Page 79 of Burn Falls
“No one’s stealing from my den. I make sure of it.”
“So you’re too stupid to have noticed there are fewer humans walking through the door?”
If older vampires weren’t stronger than the younger ones, I would have ripped this fucker’s heart from his chest a long time ago, and especially now for calling me stupid. I wasn’t fucking stupid. “I suppose some nights are a little slower, but what’s the big deal? We’re still making money.”
“The big deal is you’re letting Malone run his own den.”
“Malone’s—”
“Just fucking deal with it, Draven.”
“Deal with it how? That’s not my job. I’m the card guy.”
“Your job is to do whatever the fuck I want you to do. Here’s the address.” He held out a piece of paper, and I took it from him.
“So you want me to take him out?”
“Yes, but since the feds were onto Capone and he’s locked up, we know better now. Make it look like an accident and not a bloodbath.”
Al Capone—the face—was picked up by the cops last year for tax evasion. Everyone knew what he was doing, just not who was doing the actual ordering.
“If I make it look like an accident,” I asked, “then how will our competition know we’re sending a message?”
Renzo leaned back and rested against his desk, arms crossed. “They might not get the message at first. But if all of our competitors seem to keep having what the bulls report asaccidents, then problem solved. The point is, the feds won’t think differently. Now, get the fuck out of here and deal with it.”
Now, because Malone was invading in my territory, I was apparently the one who needed to put an end to it. If it were up to me, I’d compel him to close his doors. But it wasn’t up to me. Renzo wanted to send a message to those who might be thinking that they could do the same. If Malone were killed (the competition), word would get around that there was still a mob presence even though Capone was locked up. No one would dare step on our toes. I knew that Renzo was looking for a replacement for Capone and word was Capone’s cousin, Nitti, was going to be the face when he got out of prison this year after his eighteen-month sentence. That didn’t mean people like Malone could move in while the transitioning was happening. I got it. I just didn’t want to be the one to kill.
I turned to leave, but Renzo’s words stopped me. “No witnesses, Draven. And don’t fuck this up.”
I walked out of his office, and Athan joined me as we made our way toward the front door. “Can you believe this shit?” I knew he’d heard every word that was said.
“What are you going to do?” Athan asked.
“Fuck if I know. It’s not like I can just go into his house and get the job done.” Vampires needed to be invited into a human’s home, and there was no way Malone would let me into his house given we were his competition. Sure, I could compel him if we made eye contact, but I didn’t want to. Even though I was a vampire, it didn’t mean I liked killing. I wasn’t a killer.
Athan and I got in the car and drove to where Malone lived. I had no idea he’d opened a casino because last I’d heard, he ran a brothel.
“What if you push him down the stairs?” Athan suggested as we sat, parked on the street outside of the two-story house.
“Again, how am I getting in?”
Athan thought for a moment. “Just tell him you’re here to make a deal on behalf of Capone.”
“You think he’d think Capone sent me to make a deal? Capone didn’t make deals. He went in guns blazing.”
“And look where that got him.”Eleven years in prison.“Knock on the door and tell him we’re changing our ways then. Say anything to get in the door.”
I sighed. “We’re finding a broad after this.”
“I’m keen on that.” He chuckled.
I walked up to the front door of the two-story home and rang the doorbell. Footsteps sounded from the far end of the house. They were heavy as they moved closer to the front door and I knew instantly it was Malone.
“Delano,” he stated as he opened the door and looked over my shoulder as though he was expecting there to be more than just me. Malone used to frequent my casino, and we knew each other. I actually liked the cat. “What are you doing here?”
“Invite me in.”
“No,” he spat.
