Ex Meridian (Nothing Special 7)

Day squeezed the grip of his gun and pressed his back flat to the wall in case more knives preceded their black bogey. He didn’t know what he was expecting to see, but the cunning trap that had been set for Jason and Marcus was so tight, Day was half expecting to see a couple of Satan’s imps.

Certainly not what he did see.

A man who stood no more than five-six, five-seven, dressed head to toe in black, took the corner with the grace of a panther—and his body was as sleek as such. The hood of his midnight tunic was pulled so low over his face, Day could only see the slight curve of his peach lips. He continued a stealthy advance, though his hands were out at his sides, showing compliance. But Day wasn’t easily fooled. No one could just throw blades like that. This wasn’t some petty thug sent to rob Jason and his brother.

Steele and Tech rounded the corner with their weapons raised and trained on the bogey’s back. He had nowhere to go except through them or to face whoever was still down that intersecting hall. And they didn’t have to wait long to see who that was.

A black man dressed in jeans and a charcoal, thigh-length leather coat stepped into the opening, his dark eyes searching intently, ignoring everyone, until they landed on the man in black. Then he wasted no time positioning himself in front of him.

“Don’t move!” God ordered, and the four of them got into a tight diamond formation and closed the distance between them and their defenseless witness at the feet of some unknown killers.

“I’m just reaching for my identification,” the man said, making all of them slow their steps.

Day’s mouth fell open when the tall Adonis produced a glistening gold badge suspended from a gold-link chain tucked inside his expensive-looking sweater and let it rest between his pecs. All of them lowered their weapons at the same time, God throwing up his hands in disgust.

Steele shook his head, mumbling as he holstered his weapon. “Not again.”

“We’re bond recovery agents. I’m Ty Jenkins. This is my partner Kellam,” the taller one said, as if he was the field leader.

The silent blade-thrower slowly flipped back a layer of his tunic, showing his bounty hunter’s star clipped to a wide cotton belt. The bolder of the two spoke with such confidence and air of command it was as if he didn’t realize he was addressing six outranking officers. “We have arrest warrants for both of these men and they’re coming with us.”

“The hell they are,” Steele said coldly.

“Let me fuckin’ guess,” God gritted out through clenched teeth. “You two work for Duke.”

The black man frowned as if surprised but nodded.

“Oh, come on. Where the fuck does Duke and Quick find these guys, man? First he scored the King brothers, now he’s gone and hired Shaft and fuckin’...” Day waved his hand at the man still standing dutifully to the side of his partner, whose hood was far too low on his face to even make sense. “The fuckin Prince of Persia over here.”

Day stared disbelieving as the young man slid past Steele and Tech to retrieve his blades that he tucked somewhere around his damn wrist then returned to his partner’s side. It was insane the kind of men Duke employed at his busy bail bonding company. He and his business partner Quick were solid guys and they did good work in Atlanta. But it was never fun to run into Duke’s men in the field, and this was precisely why. It was instances like this that made Day want to shut the man’s company down.

“I’m glad you know who we are. We’ll collect our bounty and be on our way.” The hunter who called himself Ty reached into his partner’s tunic and pulled out a folded show-cause bench warrant for them to see.

Day moved past God to get a closer look at Duke’s new recruits. They were an interesting enough couple for sure. It was obvious by their close proximity and familiar body language they were more than just work partners. The taller one radiated a dominant vibe, and Day had to admit he was curious to know this serious young man’s story. But just because he walked the walk and talked the talk, didn’t make him the boss.

“I can see how you’d think it’s going to go your way, but it’s not. You’re not taking my witnesses.” Day squinted at the man’s face. “No matter how warm your skin looks to touch, or your perfect cheekbones and incomparable hairline.”

“Day, do you have a fuckin’ point?” God snapped.

Day didn’t startle at God’s tone. His eyes boring into the hunters’, he shook his head. “But bless your silly little heart. Your bounty is coming with us.”