Sonata (Butcher and Violinist 2)

No one talked.

No one needed too.

Louis, Rafael, and I had fought alongside each other since we were kids in the school yard, beating up other kids just because they had dads. Just because they were happier than us. It had been wrong, but therapeutic. It had been unhealthy, but we learned how to fight, and do it impeccably together. Fast. Skilled. No mistakes.

We moved down the hall.

I spotted blood on the wall and more drops on the polished floor. Deep within my core, I could feel that Eden was gone, but I wouldn’t let myself come to grips with it.

All my top security lay dead in a pile on the hallway floor at the entrance of my living room. Whoever had killed the men had time to stack them up. The small trail of blood went beyond the living room, heading to my bedroom.

Eden, please be okay.

I wanted to yell her name, but whoever did this could still be in the penthouse. I didn’t want to alert them.

No. I want to do other things to them.

A dead man lay in the hallway. A black mask covered his face. Louis kneeled down, yanked the mask off, and pulled his shirt down. A dark black and green tattoo covered all of his chest, shoulders and back. Louis went to his sleeve and lifted it up. The ink painted that too.

We all exchanged glances.

Yakuza. The Dragon hadn’t called to make sure Kazimir wasn’t on to him. He’d called to set me up and keep me downstairs. But for what?

If he took Eden, I would sink Japan into the sea.

A creak sounded from Eden’s room.

Murder blazed in my eyes. Making no sound, Louis jumped in front of me. I tried to move him out the way. He shook his head and went on. Silent. Ready to kill.

When we made it to the door, Louis kicked it open. Darkness showed back.

And then bloody hands appeared from behind the door.

Someone grabbed Louis.

Rafael and I were on the person in seconds.

The man screamed. “Eh!”

I knew that sound of pain and froze. “Giorgio?”

One of our other men turned on the lights. Giorgio let out a long breath, sinking into Rafael’s hold. Rafael had already had his arm around Giorgio’s neck, close to chocking him. Rafael let go. Louis grabbed Giorgio before he hit the ground.

“Goddamn it!” I checked out his chest.

Giorgio had been shot in his side, back, and thigh. There was a fifty percent chance that the bullet hadn’t hit any major organs. But I was more worried about all the blood he had lost.

His bloody hands shook. “They. . .took. . .her.”

I held him to me. “Relax. I know. Save your energy.”

But I didn’t understand. And I had no idea what was going on. My body shook, and I didn’t know if it was due to Giorgio’s body trembling and spasming against mine, or the empty darkness that took over my heart.

No. Giorgio isn’t going to die, and Eden is here. She’s right here.

Louis was on the phone with our doctor. Another man was on Giorgio’s side stopping the blood. Another saw to his thigh. I wanted to lay him down and search for Eden, but Giorgio was in a horrible place.

Come on, cousin. Don’t do this. Don’t die today.

Rafael and the others ran out to the balcony.

Giorgio’s bottom lip quivered as he whispered to me, “Devil.”

“What?”

“The Devil. He had no face under the mask.”

My head spiraled. I’d lost my clear mind, when I walked in. I’d barely caught my breath. Nothing Giorgio was saying was making any sense, but it was good that he kept talking.

“What else?” I held him closer. A tear fell from my eyes.

Sweat trickled down the side of his bloody face. I didn’t know if he’d shot someone else or had been injured there too.

Giorgio frowned. “Wear all white. Everyone.”

“What?”

“If I die—”

“Shut the fuck up.” I wiped a tear from my eye. “I haven’t given you permission to die yet.”

Medics bursts into the bedroom and took over from there.

“I love you, Giorgio.” I rose, coated in my cousin’s blood. Pain swallowed me as the medics took over.

He’ll be fine. Everything will be okay.

Rafael and Louis had shifted to searching through the entire penthouse. There was no sign of Eden. Just dead security and other corpses. The kidnappers wore black masks and black clothes. Things a soldier would wear in a battle, but these weren’t army men.

An hour later, Louis dragged all the dead men into the living room. There’d been four that we found. A few of my men yanked off their clothes.

I walked around their bodies and pointed at each one. “Yakuza. Bratva. Bratva. Yakuza.”

“Japanese and Russians working together? That doesn’t make sense.” Rafael kicked the dead Russian in his face. “It looks like Kazimir has decided to stop bullying the world. He’s now trying to make friends.”