I snorted. “Fucking Aniyah.” She was a menace but a loveable one.
* Worship by Ari Abdul
24
NOVA
“I don’t like splitting up. We should just stick together. Less risky that way.” Zeth’s voice was edged with concern.
I took a deep breath, reminding myself he wasn’t trying to be an overprotective idiot just because we’d fucked. He was just being a good second—cautious and loyal to a fault.Right?
“No.” I let the finality hit before continuing. “I want to cover more ground. It’s not like this is our regular turf, and we don’t know the layout of this mansion. Conrad showed us Frank’s picture, so if we all look for him, we’ll find him faster, and it’ll be easier to drag him away from the crowd.”
Maybe I’d rough him up a bit, make him regret not coming to me with anything he knew first, but that part didn’t need to be said. Turned or born, a supe was a supe, and the Syndicate reigned supreme. He needed to be reminded of that, and I was damn good at reminding these motherfuckers.
The three of them continued to look like they were silently weighing my judgment, and I snapped. My index fingerlengthened into a claw. I pointed it straight at Zeth’s throat since he was the closest, but I was talking to everyone.
“Do you need me to beat your ass right here and now to remind you who the fucking boss is?”
Zeth’s gaze flicked down to the claw, then back up to me. He knew better than to test my patience tonight. After the messy end to the fight, I really needed a win, and getting a lead on this was my only hope.
When I turned the claw toward the others, Nick jerked back like I’d burned him, but Conrad lifted his hands in playful surrender. That earned the smallest curl of a smile from me, and I got a wider grin from Conrad.
Behind closed doors, I might bend to their will, might moan their names into the dark, but when it came to Syndicate business, I was judge, jury, and executioner. No debate. No exceptions.
“So, we’re just gonna take him out back and beat the shit out of him until he tells us the answers to our questions?”
Nick’s tone wavered between disgust and curiosity. I closed my eyes for a beat, letting the air slide through my lungs. He still didn’t get it. I reminded myself that he was still fresh to the supe world and thinking about this through a human lens.
“I run this town,” I said, my voice flat, final. “Everything goes through me. People know that. That’s why they respect me… or fear me.” My voice dropped lower, the words becoming sharp and certain. “I’m the police here. Just not the kind you’re used to. Not the kind that wastes time sitting across the table while they question you with a coffee in hand.”
His Adam's apple bobbed, and although he glared at me and huffed like I’d personally insulted him, he didn’t argue. Damn fragile human.
“Most of the people at this party either work for the Syndicate or are desperate to. For example, the homeowner’s a broker trying to get in our good graces, so I saw an opportunity.” I shrugged, leaning back into the cool leather seat. “I hate planning parties. Told him if he handled the after-party for this event, I’d put in a good word with Ezra. Now, he’s my bitch, which means his house is fair game.”
Nick looked to Zeth and Conrad in question, like I was just talking out of my ass, which infuriated me. The former ignored him completely in favor of looking down at his phone, while Conrad gave a small shrug that said everything.That’s just how it is.
The car rolled to a halt. Zeth reached for his belt as he spoke, already shifting forward. “Let’s go. Most of the guests should be inside by now. Frank included.”
Agreeing with his assessment even though he was being a little bossy about it, I reached for the door. His hand caught mine mid-motion, firm and possessive.
“I go first.”
When I lifted a brow at him, he gave me a sheepish grin. Softening his voice, he reasoned, “It’s safer that way.”
Before I could say a word, he slipped out, his eyes slicing through the darkness before turning back to me. His gaze softened as he extended his hand and nodded to say it was all clear.
I took it, letting him pull me up since I was in a skirt and not my regular pants. His other hand caught my waist and lifted me. For a second, his eyes dragged down my body and back up, two live flames that burned through me as his thumb ran against the silky fabric at my waist.
He stepped in close, lips hovering next to my ear. “Even though this one isn’t ripped up, I don’t like it,” he murmured. His thumb moved up, brushing the strip of bare skin between my top and the skirt. “Don’t like others seeing you like this. It’s too tempting.” His breath brushed my neck, his voice rough as he muttered, “Makes me want to commit mass murder just to keep the image all to myself.”
A shiver slipped down my spine, my knees threatening to give. This wasn’t the careful, restrained Zeth who kept his distance and hid behind childhood friendship. This was raw hunger. Possession. This version of him that had been stripped bare and was unafraid to want… I liked it. Too much. Too fucking much.
No one had ever told me they wanted to kill just to protect a memory of me. Twisted as it was, it felt… sweet.Real. Proof that this wasn’t born from a momentary lapse of judgment or fear of losing me. This side of him had been simmering beneath the surface all along, just waiting for its moment.
Still, he didn’t get to have it easy—not after rejecting me.
Brushing my hand up his chest, I leaned in. “Some of these people owe us money,” I whispered. “Let’s wait to commit mass murder until after they pay up, okay, my second?”
