“Send me the address.”
There’s a pause as she types and sends a text. “Iseverything—”
“Merci, mon amie.Truly.”
I hang up and charge upstairs for my keys, praying I’m not too late.
HELL’S GARDEN
Poppy
If Beelzebub’s is hell’s library, Indigo is hell’s garden.
I lift my hand, fingertips grazing the soft petals of blue bleeding hearts and baby’s breath and sapphire roses weaving through the overhead rafters. Every candlelit surface is kissed by deep sapphire floral patterns and potted plants all ranging from sky blue to midnight violet.
Slipping my mini Glock into its holster at my hip, I nod to the mountainous bouncers and weave through the crowd singing and swaying to the live indie band playing beside the bar. Circe Castellanos, a curvaceous woman with rich brown skin and electric yellow hair in a blue lace jumpsuit, saunters over and leans her palms on the counter with a secret smile.
“Evening, boss. Here for dinner?”
I nod, but I don’t return her grin as I order a drink. The high of solving Jett’s murder died the moment I realized it wasn’t a win. This is exactly what happened to the Volkovs when our families were at war. The Morgenstern empire is as stable as a house of cards. We’ve already lost significant forces, significant power.
How much more can we lose until we fall into our own tomb?
The only sliver of light on this dark day is that Circe, my friend and the most coveted informant in my arsenal, found Kai. I trusted her with the intel of my family’s disarray and Kai’s hand in the scheme. Shesnatched him from whichever gambling den he’d been pissing away his time and money in. The backstabbing mole is safely stashed in the freezer, patiently waiting for my arrival after having undergone several beatings by the largest bouncers here for his insubordination.
I’m in no rush to meet with him, though. Perhaps his balls will do me a favor and fall off while I sit here and enjoy myself.
Relishing the bourbon’s burn, I ask, “Have you been able to find Nik?”
Since Vlad and Kai have shown their true colors and turned against my family, I’ve placed a bounty on Nik’s head. If anyone can sniff him out, it’s Circe.
But she’s shaking her head, snuffing my confidence. “No such luck.”
“Kuso.Do you haveanygood news up your sleeves?”
“The opposite, actually.” Circe grimaces, leaning closer and lowering her voice. “Do you remember the arms dealer, Vanessa Crowe?”
I know everyone who works for my family, especially when they’ve deserted us. “Hai.She was the first turncoat. What about her?”
“I broke into her apartment, and I’ve never left a place faster in my life. Dirty dishes rotting in the sink. Moldeverywhere.It’s like she hadn’t been there in months.”
“Not a surprise. Vanessa probably used her brain and moved.”
Circe shakes her head. “You know the webs I weave. I pulled every string to find her and came up short. It’s like she never existed. Same goes for the others you mentioned. I don’t think they’ve defected, boss. I think they’re dead.”
I wasn’t in a particularly good mood before, but now?
Now, I’m pissed.
I knock back my drink and plop the empty glass on the counter. “About that dinner…”
Flagging a pair of bouncers, Circe leads us to the hallway hidden by a blue velvet curtain behind the bar. She unlatches an industrial door on the left wall, revealing the frosted innards and my mole handcuffed to a metal chair coated in ice.
Malakai, spitting blood from his last beating onto the frozen floor, glances up and blanches. “Jesus.”
“Wrong Christ,” I croon as the guards grab his chair and drag it to the next room.
Circe’s tattoo parlor is a neat and tidy space. On the far wall, a screen streams an underworld news broadcast on mute, subtitles scrolling rhythmically. A neon sign above the entrance door across the room reads:Fuck therapy, get a tattoo.