Page 122 of Reaper Flame

“Where’s Mieko?” Vixen spat. “I want to see her!”

“It’s impolite to make demands when you’re an uninvited guest,” Hiram replied coolly. “You need to learn how to fall into line.”

“Easy,” Rocky warned Vixen under his breath. “C knows what she’s doing.”

“It’s a shame we couldn’t see you last night,” I said in a sing-song voice. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought you were avoiding me.”

Conversations with Hiram were a delicate dance. They were like a fancy dinner service. You had to move through the small talk to get to the main course.

“Did you enjoy the performance?” Hiram asked, then looked at West. “I gave one of your sidekicks a starring role. It’s a shame you left so soon.”

West drew himself up to full height. His muscles were bulging through his shirt, ready to tear Hiram’s head off.

“We didn’t feel in a party mood,” I replied.

Hiram shrugged. “Pity.”

“We’re here to collect, Hiram.” I started walking toward him. Zander stayed by my side. “Where is Mieko?”

“I’ve been keeping my new friend safe,” Hiram purred. “Some of my guards have taken a shine to her. I can see you’ve shown up empty-handed, Kitten. How disappointing.”

His words ignited a wild reaction in Vixen. “Let us see her!” she screeched hysterically.

Hiram tutted and wagged a finger at her like he was scolding a naughty child. “If you can’t stay quiet,” Hiram said, “then I’ll have to make you.”

At his word, a group of his men stepped out of the shadows behind him and started closing in. They filed down each side of the pool, leaving us with no escape route. Hell fucking no were they getting within an inch of Vixen!

“You’ve already spent long enough keeping women quiet,” I snarled. “Don’t you think?”

“We’ll see about that,” Hiram said, then to his men, “leave the Kitten, but take out the spares.”

Fury took over me. Hiram’s goons stood no fucking chance.

The Seven men sprung into action as Hiram’s guys charged, taking one each. West grabbed one by the throat and threw him against the wall with a crash like a rag doll. Zander held another in a headlock, breaking his neck in a slick maneuver without breaking a sweat. Rocky danced and dodged around his opponent, sticking out his foot to trip him up. When he was done, Rocky pinned him down and smashed his skull against the tiles. His blood flowed through the dirty grouting, turning it into a sea of red.

It was over in seconds.

“Is that all you got?” West spat on the floor.

I stepped over the growing puddle of blood spilling from the mangled head explosion. Hiram’s slow, sarcastic clapping filled the space.

“Impressive.” Hiram smiled, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “For small-town amateurs.”

“We’re no fucking amateurs,” West growled.

Hiram ignored him, looking through West like he was an annoying insect. He continued to talk to me, “Tell me, did you make the Blackbird suffer? Torturing traitors used to be one of your specialities, Kitty.”

My heart hammering in my chest sent blood racing to my head. I could hear it pounding through my ears like a drum.

He knew.

“We did you a favor,” I replied casually. “The Blackbird was a traitor.”

“And you think I didn’t know?” Hiram shook his head. “You really have gotten sloppy without my guidance, Kitty. Can you imagine my surprise when I retraced his steps to find a clean-up operation in place? Although, I admit I did particularly enjoy your photograph charade. I will have to frame it.”

“You bastard,” Rocky hissed through gritted teeth.

“I’d be careful if I were you,” Hiram threatened, looking him up and down as his mouth curled into a devious snarl. “You’re running out of lives, boy. When I kill you, you won’t come back from the dead again.”

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