Toxic Game (GhostWalkers 15)

If Bakti and Agus Orucov were friends, it meant that Bakti might take all the money offered but then, when he was certain he had every bit of information Shylah could provide, he might kill her to keep her from hunting his friend. She was well aware that was a likely outcome, but she went with him as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

Draden hung back, staying in the shadows, waiting, trusting Shylah to handle the man she followed if he suddenly turned on her. He was patient. If there was a plan for Bakti and his friends to murder Shylah, it wouldn’t be the first time such a thing had been carried out in the backstreets and alleyways of any city. They would have done it before and it would be a coordinated plan.

It took four minutes before the first suspect opened the now darkened door of Bakti’s house. The man didn’t turn on the lights. He came out, walking with a slight limp and carrying a cane as if he might need to use it later. As he passed the neighboring doorway, a second man and then a third emerged. They began to follow Shylah and Bakti. Draden dropped in behind them.

Three men. One walks with a limp. He’s carrying a cane I presume will be used as his weapon. They’ve done this before.

We’re in that part of town. Shylah was matter-of-fact. She was a tracker and that meant when she hunted, she wasn’t where the nice people of society hung out. She was with the dregs, those making their livings by robbing and killing. Not too far from here is the local paper man. He can make you any document you want that will pass any inspection, but you have to have the money for him. He’s pricey, but worth it.

How do you know that? And fucking pay attention to that asshole who is going to try to kill you.

He’s not nearly as cute as you are.

Shylah, damn it. Don’t get cocky on me.

Or as adorable. I bet he isn’t good in the bedroom either.

For God’s sake, woman, don’t think about him in the sack. You only get to think about me there—and not precisely at this minute. I want your entire focus on Bakti and how he’s going to kill you, most likely inside that apartment.

Honey, you’re not thinking too clearly. He doesn’t want to kill me right away. He’s got three friends coming to join the party. Not one. Not two. Three. What does that tell you? There’s going to be a party and I’m the entertainment. He’s going to whip out his knife or gun or whatever and threaten me. Usually not a gun because they don’t want noise. I’m supposed to fall apart and be scared, that’s part of the entertainment. He’ll make me beg for my life. Then he’ll tell me what I have to do to stay alive. It will be a very long night for me and then he will happily kill me.

The breath left his lungs. Bile rose without warning. She knew the signs for a reason. She’d been in that exact scenario before.

Honey, I’m here, they aren’t. This is what I do.

I suddenly don’t like what you do. He didn’t. He wasn’t a man to tell his woman what she could or couldn’t do. He was proud of her. Proud of her capabilities. But this … being alone with four men who clearly wanted to rape and kill her, that was beyond his ability to condone.

Most women have to face this kind of threat at least once in their lifetime. Maybe not with so many, but certainly at least one man. Even without you here, I would kill them all. You know me now, Draden. If these were good men, trying to protect their friend, unknowing of what he had done, I wouldn’t harm them. This isn’t the case. These men aren’t good and they’re willing to rape a woman just because they can and then kill her so they don’t get caught. Not good. They’ve tangled with the wrong woman.

He couldn’t help the swell of pride. He was that twisted. She was one in a million and she was his. So, what’s the plan? Because she wasn’t handling this alone. This was personal to him. It might not be to her, and he suspected it wasn’t, she was too matter-of-fact. To Shylah, men like Bakti were hazards of her work. To Draden they were the worst of all human beings and gave all men a bad name. And this time, it was his woman they targeted.

We’ll go inside. I’ll ask questions, haggle over money. He’ll stall to let his friends get here. He’ll step up to open the door for them and I’ll be right behind him. The moment they’re inside, I’ll slit his throat. Then … game on.

You’re not leaving me much time to get there to help out.

I know you. You’re bloodthirsty and right now, feeling very um … brutal. That’s the only word I can think of. You’re not going to play nice.

Play nice? He nearly choked, and he envisioned his hands around her neck. Shaking her. How does one play nice with men like this?

You kill them fast. They’re vermin. You’d probably take your time and not be nice at all.

We have entirely different ideas on “nice” play.

There was a silence. Draden Freeman. Are you getting turned on because we’re talking about doing these disgusting men in?

No, baby, I’m getting turned on because my woman is the biggest badass in the fucking city. Maybe the world. That is the turn-on. The way you talk. The way you use that knife. I love the blowgun.

Only because it has the word “blow” in it.

There might have been a little bit of truth in that. In spite of the situation, he found himself grinning like an idiot. Still, he picked up the pace, until he was nearly on the heels of his prey. He could see that Shylah had stopped just outside a brightly colored door while Bakti unlocked it and stepped back so she could enter. She went down to one knee on the pretense of loosening her boot, and while she did Bakti took the opportunity to sneak a quick glance down the narrow street in an attempt to catch a glimpse of his friends.

Shylah glanced up and caught the satisfaction on Bakti’s face. He was certain everything was going as planned. She stood up and meekly entered the room in front of him. He let the door partially close, but left it unlocked with light streaming from the street through the large crack. He turned on the lights.

Only two bulbs worked and the light was more brown than white or yellow. She risked glancing at that bulb, but it had to be ancient. Why it wasn’t burned out ten years earlier, she didn’t know. She looked around the apartment. Clearly, it hadn’t been cleaned yet.

“Who owns this place?”

Bakti turned away from the door. “I do. I rent to various people by the week. They took it for a week. You can see they’ve made a mess. There are all kinds of things here I don’t understand.”

“Sadly, these men are making viruses. This entire apartment could be contaminated. Don’t touch anything.” She wanted to share that particular wickedness with Draden. It certainly wiped the smile from Bakti’s face.

“Viruses?”

She nodded. “The small village of Lupa Suku was wiped out by this virus. The three men created it.” She indicated the room. “See the equipment here? This is what is used to make this virus. There’s no vaccine. No cure. You must have heard of the Ebola virus. You’re an educated man. You know that these hemorrhagic viruses are lethal.”

He looked around the room, all the while shaking his head, not wanting to believe her. The door swung open and his three friends walked in. Bakti swung around toward them. The moment he saw them, the doubt was gone from his face, their presence bolstering his courage. She saw his hand move under his tunic to pull his weapon.

She killed him without hesitation. Before the body could topple to the floor, she’d thrown a small blade, no more than an inch long, but it lodged with deadly accuracy into the lead man’s neck, severing the artery. He went down hard, blood spraying across the room.

The two men behind him tried to fall back, but Draden was already there. He came up behind the last man, slamming his blade into the base of the skull. That left the one with the limp. He was caught between the two of them.

Draden shoved the dead body and the remaining prisoner into the house and slammed the door. Instantly the prisoner dropped to his knees and began begging loudly for his life, offering all kinds of money and favors.

He’s armed, Shylah cautioned.

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Draden shrugged. Let him have his chance. Stay in the background. Let me do my thing.

Shylah sent him a ghost of a smile, all the while studiously avoiding looking at the dead men. Draden reached down and casually closed their eyes. He stared at the prisoner for a long time in silence. The longer he stared, the more anxious the man became.

“What’s your name?”

“Eko, my name is Eko.”

“I’m a little pissed right now, Eko. I was right behind you while you were following my wife. I heard all the very unpleasant things you intended to do to her right before you cut her throat. I have to tell you, I’m not happy with you. You have a wife. Maybe I should go find her and do those things to her and your daughters as well. Maybe I should make you watch.” He snarled it, deliberately as sinister as the man in front of him.

Eko cried out and rocked back and forth. “No, no, I was only talking big for my friends.”