Kings of Blood and Money (Underworld Kings)

So much for heeding his brother’s instructions.

“Someone in trouble?” he drones, rubbing a hand down his front. He removed the jacket he was wearing and stands there in a navy-blue shirt, a few buttons missing and a small drop of blood staining the fabric, curtesy of me. His long hair and beard belong on a Viking.

“That’s something you know a lot about, right? I heard you’re having some issues with the law?” I cross the room to stand next to Freya. As if just noticing her in the room, his leering gaze lands on her.

“Well…shit. Hello,” he drawls.

Her eyes dart to me, gaging whether she should reply. I give her a non-committal shoulder shrug. It’s up to her if she wants to acknowledge him. “Hey,” she says meekly.

“Hmmm. So, is she the reason you don’t want to play with the entertainment? I can understand why.” He dips his head in an effort to look up the summer dress she’s wearing. I will gut this motherfucker.

Locking her ankles, Freya tugs on the hem of her dress, trying to make it longer.

“Keep looking at her, Maddox, and I’ll remove your eyes.”

“Ohhh, you’re an angry bastard, aren’t ya? I thought you were into sharing.” His smug smile grates on my raw nerve. It wasn’t a secret that Remi and I shared women. But that was us. We didn’t share with others, and we’d never be okay with sharing Freya.

“So, what did Remi do?” He rubs his hands through his beard.

“What did you do? Last I heard, you were being held on pending charges.”

“Heat is inevitable in our world, Noah.” He points a finger in my direction. “Your time will come too. But they have to have something on you that will stick. I’m a slippery motherfucker.” He chuckles.

“I want to go to my room.” Freya shivers, rubbing her hands up her arms.

“That an invitation?” Maddox licks his lips.

“Last nerve,” I warn him, my head hazing. I’ve already noted five objects I could use to kill this motherfucker without even breaking a sweat. It will mean war with the Mercer family, but deep-down, Antonio will probably be relieved someone had the balls do what he couldn’t.

“So, what’s in it for you with this little shindig? What’s my brother offered you?” he asks, out of character and inappropriate. We don’t discuss that shit outside of a Ruin meet.

“Nothing. This is just a friendly gathering of friends, right?”

Sweat beads his forehead. His hands flex manically. What the hell is up with this prick?

“Noah,” Freya breathes, dropping to her feet and flattening her body against my side. Her hand slips into mine, entwining our fingers.

“You’ll excuse us,” I say. He moves toward us. Slow, like a movie buffering, his hand reaches out for Freya’s ass.

“Oh…come…on…Noah…share…the…pussy.”

My fist whips out, catching him in the throat with lethal precision. Fire in my veins, venom in my movements, I slip from Freya’s grip. Maddox’s eyes are wide, tears forming as he gasps and gets nothing. His hands claw at his throat as he backs away. I’ve crushed his windpipe. There’s no coming back from this. I have to finish it. Rushing, I grapple him, throwing my weight into him. Wrapping my limbs like a snake around his neck, I lock my arms into a headlock, squeezing until a crunching signals his neck breaking.

Releasing his limp body, I let out a ragged breath and stare up at the girl I’ve just shown my true nature to. Her eyes dart to the kitchen door. Sounds nearing has me leaping to my feet.

“Freya, punch in this code to the locked door.”

I clutch Maddox’s body under the armpits. Fucker is heavy.

“Freya!” I bark. “Fucking door. Now.”

Snapping out of her horror, she runs to the door, her hands shaking, “Four, one, eight, two, zero, one, zero,” I instruct.

The alarm turns green, the lock clinking. She pulls the door open for me, and I drag Maddox’s body inside. She follows me in, closing the door behind her, her gaze darting down the corridor. “This one, same code,” I tell her, gesturing to the medical room. She punches the code in and opens the door for me. Dropping his body, I flex my back and check my clothes for fluids.

Nothing.

“Freya.” I reach for her, but she flinches, so I drop my hands. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“You had to,” she murmurs, looking down at him. “The other men.” She bops her head. “If they found him.”

“Exactly.” She’s not stupid. Understanding and accepting are two different things, however.

“This is who you are?” she asks, her body quivering.

“When I have to be,” I state, hating the distance between us, the cold front forming and expanding.

“I’m going to take you to your room, okay? I don’t want you to think about this. I’ll sort it out.”

“Okay.” She sounds mechanical, like her lights switched out.