“Ah, it’s you.” Javier’s mask slipped for a moment, and the true, demonic face of him showed through as he glared at Nova. “If I were you, I’d stay silent so I don’t turn my attention on you. Now.” He turned back to me with his smooth grin. “Pick one person.”
“Wrath,” I called immediately, ignorin’ the murmur of shock that pulsed through the brothers at the fact I hadn’t chosen one of them.
He was behind me somewhere, and I knew the moment he stepped forward because Javier’s eyes narrowed as they travelled the length and size of the man.
“A big boy,” he said with a laugh. “Though I doubt Danner will be intimidated.”
“Not about that.” And it wasn’t.
It was about the fact that Wrath was the only man there to know what it felt like to lose the love of your life, and therefore the only one who could begin to understand my plan.
“Whatever the reason, shall we go? Who knows, maybe you’ll even be back in time to cut the cake!” He laughed warmly as if we were best friends and this was his party, then turned abruptly and stalked toward the GMC SUVs parked in a line at the mouth of the driveway.
Wrath moved into place behind me and followed him.
The Fallen touched me as I went if they could, called out to me when they couldn’t just my name, until a soft echo of it lingered in the air.
King, King, King.
“Where to, Mr. Garro?” Javier called over his shoulder.
“The bluffs off Back Bay road, turn right onto Wildwood.”
“Oh,” he said with a cherry laugh. “How atmospheric.”
We got into the back of one’a those SUVs, the door held open by Javier himself who grinned and then slammed the door in our faces as soon as we were seated.
I acted quickly, whipping out the phone they hadn’t bothered to take because the police were in on the scheme. The man I needed was at the wedding so I could only pray he’d get out of there like a bat outta hell and find a way to help me.
“You knew this was gonna happen,” Wrath muttered, his dead eyes the colour of lead as he stared at me. “You’re gonna do somethin’ I’m not gonna like.”
I flashed him a smile. “Might not come down to that, but listen good and don’t interrupt. Don’t know how much time we got.”
King
* * *
“Wanted to talk to you man to man,” Staff Sergeant Harold Danner’s voice came from behind me, but I didn’t turn around.
I was looking out on the ocean tryin’ to brand the sight of the Pacific rolled out like black velvet tossed with silver fragments from an over full moon into my memory banks.
Because I had a feelin’ I might not survive the night. And if that was the case, I wanted every last moment spent breathin’ to be as full’a beauty as it could be, even while in the presence of pure evil incarnate in SS Danner.
I’d been out on the cliff for thirty minutes already, Wrath waitin’ with Ventura’s thugs off to one side long after Javier had departed himself. It was clever of him to leave, and I got the sense he never stuck around for long, especially when somethin’ bad could go down. It no doubt lent itself to his longevity as a crime boss.
“Yeah? Want to confess your sins, Danner?” I asked mildly even though I was filled with anger.
It wasn’t hot and volatile, rushin’ through me like a drug the way it had before.
No.
Like a volcano after the eruption, my lava had cooled to dark, impenetrable rock.
I would not be moved or shaken off the course I’d set by petty anger, not when the lives of the ones I loved were in danger and the man threatenin’ them was so close at hand.
“If we’re talking about sins, boy, it’s you who should repent,” Danner called out, deliberately keepin’ a decent distance between us. “You want the chance to come clean, I’m sure I can work with the prosecutor to cut you a deal. Maybe we could even put you in the same house as your daddy.”
“You ever worry about heaven or hell?” I asked, stickin’ my hands in my pockets and tippin’ my chin to the star-strewn sky. “Worry about what level of hell they might put you in when you meet your maker?”
Danner’s laugh was cold. “No. I don’t. I’m the one on the right side of the law.”
“Can’t hide behind your shades of blue in death. Can’t even do it well in life, Harold. You think you’ve got justice on your side just because you’re a cop, and you think I have sin on my side just because I wear a leather cut. Goodness is in action, not position.”
“Pretty speech,” he bit out, clearly frustrated by my philosophizing. “But I came to make a deal with you so you won’t see any more of your family punished for their crimes or the crimes of the ones they love.”