CHAPTER 6
Wraith
I groanas my phone vibrating on the nightstand stirs me from sleep. It’s not morning yet. Well, not morning enough to get up, anyway, so whatever it is must be important. Very few people even have my number.
Rolling over, I feel around in the dark for the phone, cracking my eyes open when I reach it.
There’s a message in our Murder Buddies chat.
Shadow: Downstairs in the rec room in ten. Mandatory.
A shiver moves down my spine. Fuck. What could be happening in the middle of the night? Whatever it is, it can’t be good.
I roll out of bed and grab my discarded pajama pants, tugging them on before stopping in the bathroom for a quick piss. By the time I enter the rec room almost everyone is there. Phantom and Ghost trail in a few seconds behind me, all of us focused on Shadow, who looks like he’s about to blow some shit up. Specter is next to him, arms folded across his chest, eyes downcast, but his expression is full of anger.
“What the fuck happened?” Carnage asks. “Who are we fucking up?”
Shadow raises his hand and bows his head slightly, his jaw ticking with tension. “Whisper found the guys who shot Specter.”
My eyes immediately move to Whisper. He’s sitting in his chair as stoically as usual, so only those of us who know him well can see the tiny hints of rage simmering under his skin. The vein pulsing in his temple, the tight set of his jaw, the creased skin between his brows. He’s barely keeping it together.
Last year, on what was supposed to be a run-of-the-mill job, we were ambushed by an unknown group and Specter ended up shot. Worst night ever. We thought we were going to lose him just as he was finding his place with Colson. We’ve been working on finding out who was behind it ever since.
“Whisper will explain,” Shadow says, glancing at our brother.
“Nimble was close, but either they moved or they have spots all over the city. He called me tonight asking for backup to Blackwell Bridge because he saw a familiar car.”
Nimble nods but doesn’t chime in.
“We followed them,” Whisper continues. “And found the house where they must spend the majority of their time.”
“How do you know that?” Phantom asks.
“Because I watched the place for six hours. They arrived at staggered times and every single one of them had a relaxed demeanor when they arrived. There was no party, no extra guests, no noise at all. They live there.”
I nod, glancing at Specter, who is practically vibrating with rage.
“So what’s the plan?” Carnage asks.
“Murder,” Specter says, his voice dark and rough. “They tried to take me from Colson.”
Shadow looks down at his watch. “We have four hours until the sun rises.”
“Let’s do this,” Ghost says. “Any specific approach?”
“Descend like the angel of fucking death on that house,” Shadow says, his eyes burning with anger. “Everyone you find dies how you see fit, just make it quick. By the time the sun rises, none of them are still breathing.”
I clap my hands. “Let’s go.”
“Meet in the foyer in ten minutes,” Shadow says. “I’m coming with you. I want to see their faces with my own eyes before they die.”
Specter squeezes Shadow’s shoulder in comfort. This whole situation tore up our boss. He felt betrayed and that he’d put our lives at risk, which is ridiculous. Everything we do puts our lives at risk.
I hurry up the stairs and get into proper clothes, twisting my hair into a bun instead of brushing it. No time. I’m ready to make some motherfuckers bleed.
By the time I get downstairs again, we’re all there except Carnage. Colson and Specter stand close together, arguing about something, judging from their heated body language and urgent whispers.
Shadow walks over, inserting himself between them and speaking softly to Colson, who grabs Shadow’s arms, raising his voice and startling all of us.
