Chapter 35
Malachai
It was almost six in the afternoon when I made it to Caine’s place.
“I want him gone. Dead. Only half of a body left to bury,” I said, my voice a low, mechanical vibration that seemed to rattle the glass on the desk.
I threw the frozen head onto Caine’s desk, wrapped tightly in layers of clear cellophane.
He didn’t even look at it. “Today. I don’t care about the optics anymore. He put that head on my doorstep.”
Kael turned away from the window, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Besides the war that killing him would start, it might not be that simple, Malachai. We misjudged him. After you called me this morning and told me what he’d done, and about recognizing the coins on the eyes, I called a friend at the FBI.
That’s a signature of some hitter who ran through Maryland, Texas, and New York—all rivals to the Black Axe.
Everybody thinks Chinedu is just a tech scion rebelling against his father.
We were wrong. Or maybe I’m just speculating, because Chinedu can’t be more than thirty, which means he would have had to be catching bodies while he was still in middle school. ”
I leaned back, my jaw tight enough to crack. “So he’s a killer. He can still die. Everyone can.”
“Calm down,” Caine spoke up, his tone authoritative.
“I spoke to his father this morning. The old man was blunt. He told me—and I quote—'No dey fight over pussy, my brother. Woman no worth war.' He’s not looking for a fight with us, Malachai. He said Chinedu is just finishing business here—some tech merger—and he’ll be back in New York in a week. He gave his word the boy will stay in his lane.”
“His lane is currently running right through my wife's space,” I snapped. I stood up abruptly, the heavy leather chair screeching against the floorboards like a dying animal. “I talked to Indigo about staying away from him this morning; she’s not listening. I’m going to talk to her again.
I’m telling her everything. The head, our suspicions, the threats.
She just needs to stay the fuck away from him. ”
“How is that going to work out for you?” Kael asked, his voice quiet, almost pitying. “After the Sasha debacle? She’s going to think you’re being jealous.”
“I thought of that. I’ll lock her back up.”
Kael threw his hands up in exasperation. “Here we go again. This is getting real repetitive.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. The pressure behind my eyes was too great for words. I grabbed my keys from the desk and headed for my car. I needed to see Indigo.
I pulled out of the compound and hit the main road, heading straight for her studio. I reached the traffic light just before the highway entrance, idling behind a delivery truck. I tapped my fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel, trying to regulate the rage pacing in my chest.
The sharp roar of a high-performance engine pulled my eyes to the side mirror.
A black sportbike lane-filtered through the gridlock, pulling up directly beside my driver’s side window.
The rider was a woman, her dark skin glistening beneath the tinted visor of her helmet.
Waist-length braids spilled out from beneath the carbon-fiber shell, whipping in the wind like black snakes.
She was clad in all-black leather that tightly hugged her curvy body.
She didn't look at the light. She looked directly at me. She smiled.
I saw the glint of metal a millisecond before I saw her hand move. My hand flew toward the holster at my hip, but the world suddenly dropped into slow motion.
The first shot shattered the driver’s side window, showering me in a crystalline spray of safety glass.
Pain exploded in my shoulder—white-hot and blinding.
Then my side. Then my thigh. I felt the wet, rapid heat of my own blood instantly soaking through my shirt.
I pulled my gun, my fingers slick and fumbling against the grip as the copper smell filled the air, but the world was already tilting on its axis.
The motorcycle tore off through the red light, fading into the distance as my vision blurred into a heavy, dark red.
My hand slipped uselessly off the wheel. I felt the car roll forward into the intersection, but my foot couldn't find the brake. The air in the cabin tasted like metallic copper and gunpowder.
The last thing I thought before everything went completely black was how Indigo looked dancing that very first day.