.
I was going to fucking kill her… again.
Launching into action, I followed. As soon as I entered the upstairs corridor, my eyes watered and lungs seized with the suffocating fumes. The walls gave another alarming roar, and an inkling of fear flashed in my chest.
I have to find her. Now.
Remi’s black door loomed in front of me, but refused to budge. “SPENCER!” I repeatedly screamed between bouts of coughing. I heard no reply, and unbridled panic riddled my body as the flames grew higher. I could feel them creeping at my back, the embers licking at my flesh.
With my strength failing, I mustered what little I had left and barrelled towards the door. The slab broke off its hinges with a mighty groan as I landed in Remi’s room.
Immediate relief was short-lived as Spencer sat facing outward on the windowsill, staring down at the two-storey drop, completely frozen.
With my distress of Spencer’s danger subsiding, only urgency remained. Peeking a glance behind me, safe passage was futile the way we’d come, giving only one option of escape.
I saddled the windowsill alongside her, movements slow with trepidation. “There’s no other way, Ghost.”
Then her green eyes raised to mine, searching, intense and riddled with unease. I knew she would not move, her fear of heights entirely paralysing.
Spencer was a pain in my ass, but I couldn’t fathom the thought of her getting hurt again. On instinct, I pulled her into my chest and onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her frame in protection when a ghastly howl thundered from behind, and the ceiling cracked under the onslaught.
All I could see was a cloud of debris pounding down as a gust of fire blew directly towards us, the assault so rapid that I didn’t have time to react.
Our bodies launched into the air as we fell to our demise.
Pain.
That’s all I could process as my lids fluttered against the heavy weight pressing them down.
Blaring sirens screeched against my eardrums, and my rib cage ached with every laboured breath that passed my lips.
I was flat on my back, the pavement digging uncomfortably into my skin as the view above filtered with incandescent red, blue and black.
I sensed Spencer twisting out of my embrace until she knelt beside me, entirely unblemished and perfectly kept as if she hadn’t dropped two stories from a burning fucking building.
When we were thrust from the window, I managed to spin mid-air, ensuring I received the full brunt of the fall. The action was subconscious and one I regretted, based on the potent pain now radiating throughout my entire body.
Spencer ran a warm palm down the side of my face, her hand coming away black with soot. Then, Remi stepped up behind her, shirtless with his golden pecs gleaming like he was some avenging god. If I wasn’t physically comatose, I would have killed him on the spot.
Spencer’s gaze caught mine, and there was no doubt she could see the murderous intent shining in my eyes. In return, she winked and stood upright while Remi placed his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side.
That last vision fucking gut me as Spencer’s haunting devil smile hovered above me in condemnation.