CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It’s around two AM when they walk back.
Not knowing how to feel is a strange state of being for Kade, who always knows just how to feel, and be and operate. Lachlan walks alongside him, skies dark, neon lights of late-night stores bright and humming, people everywhere and nowhere.
‘What are you gonna do about your demon bargain?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Are you just gonna let it take you?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it much.’
Kade frowns. ‘Seems like a waste.’
‘It’s not. I got to see you. I know now that you didn’t die. I’m not thrilled about you living in a different kind of prison, but maybe this is enough for you to see the bars and make your own choices. Plenty of places to go dance in the world.’
‘You could show me.’
‘Kade.’
‘It just seems so fucking pointless. You sold your soul or whatever for the power to kill everyone who did this and there’s no one left to kill.’ He stops walking abruptly, looks at Lachlan. ‘I want to see the book.’
‘I said I’ll give it to you.’
‘Yeah, but you meant leave it to me as some cowardly posthumous gift. I want to see it now.’
That fucking look on Lachlan’s face, always so indulgent, so patient, so adoring the way the cliffs adore the sea even when worn down by them. Kade hates it, wants more of it, is starting to think he’ll seriously fucking miss it when it’s gone. No one’s ever looked at him like this man does.
‘You want to try and find a loophole.’
‘There has to be one.’
‘If you want to see it, I’ll show you.’
‘Where are you staying?’
‘I’m parked up a few miles away.’
‘You said you didn’t have a car.’
Lachlan clears his throat. ‘It’s a stolen van that I’m living out of.’
‘Oh. Right.’
‘But if you want—’
‘I do.’
‘Heard.’
Lachlan turns in a different direction, no longer headed back to the Tower.
Kade steals glances at him whenever the older man’s gaze casts away, lighthousing. ‘I got that from you, I suppose? Heard?’
‘I didn’t exactly invent it, but yeah.’
‘And my codename was Cascade?’
‘It was.’
‘There a reason for that?’
‘I designated all codenames based on elements. The East Wing was water. The connecting bedrooms we reinforced were called The Cove. East Wing was Echo Bay. Mimi was Shimmer. You were Cascade.’
‘What were you?’
‘Kestrel.’
‘Makes sense. What were the other wings?’
‘West Wing was Whiskey Reach, that was your father’s domain and where the parties were held in the ballroom.
November Sky was the North Wing, mostly for show, not lived in and South Wing was Sierra Forge.
Staff residence, guest rooms and spas, all the real fancy, impressive shit that required the most work outside of security. ’
‘Sounds like a lot to manage.’
‘You’d know. You manage the Tower, right?’
‘We don’t have to host parties and shit.’
‘That was always tricky, but we adapted. I hated the parties because it was so much pressure on you to perform. It gave you anxiety attacks.’
‘So when you taught me this,’ Kade says, touching his wrist, ‘it helped?’
‘It did, but you still went through hell trying to meet his expectations. He wanted you to dance with everyone. I used to get so angry. I remember when Sorrenko took you down—’
Kade looks over fast. ‘Sorrenko?’
They stop walking. ‘Yeah?’
‘You knew Sorrenko?’
‘Mikhail was your father’s best friend. Do you remember him?’
‘No, I mean the one who runs things now.’
‘Runs what?’
‘The Moroz Front.’
Lachlan blinks hard. ‘What?’
‘Come on, everyone knows that.’
‘Roman Sorrenko died,’ Lachlan says seriously, an edge of strain to it, voice stretched on the last word. ‘He can’t run—’
‘Vasily Sorrenko is the boss.’
Lachlan’s jaw drops. ‘Are you messing with me?’
‘I’m really not. He’s a fucker,’ Kade adds sharply. ‘The only syndicate who refused to sign the Varrow City Accords. He attacks us at least once a month, although it’s never anything big. Boss calls it games. Back and forth in the tunnels. Secret messages that self-destruct.’
‘Vasily commands the Moroz Front,’ Lachlan says, as if what he’s saying is so ridiculous that speaking it aloud must jostle the truth. ‘Silly? Our Silly?’
‘The fuck are you talking about?’
‘He—are you sure?’
‘I’ve never seen him in person, but everyone knows his name. Vasily Sorrenko. I take it you knew him?’
‘He lived with us in the Estate.’ Lachlan shakes himself. ‘Sorry, I’m just… shocked.’
‘Why?’
‘Vasily was so shy. He used to make cookies. Mimi adored him. Mikhail sent him to me because he wanted him kept out of things, kept safe. He used to read to Mimi by the lake when I trained you. He hated violence.’
‘Well, he runs a massive crime syndicate now,’ Kade says. ‘I don’t know what to tell you. People change.’
They resume walking.
Lachlan seems buried deep in thought.
‘You’ve never met him?’
‘I rarely leave the Tower.’
‘He’s never come there personally?’
‘Vasily Sorrenko isn’t stupid enough to expose himself.’
‘He’d recognise you if he saw you.’
‘Like I said, we’ve never met.’
‘What were these self-destructing messages?’
‘They were meant to harm Riley, obviously. The one time I got one to him safely, it melted when Riley touched it. They try every now and then, like we’re stupid enough to fall for it again.’
‘Did you ever read any?’
‘They’re for the boss of Iron Star, not me.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Because I’m a grunt, Tanner,’ Kade snaps. ‘If old man Penhalyx got a message delivered to the Estate, would you believe it was for you?’
‘Fair point.’
They turn right down a dark alleyway.
It’s deathly quiet away from the city street, ripe with new smells and scents.
‘What are you thinking?’ Kade asks, irritably. He’s getting the worst stomach ache of his life after all the dancing, drinking and French toast. ‘I can hear you thinking, Bodyguard, what—?’
The attack comes out of nowhere, explodes from the shadows, no breathing, no fabric rustle, no giveaways whatsoever.
For the first time in his life, Kade is caught off-guard.
The punch has him seeing yellow stars behind his eyes, pure explosion of the unexpected. It jars his senses hard, disorients Kade, has him reeling.
But only for a second.
He pushes off the dumpster, regains equilibrium and then gets stuck into the fight, and fuck yeah, it’s a good one.
Sharp instinct takes over, fighting in the dark is something Kade is so very good at. He shouldn’t be punching at all, fucked his knuckles already, but he doesn’t feel it as he moves through the sea of attackers, fighting them off one by one, follows his heartbeat, his guide, his instincts.
Violence comes easy. He makes art of it.
Elbow strike, body-shot, hammerfist, uppercut. He gives no one the chance to draw back and regain balance, no opportunity to breathe.
Destabilise, remove balance, destroy the threat.
No fancy moves, no trading blows.
The bones go crunch, the blood sprays like rain and the soft grunts of well-trained attackers are a muted symphony to Kade as he gets stuck in on the final three. He’s only thrown a look Lachlan’s way once, knows not to split his attention. Lachlan hardly needs help, so Kade focuses on himself.
The last three are the best.
He dodges a spin kick but isn’t fast enough to avoid the next, and it gets him good, he’s briefly unable to breathe. Even so, he defends himself, uses his surroundings. The wall, the dumpster, he smashes them against whatever is near and takes one out clean with a throat crush.
Kade spits blood and faces down the final two, but Lachlan has torn clean through his side of things and comes to help.
‘Leave me one,’ Kade warns.
‘Heard.’
One apiece, Kade starts in on his while Lachlan does the same.
They’re momentarily side by side.
Kade takes his guy down in four moves.
Crash entry, knee strike, inside trip and then a neck break.
He’s breathless, surfing the pure chemical high that dances inside him like light on water. He toes the body, finds it heavy and quiet. When Kade looks over at Lachlan, eyes adjusting to the darkness now, he sees his one is still alive, writhing on the ground.
‘Need a little help?’ he teases, winded.
‘In case you want to ask him questions,’ Lachlan says, not even a little bit out of breath, the fucker.
He hauls the man up, yanks off his ski mask and then sort of dangles him before Kade by the hair the way a once wild pet might bring in a catch to give their human the honour of final kill. ‘Here.’
‘You shouldn’t have,’ Kade purrs, doesn’t bother talking to the guy, it’ll just dampen his high. Instead, he searches him all over, gets a solid read from what he finds. Unmarked gun, ID in his wallet, familiar tattoo on his wrist. ‘Low level gang member. No one serious.’
‘You want me to do it?’
‘Nah, let him go.’
Lachlan makes a sound of displeasure but tosses the guy loose, who scrambles away fast, boots smacking on concrete.
‘Are you hurt?’ Lachlan asks roughly when it’s just the two of them in the dark, surrounded by bodies, both of them bloody, bruised and breathless.
When Kade doesn’t answer, Lachlan takes rough hold of his face, turning it so he can see, like he must see, and what very little light there is catches in Lachlan’s eyes strangely, cat-like and faintly iridescent.
‘Ribs all right? They used to fold sometimes when—’
Something crests inside Kade, who inhales sharply. He falls into Lachlan’s space, lips crushing against his to kiss.
He’s kissing him.
It’s perfect. It’s gross. It’s painful. Bliss.
Kissing in the dark, covered in blood, this man is so fucking dangerous and Kade should know better for so many reasons, but his heart is making rivers of golden light, and his mind is singing and he’s wanted to kiss this motherfucker for what feels like forever.
He has wanted it despite so much.
Chest to chest, his mouth on Lachlan’s is achingly good, just that simple press is everything. It leaves Kade dizzy in new ways.