Seven
“Sue Ahn. Why am I not surprised?” Deacon glared at the woman who’d been an okay sub-contractor, but who had never understood boundaries. She’d often been used by the Business and had left a few years ago, probably let go due to poor follow-through. That or she’d followed Burleigh when he’d left.
He found it telling to learn of her involvement in this mess.
Hot damn. Now they had more than just supposition of Romero Burleigh’s involvement.
“My name is Wings,” she growled.
Sue Ahn didn’t do much wetwork. The woman usually served as a go-between. She could be deadly, no question. But Sue liked logistics and planning more than getting her hands dirty. She moved unobtrusively and could be counted on to be discreet. Her loyalty was questionable, as she answered to the highest bidder, making her a less than trustworthy asset.
“You have to earn the name, sweetheart.” He saw her tattoo on her wrist and sneered. “Ink doesn’t mean shit in the Business world.” He shot her a patronizing smile to annoy her, pleased when she scowled.
“I’m just here to deliver a message, asshole. My boss wants a word with the blond bitch.”
Solene leaned against the wall, not looking like herself.
“Deacon. Whatshup?” Slurring her words, obviously drugged.
He snorted. “You’re lucky she’s drugged or thatblond bitchwould be kicking your ass.”
“Whatever.”
“You get one shot at living through this. Tell me what Burleigh is up to, then bail.”
“Burleigh? What about him?” Sue shrugged. “I’m no longer employed by the Business. I’m solo, strictly freelance. I have no idea what Burleigh is up to. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. My boss is paying me too well. That and he’s crazy. I turn on him, I won’t see tomorrow.”
“You fuck me over, I guarantee you the same results.”
“You talk a big game, but you won’t.” She shook her head. “You’re a dickhead, but at heart, a decent guy. You’re weak, Shadow. Pathetic.” Sue withdrew a pistol and at the same time she raised the weapon, he dropped a knife from his wrist sheath into his hand and hurled it.
The blade impaled her off-hand. She gave a muffled shriek, dropped her gun, and tried to pull it out, blood pouring down her fingers to the floor. One knife gone, so he replaced it with two more, one in each hand.
He moved toward Sue, keeping himself between her and Solene, knowing he had little time before a larger party no doubt joined them. “Solene, can you get into one of the stalls?” he asked, thinking it would provide some cover.
“N-nope.” She giggled, and he swore. Sober Solene didn’t giggle. “Tryin’ to not fall down.”
With Sue glaring holes into him and a threat soon to come in from outside the small lavatory, he needed to move fast. He hurried to Sue, easily avoided her attack, and delivered a knockout of his own. He didn’t like hurting women, but she’d threatened Solene and tried to shoot him. All bets were off.
She went down, hard, while he dragged Solene to the farthest stall and shoved her inside. “Stay here.”
“Sh-shure.” She giggled some more. “Maybe. My hands l-look like tentacles.”
“Christ.”
Before he could move Sue’s body out of the way, three men entered the bathroom and blocked the only way out. One remained with his back to the door while the others attacked. Deacon threw one knife after the other. The first struck the taller of the two in the shoulder, but the shorter man had yanked a stall door open, blocking the second knife.
While the larger man yanked the weapon from his body, the other threw himself at Deacon, who dodged and nearly tripped over Sue.
He regained his footing and kicked at shorter guy’s knee, causing him to stumble. Deacon followed with a roundhouse to the gut, and when the jerk bent over, Deacon sent an uppercut to his jaw. The smaller guy slumped to the ground, unmoving next to Sue. The larger of the two bled from his shoulder but otherwise remained unfazed as he did his best to knock Deacon’s head off.
Deacon continued to dodge the attacks, but the bastard shoved him into the counter, bruising his hip. As Deacon turned, he saw Solene peering over the stall, standing on a toilet, watching everything. With her luck, she’d fall in, maybe crack her head open in the process.
A large hand cuffed him in the face.
“Fuck.” He feinted left, rolled right, and managed to grab one of his knives from the floor. Rising, he stabbed the giant and took a glancing blow on his shoulder. Painful but not damaging. Aggravated in the extreme, Deacon put on a burst of speed and sank his knife into the dick’s chest. As the big guy wavered on his feet, Deacon withdrew the weapon, then sliced in and out of the man, puncturing a lung and severing a major artery.
The giant went down in a bloody heap. Which left one more man to deal with. But this one knew how to move. Deacon barely avoided a kick aimed at his head. Great. A martial artist.
