ended up in Finnegan’s lap. He never made a sound.
Shortie was more observant. Faster, too. He managed to get a gun out from under his suit jacket. But I crossed the room in quick steps and knocked the weapon away before he could bring it up. Shortie swung at me, but I ducked his wide blow, came up inside his meager defense, and plunged the second knife into his heart. He spasmed against me, whimpering and struggling to get free, even as his blood coated my hand.
“You really should have listened to Finn,” I hissed in his face, forcing the weapon deeper into his chest.
He died with a sputter.
Shortie slackened against me, and I shoved him away. The body thumped onto the floor. Lovely sound.
“It’s about time you got here.” Finn’s voice came out in a low, pain-filled rasp.
I pulled the knife out of Shortie, then yanked the other one out of Tall Guy’s eye. I used the bloody weapons to slice through Finn’s bonds, then shoved the giant’s body off him.
“And the man outside? Or do I even have to ask?” Finn said.
I looked at him.
“Right. Dumb question.”
I stared at the bodies on the floor. Blood oozed out of their wounds, ruining the pristine white of the fluffy shag carpet. Still more gobs of blood covered me, as though a bucket of paint had been upended over my head.
But all I could see was Fletcher’s body, beaten and flayed and tortured inside the Pork Pit. Broken and dead. My eyes flicked to Finn. His handsome face, reduced to mushy pulp. I didn’t often feel rage, but a cold, hard knot of it pulsed in my chest, right where my heart would be.
My thumb traced over the hilt of my knife. Too quick. This had all been too damn quick. These men hadn’t suffered like Fletcher had. They’d barely felt a thing. A ribbon of fire, the world fading away, and they were gone. Easy. Fast. Relatively painless.
The knot of rage in my chest twitched, and I wanted to leap onto the guards’ bodies, to hack and slash and mutilate them until no one would be sure what part was which or went with whom. To send a message to their boss, just the way she’d sent one to me by brutalizing Fletcher.
But Finn was hurt and needed a healer. Besides, something could always go wrong. I’d had enough adrenaline for this, but now I could feel the crash coming. My hands and legs twitched from fatigue, stress, overuse. And I still felt cold and clammy from my swan dive into the icy river.
Revenge, justice, retribution, karma, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, could wait. Keeping Finn safe and breathing, that was my priority now. My mission. That’s what Fletcher would have asked me to do.
For once in my life, I was going to do exactly what the old man wanted.
8
I turned my back on the bodies. Finn lowered himself to his hands and knees, rifling through the dead men’s pockets, pulling out their wallets and cell phones. He also ripped off their watches and a gold chain from Shortie’s neck. Finn started to open one of the wallets, but I took it away from him.
“Later,” I said. “We need to get you over to Jo-Jo’s. You look like shit warmed over.”
Finn grimaced. “That bad, huh?”
“Trust me. You don’t want to look in the mirror right now. Your ego couldn’t take it.”
Finn snorted. “Please. My ego can take anything.” He jerked his head at the bodies. “What about them?”
“Sophia, of course. You know how she loves this sort of work.” I picked up the cordless phone resting on a table and hit the number 7. Like me, Finn had the dwarf programmed into his speed dial. The phone rang twice before she picked up.
“Hmph?” The low grunt was Sophia Deveraux’s usual greeting. The dwarf wasn’t big on conversation.
“It’s Gin,” I said. “I’ve made a mess over at Finn’s apartment. Need you to come clean it up.”
“Hmm.” A little more interest in this grunt than the first one.
“Two inside, one before you get to the elevator. Small, medium, and large.” Our code for
Shortie was more observant. Faster, too. He managed to get a gun out from under his suit jacket. But I crossed the room in quick steps and knocked the weapon away before he could bring it up. Shortie swung at me, but I ducked his wide blow, came up inside his meager defense, and plunged the second knife into his heart. He spasmed against me, whimpering and struggling to get free, even as his blood coated my hand.
“You really should have listened to Finn,” I hissed in his face, forcing the weapon deeper into his chest.
He died with a sputter.
Shortie slackened against me, and I shoved him away. The body thumped onto the floor. Lovely sound.
“It’s about time you got here.” Finn’s voice came out in a low, pain-filled rasp.
I pulled the knife out of Shortie, then yanked the other one out of Tall Guy’s eye. I used the bloody weapons to slice through Finn’s bonds, then shoved the giant’s body off him.
“And the man outside? Or do I even have to ask?” Finn said.
I looked at him.
“Right. Dumb question.”
I stared at the bodies on the floor. Blood oozed out of their wounds, ruining the pristine white of the fluffy shag carpet. Still more gobs of blood covered me, as though a bucket of paint had been upended over my head.
But all I could see was Fletcher’s body, beaten and flayed and tortured inside the Pork Pit. Broken and dead. My eyes flicked to Finn. His handsome face, reduced to mushy pulp. I didn’t often feel rage, but a cold, hard knot of it pulsed in my chest, right where my heart would be.
My thumb traced over the hilt of my knife. Too quick. This had all been too damn quick. These men hadn’t suffered like Fletcher had. They’d barely felt a thing. A ribbon of fire, the world fading away, and they were gone. Easy. Fast. Relatively painless.
The knot of rage in my chest twitched, and I wanted to leap onto the guards’ bodies, to hack and slash and mutilate them until no one would be sure what part was which or went with whom. To send a message to their boss, just the way she’d sent one to me by brutalizing Fletcher.
But Finn was hurt and needed a healer. Besides, something could always go wrong. I’d had enough adrenaline for this, but now I could feel the crash coming. My hands and legs twitched from fatigue, stress, overuse. And I still felt cold and clammy from my swan dive into the icy river.
Revenge, justice, retribution, karma, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, could wait. Keeping Finn safe and breathing, that was my priority now. My mission. That’s what Fletcher would have asked me to do.
For once in my life, I was going to do exactly what the old man wanted.
8
I turned my back on the bodies. Finn lowered himself to his hands and knees, rifling through the dead men’s pockets, pulling out their wallets and cell phones. He also ripped off their watches and a gold chain from Shortie’s neck. Finn started to open one of the wallets, but I took it away from him.
“Later,” I said. “We need to get you over to Jo-Jo’s. You look like shit warmed over.”
Finn grimaced. “That bad, huh?”
“Trust me. You don’t want to look in the mirror right now. Your ego couldn’t take it.”
Finn snorted. “Please. My ego can take anything.” He jerked his head at the bodies. “What about them?”
“Sophia, of course. You know how she loves this sort of work.” I picked up the cordless phone resting on a table and hit the number 7. Like me, Finn had the dwarf programmed into his speed dial. The phone rang twice before she picked up.
“Hmph?” The low grunt was Sophia Deveraux’s usual greeting. The dwarf wasn’t big on conversation.
“It’s Gin,” I said. “I’ve made a mess over at Finn’s apartment. Need you to come clean it up.”
“Hmm.” A little more interest in this grunt than the first one.
“Two inside, one before you get to the elevator. Small, medium, and large.” Our code for
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