19. Dominic
After the limousine pulled away from Subliminal, I leaned back against the leather seat and messaged Rin and Keiko to meet me for the job. My grip tightened on the phone, my fury growing with every passing moment.
Of all the days for something to go wrong.
And it had gone very wrong. Ichiro would never call me to step in like this unless it was serious. Not because the old man valued my free time, but because he hated admitting he needed his bastard grandson to clean up a mess.
The good news was it further proved that I was the best choice to take over the Sato empire. My dragon was one of the fiercest, most lethal spirits since Ichiro’s, possibly even rivaling that vicious old beast. Naming anyone else would make my grandfather look like a fool, and a fool he was not.
I let the satisfaction of that thought curl around my anger until the emotion loosened its vise-like hold. I needed a clear mind for what I was about to do.
When the limousine stopped outside a warehouse not far from the National Arboretum, I opened the door and stepped out without waiting for Samson.
My driver met me beside the car’s door. “Shall I come back later, sir?”
“No, this won’t take long.” I strode to the trunk and popped it open. A treasure trove of weapons waited within—guns, knives, explosives, and more.
A familiar figure slipped out of the surrounding darkness, his dark eyes tinged with red. Rin’s dragon was ready and waiting. “Keiko’s getting into place.”
We had done enough jobs together over the years that we each knew our roles without being told. In silence, we strapped a few extra knives and guns to our bodies as a precaution, but our real weapons were imprinted on our skin forever.
Satisfied with our selections, I closed the trunk, and Rin followed me toward the building where the transaction and subsequent fuck-up had occurred. We strode into the warehouse as if we owned the place.
Technically, I did own it by way of my grandfather and the family business. This was my turf, and I would defend it head-on.
Our footsteps echoed throughout the vast building until we reached the center of an open space between shipping containers where Kenzo knelt. Six armed men surrounded him in a wide circle, while a man wearing a dark hoodie covering his face stood behind him, holding a Desert Eagle to Kenzo’s head.
At that distance, a bullet might prove lethal to a dragon, especially one as weak as Kenzo’s.
My cousin’s right eye was swollen and bruised, and a gag kept him from saying anything stupid. His trembling hands were zip-tied in front of him. The tie was similar to a standard, plastic zip tie, but this one was capable of suppressing his dragon’s spirit. Without a doubt, a bullet would be fatal.
Ichiro hadn’t given me any details other than this was a transaction gone awry, but I should have known my cousin would be involved in this big of a fuck up. When would the old man learn? Kenzo was never going to change, and why would he? Everything in his entitled life came free.
Approaching the group with a casual swagger, I surveyed the half dozen men surrounding us before smirking. “Did my invite get lost in the mail?”
“Nah, we don’t usually invite your type to our parties.” The man holding the gun shrugged and tilted his head up, revealing his face. “Maybe next time, though, eh, dragon?”
Black hair, dark eyes, and a distinctive goatee identified him as Francisco Jaurez, also known as Paco and the ruthless leader of the Nightstalkers Pack. Wolf shifters didn’t live in cities often, but it wasn’t completely unheard of, particularly in bigger cities where it was easier to hide among such a large, non-Gifted population.
Like the Sato empire, the Nightstalkers worked together as a family unit, though their reach in the city’s sordid underbelly wasn’t nearly as widespread as ours. They were up-and-comers, constantly pushing the boundaries to try to take over more of the Sato share.
Too bad for them, I was more than prepared to defend my territory, and tonight, my dragon had a thirst for blood.
“What are we doing here, boys?” I spread my arms, gesturing to the men surrounding us. “You trying to get yourselves killed?”
Paco laughed and pressed his gun harder against the back of Kenzo’s head. “Only one person is looking to get himself killed today. Your boy’s trying to pull a fast one on us.”
My lip curled in distaste. “Please, Paco, you know me better than that. Kenzo’s not my boy. Unfortunately for us both, I can’t let you kill him. Maybe next time.”
Over the gag, my cousin glared daggers at me. The idiot was too stupid to live much longer. Someone would take care of the issue, just not today.
“Not much you can do about it, homie.” Paco grinned, displaying glittery bling across his teeth. Kenzo would fit right in with these fools. “If you hadn’t noticed, you’re outnumbered. I knew you’d turn up eventually, seeing how tight Ichiro’s leash is, so I brought my friends to have some fun.”
Beside me, Rin cracked his neck. “You sure about that, homie?”
Paco’s smile faltered. He glanced at one of his men and tilted his head.
Keeping his gun raised, the man took a few steps toward a stack of containers and called something out in Spanish. They waited.
Nothing but glorious silence.
As the armed men exchanged wary glances, a shadow dripped down the side of the closest wall of shipping containers. The pool of darkness slithered along the ground, undetected by the wolves. Ironic that a group calling themselves Nightstalkers would be so oblivious to the danger in their midst.
The shadow slipped behind one of the wolves and pulled itself upright, coalescing into a tiny female form dressed in black from head to toe. The figure slid her dagger under the man’s chin, and his eyes flew open with surprise.
Her fangs were covered in crimson as she grinned. “Am I late?”
Before he could react, she drew the blade across his throat. Blood rained down his front as he fell to the ground, shock etched onto his face.
Paco aimed his gun at Keiko. “You.”
She pointed at herself. “Me?”
“You’re not real,” he stammered.
Her eyes opened wide behind her mask. “That’s news to me.”
To most of the Gifted community, Keiko was known simply as Death. She left few survivors to tell the tale of her slaughter, so her existence had become like a bogeyman, a nightmare to scare subordinates into submission and enemies into surrendering.
No one outside the Sato family knew her true identity, and those within the family could be counted on one hand. Anyone else who happened to find out quickly forgot again thanks to the help of a witch we had on staff. Or they simply met their maker.
Keiko wasn’t a dragon. She was something more rare than a siren and much more lethal than any of them, including me.
Paco paled, likely realizing he wouldn’t leave this room alive. None of his men would. Despite that realization, he decided to fight back.
Except she was gone before he even pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed into a shipping container and all hell broke loose.
As Paco’s men raised their guns or shifted into their wolf forms with resounding cracks as their bones reformed, I unleashed my dragon. The beast’s echoing roars gained in volume as it emerged from my skin like a fiery wraith.
My back smoldered red hot, but it was a feeling I’d long since learned to accept and embrace. The pain kept me focused.
As Death danced from guard to guard, dispatching each with precision and grace that always turned my blood cold, Rin scooped Kenzo up under his arm and dragged him out of the fray.
All this bloodshed for that waste of space.
I stepped in front of Paco. The Nightstalkers’ alpha pulled the trigger again and again, but each bullet bounced off my dragon-hardened skin, flattened by the impact. When the clip was empty, Paco met my gaze.
I expected to see fear in the man’s eyes, not angry determination.
Bones cracked and popped as Paco shifted into his other form, his eyes glowing with an otherworldly intensity and his clothes shredding around him. His wolf was massive, coming up to my waist, and his inky black coat bristled.
He knew he was going to die, but he would fight to the end. The least I could do was give him a worthy death.
Unbuttoning my shirt, I removed it and my shoes, not wanting either to restrict or hinder my movements. My slacks were loose enough to maneuver in.
The air carried a sense of impending doom as we circled each other, my muscles tensing with each step. Years of training for these exact circumstances had honed my reflexes, but fighting a man prepared to die was never easy.
Paco lunged forward with blinding speed.
Letting my instincts take over, I knocked the wolf to the side and countered with a series of sharp kicks and punches, each strike calculated for precision. My hits landed, but the wolf’s resilience was astonishing. He shrugged off blows that would have dropped any lesser opponent.
As we circled each other again, I noticed a pattern in the wolf’s attacks. The beast’s moves were becoming more predictable, and I seized an opportunity.
With a lightning-quick jab to the wolf’s solar plexus followed by a powerful roundhouse kick, I sent the alpha sprawling across the warehouse floor.
But Paco wasn’t finished yet. He growled and leaped to his feet before launching himself at me like a relentless predator.
As I ducked under the lunge, I swiped my claws upward.
The wolf crashed to the ground with a soul-shattering whine. Shifting back to his human form, Paco collapsed onto his knees. He held a hand to his stomach as if he could stop his intestines from spilling out.
“Tell Ichiro…we know what he’s doing.” Each word was a struggle. He coughed, and blood bubbled out of his mouth. “We won’t let him…turn us into…his slaves.”
I had no idea what he was referring to. “Explain.”
“The pyrocrystals…” Paco fell onto his side and released his entrails.
The hair on the back of my neck raised. “What about the crystals?”
“Ask…Kenzo…” The man exhaled for the last time.
Whatever I was about to learn, I knew I wasn’t going to like it.
After retrieving my shirt and shoes, I left the carnage behind and strode from the warehouse. Outside, I found Rin and Kenzo standing beside the limousine.
Kenzo rubbed his chafed wrists. “You?—”
I wrapped my hand around my cousin’s throat, cutting his words and air supply off. “Tell me about the crystals.”
Kenzo’s eyes bulged out of his head as he yanked at my arm. I loosened my grip just enough to let the kid speak. “What do you?—”
Tightening my grip again, I gave Kenzo a rough shake. “Don’t be even more stupid than you already are. How is Ichiro involved?”
This time, I dropped Kenzo completely.
The idiot nearly fell over, and he coughed and gasped as if he’d been tortured for hours. He glared at me. “Ichiro knows everything. It was his idea. Who else has the means to start something like this?”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Rin muttered.
So Ichiro had been aware of Kenzo’s little side project when we visited the pawnshop. Not only aware, but if my cousin was correct, the old man was the mastermind behind it all. He was knowingly creating addicts and doing it to control them.
I knew our grandfather was capable of atrocious acts of violence, but this?
This was the worst by far.
Had I killed the wrong man tonight?
Disgust roiled within my stomach, thick and full of acid. Pyrocrystals were far too dangerous for non-dragons to use. The confrontation at the pawnshop was proof of that.
A shadow solidified beside me, and Keiko opened her palm, revealing a cluster of red crystals. “The wolves were trying to steal a container filled with them.”
I took the pyrocrystals from her and crushed them in my fist, letting the crimson dust scatter in the night air. Fury seethed beneath my skin as I considered the unexpected turn of events that evening.
Ichiro had hidden this from me for months. Yet tonight, he demanded I step in, knowing I would discover my grandfather’s secret. He wanted me to know, which meant the old man was confident no one would be able to interfere, not even the Red Dragon.
Except, once again, Ichiro had underestimated the monster he had created.
“What do you want me to do with Kenzo?” Rin asked.
Samson met me at the limousine’s door and handed me a towel. I wiped the blood from my hands and said, “Let him find his own way home.”
“And the crystals?” Keiko asked, her features still masked.
Resting a hand on the door, I turned to stare at the building.
Over the years, I had sometimes questioned my place within the family, not quite sure I wanted to become head of the Sato empire after Ichiro. It wasn’t that I was against the immoral endeavors of our various enterprises—until now—but I wanted to be known for a higher purpose than that. I’d once thought fighting in the ring was my true purpose.
Now, I knew I had no choice. No one else would be willing or able to put a stop to this madness. Not when money and power were at stake, and certainly not when Ichiro Sato was involved.
I needed to make a statement. Something that would let Ichiro know I wouldn’t stand for this level of depravity.
I clenched my jaw until something cracked. “Burn it to the ground.”