“Yeah,” I answered, shifting the stack toward him. “Wizard did his thing, and we sent all the sensitive shit over the secure server. Everything checks out clean. Nothing red-flagged on finances either. The guys are solid.”
Blaze raised an eyebrow. “Took you long enough. Thought you’d buried yourself in paperwork and we’d have to send in search and rescue.”
“Not all of us can solve problems by lighting shit on fire,” I shot back.
Blaze smirked, completely unapologetic. “Nothing says finished like ash and rubble.”
King ignored us, flipping through the files briefly before settling back in his chair. He studied me for a moment, his permanent scowl firmly in place and his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “What else? You’re wearing that look.”
I leaned forward, my elbows braced on my knees and fingers loosely interlaced. “Got some micro-probes hitting our shell companies. Small transactions, pattern testing.”
King’s scowl deepened, his voice lowering dangerously. “Someone’s testing our fence line.”
“Exactly.” My fingers tightened briefly. “I tracked them back to the compliance firm in the building on Second Street downtown.”
Blaze straightened, the playful edge gone, replaced by a calculated intensity. “They’re poking at our security?”
I nodded once, my eyes locked with King’s. “Feels like a diagnostic. No moves to steal or disrupt yet.”
King’s expression was carefully neutral, but I knew him well enough to see the quiet anger simmering beneath the surface. “And your move?”
“I prefer to see the board before we make a move,” I replied evenly, meeting his gaze without hesitation. “I’m paying them a personal visit tomorrow. After I do a little more digging.”
King’s lips curled just slightly, the smallest hint of approval breaking through his typically hard expression. “Good. Find out what the fuck is going on and handle it.”
“On it.” I pushed to my feet.
Blaze tilted his head. “Just information gathering?”
I nodded as I headed for the door. “Keepin’ everything subtle for now. If I decide to set something on fire later, you’ll be my first call.”
Blaze’s dark chuckle followed me as I stepped into the hall.
The following morning,I left my house and went back to the compound, holing up in my office for a few hours. I spent a little more time studying the probes and Hounds’ companies they were targeting. When I had enough information to know what I was looking for, I decided to head out to visit the compliance firm.
After grabbing my keys and a stack of files, I shut and locked my door. Then I stalked down the hall, through the lounge and the kitchen to the back entrance of the large garage built onto the clubhouse. It wasn’t as big as Inferno Cycles and Customs—our business located downtown and managed by Cross—but it was enough to house all of our bikes in rough weather. There was also an area for us to work on them for small repairs and adjustments.
As I rode, my mind sifted through the information and numbers I’d gathered so far and decided exactly what I would be looking for when I got to the firm. Numbers weren’t my only talent. I was very good at reading people as well. One of the skills that made me lethal in a card game.
This was just another game—watching for the bluffs, counting the cards, and finding the ace in the hole. Whoever was trying to fuck with the Hounds of Hellfire obviously didn’t know who they’d brought to the game.
2
ACE
The heat of an August morning in Georgia soaked into my skin, sweat dampening my T-shirt underneath my cut as I pulled up to the brick building downtown that housed the compliance firm. The sun glinted off the windows as I killed my Harley’s engine, swung my leg over the seat, and stepped onto the hot pavement.
For a split second, my gaze narrowed on the glass doors, irritation flickering through me. The purr of the ride had cleared my head enough to focus on the task at hand, but it hadn’t been able to soothe all of my anger. I was still pissed as hell someone had the balls to try to fuck with the Hounds.
Grabbing the stack of files I’d prepared—full of enough financial bullshit to convince any analyst I had a legitimate reason for dropping by—I headed inside the building.
Cool air rushed over me as I stepped through the doors. The reception area was all chrome, marble, and neutral shades. I nodded politely at the receptionist behind her large wooden desk.
“Can I help you?” she greeted me with a practiced, polite smile. Her eyes darted over my tattoos and cut, quickly assessing me as someone who probably shouldn’t be there.
I wondered what she’d think if she saw my financial portfolio and the name on the building's lease. Now wasn't the time to find out, though.
“Hope so. I’d like to see a compliance analyst.” I deliberately kept my voice mild and nonthreatening so she wouldn’t immediately hit a hidden panic button. I was doing my best not to intimidate. Not exactly an easy feat for a guy my size wearing a Hounds of Hellfire cut, leather pants, and boots.
