Page 20 of Silk and Sirens

“The van’s been hit ten minutes ago.”

“Hit?” I asked, placing the call on loud so I could pull up the trackers. “Hit how?”

I’d personally designed the drop-off routes to avoid crossing paths with rivals, limiting the possibility of this exact situation.

The van’s signal blinked on the map, three miles off course.

I turned to Sebastian. “Our van’s been fucking stolen.”

Someone had the audacity to steal from us and didn’t even bother disabling the fucking tracker. They were either overconfident or stupid.

I found our van tucked beneath a bridge, the side open and two men grinning, chatting and snorting our fucking product direct from a sliced-open bag.

Langdon vibrated beside me, barely contained energy making his movements quick and restless as he flicked his lighter on and off.

As if in sync we both exited the car at the same time, Langdon rushing over to grab the first guy by the back of his neck, gun pressed to his head. His accomplice froze, eyes like fucking saucers. He didn’t even notice me, not until he heard the sound of metal against concrete.

“Go for a weapon, and you’ll be dead before you even reach it,” I warned, scanning them for emblems, ink, just anything that might tell me who the hell they belonged to.

The only symbol I could make out was the graffiti overhead.

“You mugs Peckham Crowns?” I asked, and Lang’s guy mumbled a somewhat confident, “Yeah.”

“Hmm,” I murmured, dragging the hammer behind me as I stepped forward. The metal scraped against the floor, the sharp sound echoing beneath the bridge. “Does Bradley know you’re stealing from the Beast?”

Langdon shoved his guy forward, forcing him to his knees. With a sharp whistle, he angled his gun towards the other man, who was just smart enough to follow the unspoken command and drop as well. Although reluctantly.

“We didn’t know this was the Beast’s,” Lefty said, his head bowed and shoulders hunched. Righty, though, held my gaze as if he had any sort of power in this situation.

I take it back—he isn’t smart.

So I drove my fist through his cheek, hard enough to break something. If I chose the hammer, I’d likely kill him. And I needed them both alive for at least the next few minutes.

“Who gave you the information regarding the shipment?”

Lefty glanced up at Lang, his eyes widening, and I understood why. Langdon stood there in his mask, his dark-blond hair dried into a slight curl and eyes like embers—brown and holding a molten amber glow that promised death.

A strange sound escaped his lips, not an answer, and Righty was being defiant once more. Satisfaction burst through me when Righty’s knee shattered, his scream too loud before I reached down and grasped his throat.

“Let’s try this again,” I said evenly. “Who gave you the information about this shipment?”

I eased the pressure slightly, but he offered nothing except choked gargles and broken cries.

Useless.

“We don’t know!” Lefty shrieked when I raised the hammer in his direction. “Bradley got the tip. We were just given the route and told where to hit. That’s it. I swear!”

I glanced at Langdon, who shrugged.

With a sigh I called through to the back-up team. “Pick up Silas and make your way to my pin. You’ll need to clean up and finish the delivery.”

I hung up, and Langdon took two shots, the silencer muffling the sound. Sebastian’s number popped up just as both men slumped forward, dead.

“Has it been dealt with?”

“Yeah. It’s handled. Another team’s en route,” I said, swapping to video in case Langdon wanted to speak. “Find anything your end?”

Sebastian’s gaze shifted off-camera, and a whimper tore through the background.