Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I reach up and touch where he bit me. There are teeth marks.
A sane woman would be creeped out.
But I feel an impulsive, excited shiver down my spine, and I only lean into him harder.
“Bites fade,” I tease.
“Then I’ll have to make it fresh every day.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“I bet you would.”
Chapter 19
Alexan
Rain pours down the alleys of Broadway East. Anyone who normally would sit on their stoops and watch the dealers pass dime bags is hiding inside. I’m in all black, raincoat to boots, and stomp through the puddles toward a lone bar with a bright yellow neon sign: HERE IT IS.
I don’t come here often. This isn’t Brotherhood territory. Local gangs control most of East Baltimore, especially Broadway, but Daron likes this crumbling dive. He thinks the name is funny.
But tonight, he’s not in a good mood. The locals are hunched over their tables drinking shitty beer and ignoring everyone around them. Half the old heads have cigarettes burning. Daron’s sitting in a booth with torn pleather seats and peeling laminate on the table. Above him, old advertisements from Europe with topless women are pasted to nicotine-stained wallpaper.
“What the fuck did you get me into?” he asks the second I sit across from him.
I glance around us. There’s nobody close enough to overhear, and even if there were, there’s a reason we come to HERE IT IS.
Nobody talks in this fucking place.
Secrets come in, and they never go back out.
Aside from Brotherhood venues, it’s about as safe as it gets.
“I take it you finished your job.” I lean back and study him.
Daron throws a manila envelope down in front of me. It’s fatter than I would’ve expected. “Yeah, I fucking finished.” He looks around again, fidgeting in his seat, before leaning closer. “The fucking Black Mantis, Alexan? Are you kidding me?”
I flip open the folder. The first page is a basic dossier on Jeremy Fong, or at least as much personal information as Daron could find. There’s an estimate on height and weight, a guess on age, some background history, but not much else.
The rest of the folder is all about his company and his office.
“This is good work,” I admit, honestly impressed. I knew Daron was good, but I didn’t expect this much so fast.
“I know that.” He looks frustrated as he picks up a glass of cheap whiskey and sips it. He makes a disgusted face like he’d rather suck down toilet water. “Now I get why you gave this job to me instead of the other two, but come on, Alexan. Don’t tell me you’re planning on doing something to—” He gestures at the folder.
Fucker’s too paranoid to even say their name.
I consider how much to tell him. If I were in his position, I’d also be pissed. He didn’t know Fong was part of Mantis when I first made the assignment. Otherwise, he probably wouldn’t have accepted it. But by the time he figured it out, it must’ve been too late to turn back. I’d bet he had more than half of this folder finished when he realized good old Jeremy is actually Iron Head, the notorious hacker.
“Not directly,” I finally say. “I should’ve warned you, but we both know you’re not stupid.”
“No shit. Which is why I’m not going to accept some half-assed explanation. What’s this about?”
I blow out a long breath and lean back in the booth. “They hired me for a job. There’s an object they want found, but I’ve come to realize that I can’t find it for them.”
“You can’t?” he asks, frowning slightly. “That doesn’t sound right.”
“Maybe more like won’t. The repercussions if I do—” I stop myself, trying to dance around the subject. “People I care about will get hurt.”
“I’m guessing that’s why you’re being so vague.”
“I’m protecting someone.”
He grunts and takes another sip. “God, this is fucking terrible.” He rubs his face with one hand. “Just tell me something. Are you going to get yourself killed?”
“That’s a distinct possibility.”
“And here I was, almost excited for this fucking crew we’re putting together.”
“Yeah, well, welcome to my hell.”
Daron glances toward the door. I can see him making calculations. Only I hope he’s not considering telling Tigran or Arsen about my side hustle.
“What else do you need?” he finally asks.
That’s not what I expected. For a second, I’m too surprised to answer. Daron’s not the kind of guy to stick his neck out for someone, not even for an old friend. I figured I could trust him to do some research, but that would be it.
“This isn’t your problem. You don’t need to get involved.”
“You said you’re protecting someone. Well, the fucker Alexan I know would never do that unless they were important to him.” He stares at me, face showing nothing. “And I did hear you got married recently.”