Cold rage slithered within Daisy as she moved through the darkness. Zorn drifted just behind, down the deserted alleyway. The cobblestones shone in the low light, wet with moisture from the heavy fog. Golden-yellow street lamps glowed with diffused halos. Somewhere a cat screeched before a garbage can rattled and a glass bottle rolled across cement.
With Zorn's help, it hadn't taken long to formulate a plan. Half a day only. All the information they needed on her target, Mordecai's snake of an ex-girlfriend, was right at their fingertips. Daisy even had a picture so she could identify the woman easily. Tonight, slightly more than twenty-four hours later, she would take out the trash.
Near the end of the alleyway, Daisy paused and glanced around. Not a soul in sight.
Respectable people didn't come to this corner of the dual-society zone. There was nothing but crime and criminals hiding from the law.
Her target was three floors up in the corner apartment. A known criminal's apartment.
Turned out, Mordecai's ex-woman dabbled in stolen antiques and collectibles. Her fuck-buddy on the side did, at any rate. Given it was the dual-society zone, this area wasn't subject to Demigod Kieran and Lexi's jurisdiction. They weren't responsible for policing this area, and neither was the non-magical government. These people slipped through the cracks in this world and hoped no one bigger and stronger took notice.
Well. Now someone had. The woman deserved Zorn and Daisy coming after her, and the criminals she hung out with deserved to go dark. Permanently. Given the area, no one would give two shits about it. Kill or be killed. The nature of the game.
Daisy jumped up and grabbed the top of the fence. In a second she'd pulled herself over and landed almost silently on the other side. Zorn was at her side in a moment, making scaling a fence look graceful and easy. Garbage littered the walkway behind the building. She watched where she stepped and ducked under a lit window.
The fire escape barely hung down past the bottom of the second floor. She paused under it and waited. Zorn grabbed her thighs. She squatted and then jumped. He lifted, hoisting her up so she could grab the bottom rung. He guided her back down to a soft landing and access to the higher levels. Easy-peasy.
On the second-floor landing, it was a cinch to then get up to the correct floor and step out onto the wide ledge. With light, confident steps, she made it around the corner of the building. Light spilled onto the ledge from a window up ahead. Just beyond, voices drifted out through an open window.
She slowed and glanced back at Zorn. His piercing eyes shifted down to her. Very little expression showed on his face. She knew very little emotion bubbled under the surface, either. At just over six feet and with a medium build, it was easy to underestimate the absolute beast he became in a fight. He'd imparted that knowledge to her early, starting when she was just fourteen. He'd taken her under his wing when usually he didn't have time for anyone.
She tensed a little, and he nodded. After five years of training together, fighting together, doing jobs together, and getting into a hairy situation or two, they didn't need words to communicate. He wasn't much of a talker, anyway.
He fell back a bit. For the first time, she was taking point on a job. It was her right as Mordecai's sister and backup. Adrenaline and pride surged through her, along with an antsy feeling, like standing at a starting line, waiting for the pop of the gun.
She took a deep, steadying breath as she pulled a switchblade out of her pocket. The blade snicked as it sprang up. She stopped at the first window and tried it. Unlocked, as expected for a residence this high up and housing the people it did. Derelicts crashed here. They met their employer's buyers, they partied, and they lounged around. That was the sum total of their existence. Or so it seemed on paper. Mordecai never should've gotten involved with people like this. He had a huge heart and he always wanted to help—people like this took advantage of guys like him. Had taken advantage.
Would die for taking advantage.
Daisy didn't sense any souls in this room, so she lifted the window slowly.
Lexi's blood magic gift had given her the usual perks—enhanced strength, speed, healing, and the ability to understand any language anywhere. But each Demigod also passed down something relative to their specific type of magic. In the case of Lexi, a Demigod of Hades, she'd passed on the ability to feel and identify souls, the thing Hades snatched as a person died and shed their skin. Or some such thing—she'd never been very interested in how it worked. Ghosts freaked her out.
Thankfully, she could only sense the souls of the living. Unlike Lexi, she wasn't plagued with feeling or seeing the dead.
She climbed over the pane. A waft of funk assaulted her. She screwed up her nose in disgust. It was like someone had put dirty socks and a wet dog in a bowl and heated it up. Laundry lay strewn across all available surfaces. Soda cans and wrappers littered the ground. She had to watch her step to avoid stepping on anything and alerting the residents of her arrival.
Murmured voices drifted down the hall. She paused at the door to listen. The window stayed open behind her. Zorn stood at it, waiting to make sure the breaking-and-entering portion of their plan went off correctly.
A man was speaking. Another burst out laughing. Finally came the sultry voice of a female. Bingo.
Down the other way, a light glowed from under one of the doors. The bathroom, if she wasn't mistaken.
A light splash caught her attention. Then the movement of water.
Yes, the bathroom, and someone was relaxing and taking a bath. Hopefully they wouldn't get the urge to get out just yet. She'd deal with that person later.
She glanced back at Zorn again. He drifted from the window like a phantom, still on the ledge. He'd peer in through the living room window, ready to help if she needed it.
She hoped to fuck she wouldn't need it. She'd looked up their magic and knew how to quickly combat it—none of them were anything special. But she never knew. Not in the magical world. One wrong move, a bad decision, a mis-thrown knife—and she'd be vulnerable. She could never afford to take any chances.
She slinked through the hallway, her switchblade in her hand. They were such a romantic sort of knife, switchblades. Close and personable and cool as all hell. Definite style points when used for grisly (though righteous) murders.
More laughter.
"When is he supposed to pick it up?" one of the guys asked.
"An hour, give or take," the other answered, sounding bored. "He doesn't tend to be punctual."
"I'll wait all night," the woman purred. Daisy gritted her teeth against the rush of anger. "He is…" She made an appreciative sound.
"Is that why you showed up?" the first guy asked.
The other guffawed. "What's that, Max? You thought she came for you?"
Daisy's fingers tightened. She edged closer to the corner at the end of the hallway. The room opened up beyond. She could just make out a pair of run-down sneakers. The owner was stretched out on the couch right around this corner. The others were on the other side of the room.
"You were fun, don't get me wrong," a woman, probably Ava, told Max, "but I'm kind of over it."
The other guy guffawed again.
Daisy burst into action. She recognized the two guys from the pictures easily, one near the window and the second belonging to those run-down sneakers. Green light for night-night.
She slapped the light switch and doused the room in darkness. The woman screamed. One of the guys said, "Ohhh whoa ahh." Very strange reaction.
Moonlight fell over him, but she'd already memorized his location and lined up her body. She pulled a throwing knife from the holster on her thigh and flung it. It lodged in his throat. Perfect shot. No one in this room had a Demigod's blood magic—except her—or fast healing like a shifter. That dude would bleed out sooner rather than later.
But the blood loss wouldn't kill him.
Acid spit gurgled out of his mouth and over his chin. It rolled into the wound and seeped in.
He had terrible genetics. Usually acid spit didn't affect the spitter. Not with this guy. Getting it on his skin was fine, but if it went into his bloodstream, it would kill him. He couldn't tolerate his own magic, something very unusual for magical people.
The guy on the couch started, his eyes wide. Daisy was on him in a moment, peppering him with knife strikes and quickly ending his flailing.
Low-hanging fruit, these characters. This was beneath her and Zorn in every way. It was good practice for her, though. A nice, easy steppingstone for her first semi-solo job.
She slowed, walking toward the woman. Ava. Very pretty, this lady. A knockout by anyone's standards. Mordecai had surely stopped thinking the moment she smiled at him.
She wasn't smiling now.noveldrama
"I know who you are," she said, her voice quivering. "What do you want?"
Zorn pushed the window open and climbed in gracefully, nearly invisible despite the moonlight.
Ava let out a surprised sound, hurrying away from him and into the corner.
"Who's the guy in the tub?" Daisy asked her.
Zorn started moving toward the hallway immediately. He'd make sure the guy in the tub stayed put until they were ready to deal with him or her. They weren't implicated in all this. Yet.
Ava's body started to shake and then her voice changed octaves. A wave of sadness washed over Daisy. Ava was a magical mood changer.
Yawn.
"This is the last time I'm going to ask nicely." Daisy took a step toward the woman.
"He wants to meet the buyer," Ava said quickly, flinching toward the wall. "He works for Randall. He's higher up on the chain of command and wants to make sure the buyer feels comfortable."
The emotion changed to rage.
Daisy laughed. "Really? You want me to show you rage?"
Ava's face paled. The magical emotion she was pushing switched to depression. Her fear was messing with her control.
"The buyer of what?" Daisy asked, ignoring the changing emotions.
"A-antique. An antique. Don't come any closer! I'll tell you everything."
"Yes, I know." Daisy stepped forward and yanked Ava around until her face was pushed into the crack of the corner. She ripped the woman's hands behind her back before sliding the point of her bloody knife against the hollow behind Ava's ear. She pressed hard enough to break the skin.
"A goblet," Ava said frantically. "He called it a chalice. I don't know which one it is. Honest. I'm not on the payroll."
Daisy leaned into the woman, pressing the blade a little deeper. A thin rivulet of blood traced down the woman's neck. Her terror rose, her breathing becoming choppier and more panicked.
"You know who I am," Daisy said in a low voice, "and you certainly know who Zorn is. You must also know who my brother is."
"That wasn't my fault!" Ava trembled. "I told him I didn't want to be tied down. I told him! He said he'd be exclusive, but I didn't."
"Did you also tell him that you were with him so you could pass information to your boys? To make it easier for them to rob him?"
She froze.
"Yeah. The cheating thing is bullshit, obviously," Daisy went on, "but you were upfront about that. Fine. Having someone filming you doing it while talking shit about my brother? Not good. That sort of thing gets under my skin. But setting him up to be jumped and robbed?"
The anger nearly dragged Daisy under.
"He's the type of guy who suffers in silence," she said with a constricted throat.
The picture Jerry had taken seven days ago flashed through her mind. Mordecai hadn't been with a woman at all. His whole body had been battered and bloody, his nose broken along with a few of his bones. He'd hidden that from Daisy and stayed at Jerry's while he healed so she wouldn't know.
The guys thought it was because Mordecai didn't want Daisy to claim vengeance on his behalf. That was probably partly true. But she knew Mordecai better than anyone. She knew what made him tick and why he did the things he did. He'd hidden because he was ashamed. He'd allowed himself to be caught off guard, and despite the rock-solid training they both had, they'd taken him down. It didn't matter that it was eight against one. He knew Daisy always tried to build him up, and he'd hate causing her pain by seeing him torn down. If he hadn't had the blood magic and the naturally fast healing of a shifter, he would've died. That was what had frozen Daisy's insides. He'd been done dirty and he'd suffered for it. That was inexcusable.
"You have him jumped, you take his shit…" Daisy clenched her jaw as the rage swelled and twisted. "Then you make a sex tape while mocking him for it. He got that yesterday morning, right?"
It had crushed him. He had liked this chick for some fucking reason. He'd been over the moon about her. And she'd gone and shit all over him.
"Who talks shit about another lover while actively banging someone? No one. You were trying to hurt him emotionally after these assholes hurt him physically. What sort of hell spawned you?"
"He's nothing but an exiled shifter," Ava said through her teeth. "And you're nothing but a dirty Chester!" Magical self-loathing swamped Daisy. "It was embarrassing when he sang a Chester's praises in front of everyone. An angel? Yeah fucking right. He should've known better. He got what was coming to him."
He certainly should've known better. Mordie was too lovely to see Daisy for what she really was—the devil with razor-tipped heels. Death walking. That was his error, but this bitch was not the right person to call him on it. Daisy alone had that privilege.
The fake magical emotion couldn't beat out Daisy's very real fury.
Her voice was low and intimate. "First of all…" She shallowly jabbed the woman in the thigh with her knife, then in the side. Ava cried out and fell harder into the wall, back to being docile. "He was exiled as a child, right after his parents, the alphas, were murdered. Now he is working with Demigods. He could have a pack if he wanted, but he's choosing to stick with a very powerful family. He leveled up, you ignorant twat. Second, just so we're clear about the type of guy you fucked around with, he wanted to walk you home to make sure you got there safe. He didn't like this lifestyle for you. Is your air freshener actually a flaming dog turd? Because that's what it smells like. He's kind and lovely and gentle, but even if you hate that, he's very good-looking and has a stellar body. Like…what sort of stupid are you? That guy Max is dumpy as shit. Do you actively try to make bad decisions?"
Daisy gave her a few more shallow cuts, numb to the violence but wanting this message to be crystal clear. Fuck with one of her people, and you fucked with her directly. She didn't have compassion and she didn't play games. Zorn had taught her well. This chick wouldn't die, but she'd be laid up for a while. She'd have plenty of time to think about what she'd done. Plenty of time for the fear to take on a life of its own.
"You're going to send him an apology. Is that clear?" Daisy shook the woman. "You will send him an apology for being human garbage. After that, you will never speak to him again. You will never go around my family again. If you do, for any reason, I will finish this job I started. Get me?" She pressed the blade against the crying woman's throat.
"Yes," Ava whispered.
"What?" Daisy prompted.
"Yes!"
Daisy used the woman's slinky dress to clean off her blade before stepping back.
"Out of curiosity"—she put the knife away—"do you still have the watch or car you took from him?"
Ava sank to the ground in a tapestry of blood and defeat. "I don't have it. Randall took it and gave us cash. He's got it. I don't have it!"
Randall, hmm? Daisy might just look him up. He was the big fish of the operation. Actually, Zorn might want to handle him. She still had to go after the other six turds who had helped these dead guys take down Mordie.
The rage simmered.
Daisy turned her back on Ava, a signal that the woman was no threat. Doing that as a Chester was the gravest of insults to a magical person.
Zorn waited in the darkened hallway, no moonlight reaching this far.
"You left her alive?" he whispered.
"She needs to send an apology to Mordecai. You heard Jerry. He said Mordie feels betrayed. I don't want him to lose faith in women or people in general. Besides, he'd flip out if I killed her. He'd take responsibility and feel guilty and it would be a whole thing. I don't have the patience."
"Careful. Your big heart is showing," Zorn murmured.
She rolled her eyes at him.
He jerked his head at the closed bathroom door. The light was still on. No splashing came from inside.
"The shades are pulled on the window," he said. "I couldn't have a look. He must've heard the screaming. He didn't get up to investigate."
She hooked a finger over her shoulder. "They were utterly useless. Killed by your own acid? Give me a break. Mr. Bathtub is probably scared."
"Probably."
"He's part of the organization, so he's fair game, but we don't know what kind of magic he has."
"Correct."
Daisy bit her lip. Zorn stared down at her, no expression. He'd take point if she wanted. He was silently asking if she was up for this.
Nervousness roiled in her belly, but she didn't back down. This was her life. Sometimes, part of that life was walking into danger blind. With Zorn as backup, she should be able to handle it.
Should being the operative word.
"I'm on it," she said, not allowing the nervousness to quiver her voice. She headed that way.