4. SIREN
4
SIREN
W hat in the ever-loving fuck just happened up on that rooftop?
All I could do was stare after him as he disappeared into the night, and even then, I couldn’t bring myself to get up and leave. I’ve been a callous killer for the better part of a decade, and despite all the ridiculous situations I’ve found myself in, I’ve never been as terrified as I was on top of that warehouse. If I wasn’t worried about being hunted during my sleep, I’d take a Xanax or five to chill me the fuck out.
It took me twenty minutes after Reaper left before I was able to find the nerve to march my ass off the roof and slip back through the side streets to my car. He left me shaken, and that’s not a feeling I’m used to.
Driving through the empty streets of Blue Springs, I bring up Mila’s number and call her over the car’s Bluetooth system, listening as the first ring only gets halfway through before she quickly answers. “What the hell took you so long?” my best friend demands, her voice filling my car. “I’ve been waiting forever to hear what the fuck went down in that warehouse. I tried to hack my way into their footage, but they put up too many firewalls. I couldn’t get through to save my life.”
“Shit. You don’t know then?”
“Know what?” she panics.
I let out a heavy breath, having no idea where to even start with the bullshit otherwise known as my night. “I maybe shouldn’t have jumped the gun. You were right to want to do all your research first.”
“What do you mean? What happened?”
“It’s not what , but who. ”
“Huh?”
“Reaper.”
“Reaper?” Mila questions, confusion thick in her tone. “You mean The Texan Reaper?”
“No,” I start. “Well . . . Yes. He’s here, but he won’t be a problem. I mean the real Reaper. The OG Reaper. The one I assumed was a figment of my imagination.”
“No,” she says, and I can practically picture the way she’s shaking her head with furrowed brows. “No. That’s not right. He’s not actually real. I’ve looked into this guy a million times. He literally doesn’t exist. They’re just stories made up by the media. A scapegoat the cops fabricated to pin their unsolved high-profile cases on.”
“I know all that, but everyone is wrong. I looked him dead in the eyes, and he’s . . . terrifying. I could practically hear the second every last person in that warehouse went into heart failure. He’s as real as they get, but what I can’t work out is why he’s here. Why now? I’m sure he’s probably been invited to attend War Games a million times, so why is this year different? Is he just looking for a way to pass the time or does he get off on the hunt like the rest of them? Could it be for the prize money?”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Mila whispers, the heartbreak clear in her tone, realizing exactly what I did the moment I saw Reaper. My chances of winning this thing just dwindled all the way down to zero. “There’s no way to back out?”
“No,” I tell her. “But I wouldn’t anyway. I don’t back down. Ever. I just have to be better. I have to find a way to win because dying here in Montana is not an option.”
“Okay, so I’ll do a little digging and see what I can pull up. There’s gotta be something we can use to get an edge on him. If we can at least figure out his preferred weapons or style, then you can figure out a plan to get the upper hand.”
I can’t keep the scoff from sailing out of my mouth. “With all the false stories and kills that have been pinned on him, it’d be impossible to tell what’s real and what’s not. It’ll be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“I know,” she breathes. “But just like you don’t like backing down, neither do I. If anyone can find this bastard, it’s me. Besides, I can’t have you spending all your time on this when you need to focus on the other eighteen contenders.”
“Thirteen,” I tell her. “Five went down outside the warehouse.”
“No shit,” she laughs. “You guys don’t fuck around.”
“They were the weak ones with egos,” I say, flying down the road toward the Blue Springs holiday resort that I’ve decided to stay at. Not that they’re aware of that, of course. “They were weeded out, and now we’re left with the real competition.”
“Okay. Anyone you want me to specifically look into?”
“Yeah, actually,” I say, my brows furrowing as I think over the faces I memorized tonight. “There’s two in particular who seemed too alike. Their facial structures were almost identical. It’s like they’re cousins or something. Maybe brothers. I’m not sure, but I think it’s worth looking into because if they’re working as a team, then I’ll have to adjust my approach.”
“Names?”
“The Texan Reaper and The Boneyard Slayer.”
“The Boneyard Slayer?” she laughs. “What kind of ridiculous name is that? Is he some kind of caveman who kills people with the bones of his other victims?”
“Who knows, but if someone is going to find information on this guy, it’s you. Though, with a name like that, something tells me digging up information won’t be too hard.”
“Sounds about right,” she murmurs, her voice going quiet as though she’s momentarily distracted, probably writing the names down. “Anyone else?”
“Ummm,” I pause for a moment, going over the names. “There’s this chick, Gasoline. She looked a little rough, and if her name is anything to go by, my guess is she’s an arsonist. I doubt she’ll be much of a problem. She seemed to know this other woman, Silver. So I’m hoping they’ll take each other out so I won’t have to worry about them.”
“That hardly seems fun,” she says, just as I pull into the holiday resort and come to a stop outside the main gate. I type the code Mila created for me into the keypad and watch with an odd satisfaction as the gate begins to open. Mila never misses.
“Tell me about it,” I say, slowly easing onto the gas again. “There was one thing I found really odd, and honestly, I really don’t know how to feel about it.”
“What’s that?”
“One of the contenders. She said her name is Shadow, and I know looks can be really deceiving these days, but I could have sworn she was only a child.”
“The fuck? What do you mean? Like sixteen, seventeen years old?”
“No. Like twelve or thirteen.”
“No. There’s no way,” Mila says, her tone shifting with unease as I drive through the resort, searching for my private villa. “I know the guy who organizes this shit is a complete bastard with absolutely no morals, but surely he’s not putting children into this.”
“That’s what I would have thought until I was standing opposite this kid, and I don’t know. There was something about the way she was watching the contenders around her. She wasn’t scared or even trying to work out who her biggest competition was. She was just . . . curious. It was like she had already worked each of us out before we’d even stated our aliases, even Reaper.”
Mila’s fingers click across her keyboard, and I shake my head, already knowing that she’s not about to find anything on this girl. She’s too young, and with a common name like Shadow, it would be impossible to filter through the millions of hits.
Reaching my private villa, I pull my car into the small driveway and cut the engine before jamming my phone under my ear. Mila groans and sighs, getting more and more frustrated at not being able to find a scrap of information on this young girl.
“She’s practically a ghost.”
“With a name like Shadow, are you really surprised?” I ask, grabbing my bags from the back of my car before striding up the short path toward the front door. “She’s probably got some kind of Black Widow story and is a trained assassin for some secret government agency.”
Mila barks out a laugh. “Really?”
“Hey! It could happen.”
I can practically hear her rolling her eyes through the phone. “Secret government agency or not, I’ll keep searching and see if I can come up with anything. Either way, the War Games are no place for a child. You need to keep an eye out for her. They’ll target her assuming she’s inexperienced, and I know she’s technically your competition, but you and I both know you’ll never be able to live with yourself if something happens to that kid. You need to protect her.”
“If I can somehow track her down, that’s exactly what I’ll do, but something tells me she’s not as inexperienced as most would assume. There’s something in her eyes. She’s seen shit no child should ever have to see. I think she’s more of a threat than anybody could expect. Except for Reaper, of course.”
“Just keep an eye out for her . . . or on her, ” she says as I reach the front door and have to adjust the bags in my hands to be able to type in the passcode—the same one I entered at the front gate.
The door opens, and I break into the small villa. Even with the lights out and nothing but the soft moonlight streaming through the window, I can already tell it’s more than enough for what I need. And I don’t mean because it boasts a state-of-the-art kitchen with brand-new flooring, and every luxury amenity a woman could need. And by amenities, I mean the prime location of the front door, the back one, and the countless windows in every room that offer me an easy escape route from anywhere inside. The structure itself is sturdy enough to protect me from gunfire, and the open layout of the kitchen and living areas makes it almost impossible for anyone to get the drop on me.
“It’s perfect, right?” Mila says, always so proud of herself.
I quickly glance back, scanning the darkness outside and double and triple checking that no one has followed me here before locking the door behind me. “It’s as though you know me or something.”
She laughs again, and a stupid smile pulls at the corner of my lips. I’m not usually the smiling type, but there’s something about Mila that always makes me smile. She’s gifted that way, and I wouldn’t change a thing about her.
Making my way deeper into the villa, I drop my bags into the small bedroom while quickly glancing around the room, and just like the rest of the villa, I can’t possibly fault it. I’ll be able to sleep peacefully in here. And from the looks of the bed, comfortably as well.
“So, that’s it?” Mila asks. “No other bombs to drop on me about your night?”
I can’t help but laugh. “I mean, there might be one . . . or possibly two more bombs you don’t know about yet.”
She sucks in an audible breath. “You better not be holding out on me.”
“Wait,” I say. “Three. There are three bombs.”
“Siren!”
I laugh to myself as I take the phone from my ear, put it on speakerphone, and drop it to the bed so that I can rummage through my bags for my favorite silk pajamas. “Well,” I start. “343 . . .”
Mila sucks in an audible gasp. “The Tech Guy?” she demands. “He’s one of the contestants?”
A stupid grin rips across my face. Mila has been crushing on this guy for years. Though considering she’s never seen his face, I can only assume it’s his skills she’s attracted to. “He sure is,” I tell her. “But I don’t understand how he thinks he could possibly have a chance at winning this thing. I mean, sure. He’ll have a better chance of tracking the contenders than most, but he’s actually pretty scrawny. He doesn’t strike me as the type to be able to hold his own when it comes down to it.”
“Shit,” she says with a heavy sigh. “You’re going to have to kill him.”
“Yeah . . . sorry. Unless somebody else beats me to him, of course.”
“Damn. I was really hoping that behind the screen, he’d be this really awesome guy with a killer smile, and then one day, we’d accidentally run into each other at an internet café and fall madly in love.”
“Sorry, Mills. There’s no killer smile when it comes to 343. He’s more of the lives in his mother’s basement type. You dodged a bullet there, but never fear, if it’s love at first sight you’re looking for, then I can put a list together.”
“Hell no. The only color you like is red. I don’t need you setting me up with some guy who’s going to gut me like a fish in my sleep.”
“Oh come on. I set you up with a serial killer one time. It’s not like I knew the guy was intending to turn you into a human pincushion. How could I have possibly known? He was hot and sweet and looked like he more than knew what he was doing in the bedroom. It was an honest accident.”
“The answer is still no.”
“Fine,” I huff. “But speaking of red flags. Reaper really has that dark and deadly thing going for him, and I really wouldn’t mind—”
“No,” Mila demands, cutting me off. “You’re not fucking Reaper.”
“But—”
“No. Are you insane?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I mean . . .”
“Yeah, stupid question,” Mila mutters. “But seriously. He’s your biggest competition during these games, and your solution to figuring out how to get an edge on him is to what? Shake your ass in hopes of luring him in? Hope that if you screw him well enough he might take pity on you and give you a merciful death? What could you possibly gain from that?”
“Trust me. You didn’t see the way he was looking at me. He’s lethal. Every inch of his body is perfectly carved, and every movement he made was so precise. He doesn’t leave room for mistakes, and I’ve never been so attracted to something in my life. I just . . . I’m not crazy, okay? I know getting close to him would be stupid, but can’t a girl dream? Do you have any idea how well a man like that would fuck? It would be earth-shattering.”
“I don’t doubt that, but no amount of incredible sex is worth losing your life over.”
“Uhhh . . . Well—”
“No, Siren. The answer is no. You’re coming home to me at the end of the month. No question about it. Your only goal while you’re there is to win these games, and that’s not going to happen by fucking Reaper.”
“What if I didn’t fuck him? I could just go down on him instead. How lethal could he be with his cock down my throat? Actually, do you think he’s pierced? He doesn’t strike me as the pierced kind, but men like Reaper have the ability to surprise me in ways I never could have imagined.”
“I swear—”
“Okay, okay. I’ll only dream about giving the world’s best BJ instead of actually giving it. But let the record state that I’m not happy about it. And Mila, after I end this man’s life, I’m taking a look under the hood, and if it turns out that he’s pierced with a veiny monster cock, you and I are going to have words.”
“Whatever you say, princess.”
I let out a huff, never having been more disappointed in my life, but she makes a very good point. In the interest of saving my life, my only goal should be to take Reaper down, learn his weaknesses, and exploit them. It’ll be the biggest challenge of my life, but if I can somehow pull this off, I’ll become a legend among my peers. I’ll be unstoppable and known as the best of the best until my dying days. But if I can’t pull this off, if I’m stupid enough to allow Reaper to get close enough to end my life, I’ll just be another number, another victim, another loser who couldn’t pull off the impossible.
After getting dressed into my pajamas, I grab one of my other bags and haul it onto the bed, pulling out the array of security devices I’ll need to protect my home for the next thirty days. “So, you wanna hear bomb number three or not?”
“Well duh,” she says as I scoop up the motion sensors and security cameras and make my way back out to the kitchen.
“You remember Raven, right?”
Mila sucks in a breath, and with just that slight sound, I can already hear her excitement. “No fucking way! The bitch who tried pinning four of her kills on you a few years back?”
“The one and only.”
“Oh shit! I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
“You and me both,” I say as I grab a chair from behind the small island counter and drag it across the room, finding the best positions to set up the surveillance cameras. “I’m going to be pissed if someone beats me to her, but at least I’ll always have the satisfaction of seeing her face when I stepped forward in that circle and she realized exactly who I was.”
“Damn it. I’m so annoyed I couldn’t get a live feed into that warehouse. It would have been so good.”
“Oh, it was,” I say, wishing I was allowed to bring some sort of surveillance into that warehouse, but I’m a stickler for the rules . . . kind of.
Mila and I chat as I make my way around the villa, getting everything set up. Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting at the kitchen counter with my laptop, looking over the system I just set up and checking it for blind spots.
“What do you think?” I ask Mila as she looks over the live feed.
“Couldn’t have done it better myself,” she says as I listen to the familiar sound of her fingers flying across her keyboard. “There. I’ve linked it to your phone as well. So as long as you have a decent signal, you should be able to bring it up anywhere.”
“Perfect,” I say, grabbing my phone and refreshing the screen to see the system staring right back at me. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Mills.”
“Iammorethanawareofthat,” she says in a yawn, her words jumbling together. “Just do me a favor and don’t die, because if you do, I’m going to be really fucking pissed, okay?”
“Promise, I won’t die.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Okay, fine. I promise that I will try my hardest not to die.”
“Good. In that case, I’m out. I’ll talk to your bitch ass tomorrow,” she tells me. “Try to get some sleep, then in the morning, we can start hunting these assholes.”
Excitement drums through my veins as the idea of really getting to start the hunt truly sinks in. I feel as though I’ve been waiting a lifetime for this, and now that it’s finally here, I can barely keep myself contained. “It’s like music to my ears,” I tell my best friend. “You try and get some sleep too, okay? Because we both know that you’re going to lie down in your bed and close your eyes for all of three seconds before reaching for your phone again. Reaper and 343 can wait until tomorrow. They aren’t coming for me tonight.”
Mila scoffs, and I hear the smile in her tone. “Yeah, yeah,” she says. “I’m hanging up now.”
A laugh bubbles up my throat, and before I can say another word, my best friend is gone, leaving me alone to figure out my game plan for the next thirty days. Only problem with a competition like this is that my game plan needs to constantly evolve. This game can change by the minute, and though I need to be prepared, I don’t need to be prepared until tomorrow.
For now, all that matters is closing my eyes and dreaming about all the fun I won’t be having with Reaper.