Mel is seated at the table, with Anastasia standing right behind her. She looks out of place with the rest of us, and I can see with the way she fidgets that she’s probably regretting her choice to come along with so many people around.
Asch looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t know this was a whole family thing,” he remarks.
I raise my hands up in despair. “I don’t know! The more the merrier!” I point to everyone. “Introductions. Mel, you’ve met Blaze, Asch, and River. That’s Reaper, that’s Bobbi, and over there is Fenrir.”
Bobbi nods at Mel, while Reaper only grunts.
Fenrir, the only halfway friendly person in the room, waves. “Hey. Also, what the hell, Anastasia? How did you get roped into this?”
“Because I love slideshows,” she answers. “I couldn’t possibly miss out.”
“Wait, you know each other?” Blaze asks, looking between them.
“We’re cousins,” Fenrir supplies. “Her mom used to be Winters, before she married Konstantin Voronkov.”
Oh, right. We don’t hang out with the Winters that much, not like we do with the Voronkovs. And even when we do, Fenrir and his sister aren’t usually around. It’s only Silvano Cresci, head of the Cresci Crime Family, and occasionally his partner Kyran Winters.
“Fucking hell, a whole family reunion,” Reaper mutters. He pulls out the chair at the head of the table and slumps down. “Am I the only one not fucking somebody here, or related to them?”
“I’m not,” Bobbi says. “But the New Bristol crime scene is as incestuous as they say.”
“It’s not,” Ares answers with a grin. “You shareone?—”
“Shut up!” I yell. “Oh my god, Ares, you had better be joking about that.”
The guilty look on Kratos’s face tells me that he’s not joking. He never can lie for shit.
“Anyway,” River interjects. “We’re not here to talk about… that.” He’s glaring at Bobbi and Reaper, not even trying to hide his animosity toward them.
“Thank you, River,” Blaze says. “We’ve got more numbers than expected. I thought we’d go over the game plan.” He points at the device in the middle of the table. A projector, which he bought specifically for this whole stupid presentation.
I was in favor of letting everyone figure shit out as they go, but for some reason Blaze, Asch, and River vetoed that.
I take a chip and dip it into the queso—which is lukewarm—while Blaze drones on about his very clever plan.
Itisclever. Mostly.
But he thinks it’s going to work out perfectly.
We’ve already got two wild cards in the form of Ares and Kratos.
Wait, three wild cards. What Mel thinks she’s doing here, I have no idea, but her presence isn’t going to help.
Reaper looks like he’d rather be bashing somebody’s head in. That’s the right attitude, at least, even if he should save it for the right people. I don’t know what his fucking problem is. He wants to protect Carly! This is going to help with that.
Bobbi, of course, still hates us, but she’s been mostly appeased with the info we’ve been feeding her and her own desire for revenge.
I like that about her. Give me a girl who can slam you face first into the asphalt and murder you.
“I’ll need to have direct access to the computer network,” Anastasia says. “And no interruptions. I can’t concentrate on this stuff if I’m being shot at.”
Fenrir groans. “You won’t get shot at. And if you do, don’t tell anyone. Reaper, you’ll keep an eye on her, right? You’ll be closest.”
“No,” Kratos interrupts. “I’ll take care of her. Reaper can do the fighting shit somewhere else.”
Ares elbows Kratos hard enough to make him grunt. “Nope. I’m gonna need you on fire duty with me.”
Asch looks between the two of them. “Fire duty,” he repeats.
