Stalking Fate Page 15

  “But boss…”

  A sharp look from the dark haired brute was all it took to silence Asa’s protest. With his goon back under control, the leader moved into the circle and stopped less than a foot away from Duncan. Raising his gaze to meet the cold blue stare of the other man, Duncan arched his eye brow and grinned.

  “You have got to be shittin’ me. Butcher? Is that really you underneath that beard?”

  Hating the sound of his old nickname, Duncan struggled not to cringe as he greeted his old friend. “How’s it going Hatchet?”

  “A hell of a lot better now.” Hatchet laughed, pulling Duncan into an embrace. “Damn man, Vincent has been looking everywhere for you. Where the fuck have you been? No, wait, don’t tell me. Let’s head back to Lobos and you can tell me all about it over a beer.”

  Ignoring the stunned expressions of the other men, Hatchet draped one arm over his shoulder, and led him out of the circle.

  “What the hell are you doing? I brought your sorry ass here to beat the fuck out of him, not ask him out on a date.” Chet yelled as they breezed past him.

  Stopping mid-step, Hatchet ran his tongue across his teeth. “Pardon me a moment will ya?”

  “Of course.”

  In three long strides, Hatchet was back standing over Chet. “Now listen here you lying piece of shit. Do you have any idea who that man is?” Looking as if he was about to piss his pants any minute, Chet swallowed hard and shook his head. “That is Duncan Kane, aka The Butcher. You know, the assassin/hitman/bounty hunter Vincent has been trying to find for the last twenty years?”

  “H-he’s Duncan Kane?”

  “That’s right you little weasel.” Hatchet snapped, slapping him in the back of the head. “And I can’t wait to see your Uncle’s reaction when he finds out you accused his former right hand man of petty theft to cover your own ass.”

  Eyes bulging from their socket, Chet stared up at Hatchet. “Y-you got no proof I took anything…”

  “Don’t need proof, just finding out you failed to bring back all the money from your route for the third time in a month will be enough to get your Uncle to send you into the Cage.” With a cocky grin spread across his face, Hatchet turned and headed back to Duncan leaving a very pale Chet in his wake. Draping his arm back over his shoulder, he resumed leading Duncan in the direction of the bar. “Come my old friend, let’s go get wasted.”

  From the roof of the convenience store, Senka watched as Duncan walked away with the man he called Hatchet. “Bastard son of a coyote.” Chet mumbled once they were out of ear shot. “Fucking Hatchet thinks he’s so tough, but I’ll show him. The day I take over the Horde his ass will be mine.” Making an obscene gesture with his hand, Chet attempted to turn and go the opposite direction but instead ran face first into his own wall of goons. “What the hell? Get out of my way you idiots,” he snapped. Rubbing his forehead he attempted to push his way through them without luck.

  “Sorry little man, boss said you need to speak with your Uncle.”

  Slipping their arms underneath Chet’s, Asa and a blond haired man scooped him up and proceeded to drag him backwards in the direction Duncan had disappeared. The third stayed behind to gather up his two fallen comrades Duncan had knocked out earlier.

  “Wait, no please. I’ll pay you. Just give me a few days, I’ll get the money. Please.” But his pleas fell on deaf ears.

  “What will happen to him?” Senka asked Winston, as together they watched them all disappear into the distance.

  “If he really has been skimming off his route, Vincent will kill him.”

  “But didn’t they say Vincent was his Uncle?”

  “That won’t help him, if anything that will make it worse. Vincent expects nothing short of undying devotion from his men, so the fact his own nephew was stealing from him will be seen as the ultimate betrayal.” Sighing, Winston gave one last look in the direction which they had left and rose to his feet. “Which means I’ll most likely have a brand new asshole to contend with on the next collection day.”

  Waiting until Winston descended the ladder to the ground, Senka flashed. She moved from roof to roof and managed to catch up with Duncan and Hatchet just a few blocks down the road.

  Having left behind the quiet streets of the market area, the pair strolled side by side through a bustling area that appeared to be a downtown clubbing district. Unlike the poorly lit market area where the normal citizens of Rio feared leaving their homes at night, this side of town was lit up brighter than Lanoria castle on Solstice Eve. Loud music pumped into the streets from the various clubs, while their bright neon signs beckoned the already highly intoxicated pedestrians to come inside and continue the poisoning of their bodies. Outside each of the clubs stood a doorman, many dressed in a black suit similar to the one Duncan was wearing. Like deadly sentries they watched over the security as they checked patrons for weapons and quickly dispensed of any fool who dared try to create trouble in their establishment.

  But even through the pulsating mass of people churning through the tightly packed streets, Hatchet and Duncan were a breeze to spot. Large and intimidating, they parted the late night crowd like a pair of wolves through sheep. Doing her best to avoid the obscene amount of lighting, Senka ducked into the shadow of a roof top bill board and watched as Hatchet and Duncan headed toward a six-story brick building in the center of all the chaos.

  “This must be the place.” Senka mumbled, staring nervously at a red snarling wolf’s head hanging above the door.

  The red neon sign lit the only visible entrance into the building which, unlike the other clubs on the strip and their steady flow of people coming in and out, was locked down tighter than a prison. Only select people were being allowed to go inside and the majority of them were men dressed in suits much like Duncan’s.

  “Geez, Duncan wasn’t joking about the security. This guy Vincent either has all his money locked up in this place, or he is one paranoid Shifter.”

  Doing a quick sweep of the area, Senka counted at least ten guards around the perimeter of the building, with another three stationed on the roof. Knowing she was going to have to get closer to him to tail him inside, Senka pulled the shirt tighter around her and cloaked herself in her veil. “Here’s hoping this works old man.”

  Flashing down to a dark alley near where he was about to pass, she waited until he walked by and slipped in behind him. With a quick tug on the back of his coat to let him know she was there, she nervously cast a glance up at Hatchet. To her relief, he showed no signs of detecting her scent. Celebrating that minor victory, she pressed herself tightly against Duncan’s back, and followed him as close as physically possible without actually climbing on top of him.

  Moving as if she was his shadow, Senka matched each of Duncan’s steps with one of her own until the pair came to a stop in front of Lobos. Luckily, unlike many of the other bars and clubs, the entrance to Lobos was dark, only being illuminated by the red neon of the wolf sign.

  “Hatchet.” The doorman greeted Duncan’s companion before turning his attention to Duncan. “And you are.”

  “He’s with me.” Hatchet spoke in his place. Narrowing his eyes at the doorman, who was easily a head taller and twice the width of him, Hatchet dared the man to object.

  “You know the rules, Hatchet. Vincent would kill me if I let you bring an outsider into his club.”

  Quicker than she could blink, Hatchet was in the doorman’s face with a blade pressed against his throat. “Or I could kill you now and save Vincent the time.”

  Within seconds, half of the ground floor guards had the two of them surrounded, all with weapons drawn. Swallowing hard, Senka pressed herself closer to Duncan’s back in a desperate attempt to keep from being bumped into.

  “Slit my throat if you have to Hatchet, it’ll be a hell of a lot more merciful than what Vincent will do to me if I let you bring a stranger inside.”

  A low growl rumbled from deep in Hatchet’s throat. Biting her lip, Senka wat
ched as the bulky Shifter pressed the knife deeper into the larger man’s throat. Fearing she was about to witness a man die for no other reason than because he was doing his job, she held her breath to prevent herself from making a sound that might alert someone of her presence.

  All around them, the people in the streets were stopping to watch the events unfolding in front of Vincent’s exclusive club. Fearing the worst and becoming quite uncomfortable with the proximity of the guards, Senka was about to flash to the roof of a nearby building when suddenly a voice from inside the club caught her attention.

  “What the hell is going on out here?”

  Seconds later, a man with close cut brown hair and stunning green eyes appeared in the doorway. Every bit as tall as Duncan, he was dressed in a grey suit that hugged his lithe body in all the right places and stood with an air of confidence and control that demanded the attention of all those around him.

  Instantly the tension doubled as Hatchet, the only amongst them who didn’t seem intimidated by the cold stare of the tall stranger, huffed. “Just trying to come inside for a drink John, but this asshole wouldn’t let my friend in.”

  “No outsiders Hatchet, you know the rules. Vincent will have all our heads if we let you bring another one of your psychotic friends inside after what happened last time.” Straightening the lapels of his coat, the green eyed man turned to go back inside. “Now unless the pair of you would like to settle this dispute inside the Cage, I suggest you release my doorman, so he can resume preforming his duties.”

  “Maybe I can convince you to reconsider… Jinx?”

  At the mention of his nickname, Jinx turned and narrowed his eyes on Duncan. “No one has called me that for years.” Moving closer, he walked a wide circle around Duncan, eyeballing him from head to toe, “No one that is currently breathing anyway.”

  “Well I seem to be breathing just fine.”

  “Butcher?”

  “John.”

  The corner of John’s mouth lifted in a twisted grin. “You got a lot of nerve showing up here after all this time.”

  Duncan shrugged nonchalantly. From her crouched position at Duncan’s feet, Senka struggled to control her breathing as John closed the gap between them. “We thought you were dead. Killed by that bastard we sent you to take care of.” Crossing his arms over his chest, John regarded him angrily. “What happen? You pussy out?”

  Calmer than she had ever seen him, Duncan looked John square and the eye. “That matter is between me and Vincent, not some flunky doorman who couldn’t make the cut in the field.”

  “Why you son of a…”

  Before he could utter another word, Duncan was in John’s face with a knife pressed to his jugular. The quickness and suddenness of the move caught Senka off guard and left her stranded right in the middle of a group of very pissed off looking Shifters, all of whom were very heavily armed. Worried they were going to rush Duncan and trample her in the process, Senka flashed to the now abandoned entrance of the bar, less than a foot away from where Hatchet had propped himself up. Scowling at his smug expression, Senka turned her attention back to Duncan and prayed to the stars he knew what the hell he was doing.

  Seemingly oblivious to the overabundance of attention he had gathered, Duncan increased the pressure on the blade. “Your call.”

  With a glare that looked as if he was trying to incinerate Duncan with his eye balls, John clenched his fists at his side. For a moment, Senka thought for sure he was going to go for it, so she pulled her blade and prepared for the worst. Luckily, John was not as stupid as he looked and after brief consideration, he reluctantly conceded. “Fine, if you’re really dumb enough to come inside, I’ll take you, but only to see Vincent.”

  “What the hell do you think I am doing here?” Releasing John, Duncan twirled his blade and slid it back into the sheath beneath his jacket. “I damn sure didn’t come all this way to drink the crappy beer.”

  “Then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.” John huffed. Straightening his jacket, he led the way toward the door.

  All around her, men relaxed and stowed their weapons. Confident the danger had passed, Senka tucked her own knife away and watched them one by one move back to their assigned posts. Next to her Hatchet pushed off the wall and headed inside ahead of the rest of them, leaving the doorway completely unguarded for a brief moment. Not one to waste an opportunity, Senka flashed through the abandoned opening and followed him, at a safe distance, down the narrow corridor.

  As they neared the end of the tight metal hall, the sounds of an obstreperous crowd rose to greet them. Curious as to what sort of vile entertainment could elicit such excited fervor from a group of hardened criminals and killers, Senka pursed her lips and pressed forward.

  Exiting the tunnel just a few feet behind Hatchet, Senka hesitated and took in the expansive room before her. Ornate steel tables and furniture, whose gleaming metal had been twisted and contorted into beautiful, yet haunting, shapes decorated every inch of the polished cement floor. Blood red walls, decorated with a multitude of archaic weapons and metal décor surrounded her, while iron chandeliers hung from exposed beams highlighted their glistening surfaces.

  But it was what was in the center of the open expanse, surrounded by a large crowd of screaming and cheering men, that she found the source of the commotion she heard in the hall. The Cage. The ominous words, carved into a metal plate hung high up on thick twisted bars, clear for all to see. With no obvious exit or entrance, the inside of the octagon shaped structure, was trimmed in long spikes.

  Trapped inside its cruel confines, two males faced off. Sweat and blood dripping from their bodies, the pair, who both appeared to be exhausted and near death, continued to whale and bludgeon one another, pushed on by the chanting of the crowd. Taking note of the blocking bands encircling both their necks to prevent from shifting, Senka furrowed her brow at the hash marks on both men’s arms. Ignacio.

  Was this how he got his marks? Fighting in a cage like this one. The thought saddened her immensely as she continued to watch with each passing second as the men grew weaker. At the rate they were going, neither of them would be able to make it much longer. Suddenly, as if reading her mind, one of the men made one last charge at the other. Slamming full force into the weaker man’s body, he pushed him back and slammed him into the bars behind him, impaling him on one of the spikes. The crowd rose into a boisterous roar as the man fell to the floor, a lifeless corpse. Curling her lip up at the barbaric scene, Senka turned her attention to the bar behind her.

  The gorgeous dark wood structure stretched the entire length of the right wall. It’s high polished surface shined in the overall darkness of the club and was accentuated by the series of cathedral pendant lights that hung several feet apart over its smooth surface. Behind the bar, four thick columns constructed of the same heavy wood, supported immaculately organized glass shelves and proudly showcased one of the largest selections of alcohol Senka had ever laid eyes on. Gaping at the wide variety of colored bottles, she counted a dozen or more brews that she knew off hand were either banned or illegal within the borders of the Council’s territory.

  Man, I always wanted to try that. She mused fixing her gaze on a bright pink bottle labeled Siren’s Kiss. Rumor had it, one drink of that stuff and a woman could have even the most brutish of men on his knees begging to lick the dirt from her shoes. Smirking to herself, she considered flashing behind the bar and snatching the bottle when voices from behind her snagged her attention.

  “Vincent is upstairs in his private booth, follow me this way.”

  John’s voice, sounding much closer than she felt comfortable with, snapped Senka back to reality. Needing to get out of the way before they bumped into her, but also not able to advance into the crowd without being trampled by the men clambering over one another to watch the winner be marked, Senka turned her attention to the ceiling. Exposed steel beams ran the entire length of the room where it appeared someone had removed the second floor. />
  With no other visible options, she flashed onto the narrow width of the closest one, and tracked John and Duncan’s movements through the packed room. Heading toward a spiral staircase in the furthest corner of the room, they wound their way up the decorative metal staircase to a wide platform above. There a small group of men sat in high backed leather chairs, smoking cigars.

  Too far away to make out what they were saying over the deafening volume of the crowd below, Senka flashed across the beams and perched on the one nearest to the platform. From there she watched as Duncan and the others approached, while listening to the five men chat about another fight that had apparently taken place earlier that evening.

  “I’m tellin’ you it can’t be done.” A rotund man sporting thick framed glasses argued. Having removed his coat, he reached into the pocket of his button-up shirt and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe away the sweat beading on his brow. “There ain’t a man out there that can beat Josiah. That man is a beast the likes I ain’t ever seen.”

  Next to him, a dark skinned man with pointy ears and waist long white dreads nodded his head. “I agree. Given Josiah’s record, you would have to be a fool not to bet on him winning.”

  He’s Fae. Watching as the man inhaled deeply on his cigar, Senka struggled to suppress her rage as she took in the group a little more closely. Two of the men wore gloves on their hands, despite being indoors and it being hotter than hell inside this bar, making her certain they were both Seers. The fourth didn’t exhibit any distinctive features that would reveal his race, though it was more than clear by his smaller stature he wasn’t a Shifter. These assholes are the buyers.

  “I still haven’t figured out where you keep drumming up these idiots that get in the ring with him.” One of the Seers joined in.

  “I can be persuasive.”

  Swirling the amber liquid in his glass, the man sitting in the center of the group regarded the others with a wicked grin. Dressed in a solid black suit with a red tie, he had shoulder length ash blond hair and a pair of the most piercing blue eyes she had ever seen. Power and confidence wafted off his cold demeanor, leaving no doubt to anyone who neared him that he was in charge.