Well, I can't say for sure what the Kings will do anymore. Originally the Kings would have just swept them up and put them to work under a pimp. But if they have an inkling I've worked with these girls, it will be so much worse. Calamity Gardel has hated my family for as long as I can remember. His animosity has risen to new heights in the wake of Brooklyn's departure.
I want to be angry with my brother Kase for getting involved with Calamity's daughter. But I can't. Sometimes we don't get to choose who we love. And it's clear that Kase loves Brooklyn beyond the bounds of sanity. I'm willing to take the backlash that entails up to a point. But not this. If the Kings hurt those girls because they had the misfortune to know me, I'll never forgive myself.
I'm getting ahead of myself. I have one last ace to draw before I go leaping headfirst into outright panic. I've saved this favor for a while, waiting until I needed it. I pull out my phone and dial the number by memory.
At first, no one picks up. I continue calling until a gruff, male voice snaps, "What the fuck do you want?"
"Want to modulate your tone, Damon?" I say in a dangerous whisper. "I'm not above crossing the line to knock a few of your teeth loose."
Damon Osbourne falls silent on the other end of the phone. Experience with me has taught him to keep a civil tongue in his head. Even now, when we're technically enemies and the fact I'm the sister of the Spades' president should mean nothing, he doesn't mouth off again. He's probably stroking the scar tissue that marks his left cheek, given to him courtesy of myself and the remains of a glass bottle during a bar fight. He knows better than to fuck with me by now.
"I'm calling to collect my debt."
Though I'd done my damndest to hurt him once upon a time, I'd also saved Damon's life. So although we hold very different allegiances these days, he still owes me one.
Damon hisses out a breath on the other end of the phone. "You can't be fucking serious. Right now? I cross the line into Spade territory, and I'm dead."
"You cross me, and you're dead. Same result," I shoot back. "But you can unpucker your asshole. I'm not asking you to cross the line. I need you to see if two working girls wandered into your territory. If they did send them back over to our side of town, and you can consider us even."
There's a wary silence, and then he releases a weary laugh. "You just want me to check if we've collected a few of your whores? That's all you want?"
"I want you to return them if they're in your area. And don't call them whores, Damon," I say, steel slipping into my tone. "Their names are Dominique and Lily."
"Fine," he agrees amicably, much happier now that I've handed him an easy task. "Fine. Give me an hour, and I'll do a little digging. And we're square, even if they're not here. You have no idea what I'm risking just by talking to you."
He hangs up without giving me a chance to respond.
I spend the next hour waiting with Eva, watching girls come and go. No one is fucking stupid enough to proposition me, no matter how good I look. Maybe it's the Spade inked into my hand. Maybe it's my expression that suggests I'll cut them if they try. I'm itching for someone to start shit so I can pull out my brass knuckles and break jaws. Instead, I just wear circles into my worry stone like an impotent little shit as the minutes tick by.
The phone barely has time to ring before I've pressed it to my ear and answered.
"Well?"
"They're not here," Damon says without preamble. "I checked with all the boys. We don't have any girls by those names on our side."
My heart kicks into high gear. By process of elimination, that leaves only one other place they could be.
"Thank you,” I force out, then hang up.
Eva's worried face peers at me. She heard at least part of the exchange.
"What now, Penny?" she asks.
Now I was about to do something monumentally stupid.
"Now I will bring them home," I tell her with far more confidence than I feel. "Wait for them on this side of the line, won't you?"
"You can't," she gasps. "Penny, that's suicide! They wouldn't want that!"
What Dominique and Lily want is a moot point if they're dead. I ignore her pleas for me to return and sling a leg over my bike. It's a short ride from Morley to the boundary line.
I take a deep breath as I reach that boundary, then gun the throttle, racing right over it and into enemy territory.
2
Calamity
Greer's shrieks echo through the warehouse and bounce back to us in a jumbled cacophony of syllables. He shudders and bucks violently but can't worm his way from beneath my foot. His knee gives way beneath the sledgehammer blows I rain down on him, and the screams reach an inhuman pitch. Fury rides me hard as I bring the weapon down again and again.
