Blood Deep (Blackthorn Book 4) (25 page)

To Eden’s good fortune, his eyes reflected his intentions – dark, grave, unnerving. They were laced with something that Pummel recognised, something he’d seen in the quietest and most unassuming of cons – the ones that kept themselves to themselves, ones that others left that way because they were just the wrong side of maniacal. It was those quiet ones to watch – the ones of few words like Eden was then.

Pummel resolved it could be worth loosening the leash a little, just to see what happened.

‘You make an assurance like that, Eden, you’d better be able to come up with the goods.’

‘I do this and I’m in,’ Eden stated, his expression reassuringly sombre.

Like that first night when he’d showed up, leaning against his lounge doorway, Pummel loved the arrogance in the kid, loved the balls of it.

Pummel stood up, much to the apparent disapproval emanating from Homer and Chemist who had clearly wanted the floorshow. ‘We’ll be right across the street.’ He glanced down at his watch again, ready to time him. ‘You’ve got yourself seventeen minutes.’

J
essie glanced
through the doorway into the lounge.

Tatum was sprawled out on the sofa, her legs stretched up onto the cushioned back, one crossed over the other, the satin sheen of her skin-tight trousers catching the weak light, one arm casually flopped on the table of drinks beside her. She was on her back, her head to the door, so she couldn’t see Jessie.

But Dice did. Dice who was sat in his usual seat. Pummel always left someone behind to keep an eye on the place. Tonight it was Dice.

He’d been mid-conversation, mid-laugh, when he’d looked across at her peering through the doorway. His eyes had always chilled her – the eyes of the killer that he was. He liked his victims young, he liked them female and, as his name dictated, he made a joke of choosing their fate by a roll of dots. Unfortunately his handsome, youthful features and bright blue eyes often lured them in.

He’d been there six years. He’d barely spoken to her. But he’d never needed to – his glances in her direction having spoken more than enough. And those looks had sickened her to the pit of her stomach.

She glanced towards the kitchen wondering if she should wait a bit longer, but knew Pummel and the others could be back at any time.

She padded silently down the hallway, leaving the door ajar behind her as she hurried across to the larder. She placed her key in the lock, turned the handle and slipped inside. Darkness crept into the small space as she closed the door behind her, lit only by the line of weak light beneath the door. She fell to her knees instantly, her hands trembling as she fiddled with the locks. One came off with relative ease, as did the second, but the third jammed at every opportunity.

Eventually it clicked free. She unhooked them all, keeping a hold on them as she carefully lifted the trapdoor. A cold and silent abyss leered back, revealing nothing but the top of the slatted, wooden steps.

She stepped onto the top one, hesitating a moment longer before descending the first few.

Closing the door behind her, the locks still clenched in her hand, she descended the rest.

Reaching the bottom step, she left the locks there as she gave her eyes a chance to adjust to night vision.

There was no movement, not a sound.

She stepped deeper into the room as darkness was replaced with the shadowed outlines of wire-mesh bed bases, discarded furniture and storage boxes. Bricked walls loomed behind, to her right and in front. Heading right, in the direction of the part she knew the stairs sat above, she passed through a knocked-through wall. And froze.

There was movement in the distance. A shuffle. She could hear breathing, and not just from one source.

Jessie stood perfectly still, staring ahead. Swallowing back her fear, she stepped around some crates to face the floor-to-ceiling cage.

She snatched back a breath, but she was no more startled than the nine pairs of glinting eyes that stared back from beyond the bars. The nine figures recoiled against the back wall as soon as they saw her.

Kids. Nothing more than kids.

Her heart raced as they huddled deeper into the corner, one bright-eyed little girl holding out her arms protectively against them as if forming a barrier from their intruder. She couldn’t have been more than eight years old and was nowhere near the biggest amongst them, but clearly she’d taken it upon herself to be their defender.

Jessie took another step closer. She stopped breathing.

The little girl was baring her teeth.

They weren’t just any kids – they were
lycan
kids.

T
he way Dom
had looked at his sister when Pummel had threatened the pending assault – the look in the boy’s eyes as some silent exchange passed between them – told Eden everything.

He’d been watching the dynamic the entire time – even during the assault – looking for clues, a way in. He’d been sussing out their strengths, their weaknesses. He’d waited until they’d become cornered, because that’s when true character outed itself. When Pummel had finally called him over, it had been a relief.

Left alone with the brother and sister, Eden claimed the chair Pummel had used. Only his focus wasn’t on Dom like Pummel’s had been; his was on Jem.

‘Here’s how it is,’ Eden said. ‘You think you know the outcome of this no matter what you do. Considering you’ve already worked out that the minute you confess, Pummel’s going to kill you both anyway, you’d rather take this than let him get what he wants. But what seems like an inevitable outcome can all change here, because there is now one thing standing between them and what can happen to you – and that’s me.’

Jem frowned, her eyes leaking with suspicion. ‘Is that so?’

Eden leaned forward a fraction to rest his arms on the table. ‘Your brother isn’t as resilient as you, is he? He would have broken by now
if
he knew where the stash is, especially to save you. But he
doesn’t
know where it is, does he?
You
do. And I bet you kept it from him for this very reason, didn’t you, Jem?’

She shifted in her seat slightly, her frown deepening.

‘You tell me where the stash is, and I guarantee no one will touch you,’ Eden added. ‘Or him. You can both walk out of this alive.’

She laughed, a pained laugh that struck him deep in the chest. ‘You expect me to believe that?’

‘I could have taken Pummel up on his offer. Instead, I decided to turn this to my advantage and, by doing that, I can turn it to yours. Despite that “fuck-you-all” attitude, there’s enough fire in your eyes to tell me you want to live through this. I wouldn’t be making the offer if I didn’t think you were smart enough to take it. Because you
are
smart, aren’t you, Jem?’

‘Too smart to believe anything that comes out of your mouth.’

He glanced down at his watch. ‘Twelve minutes. If you turn out to be stupid, all I do is lose face. Your brother there and, by the time I’m done, you too, will lose yours literally.’

Her gaze wavered on his. She swallowed a little too hard. ‘Sounds like you cornered yourself by making promises to Pummel that you can’t keep. He’s not going to like that.’

‘Eleven minutes. You work with me on this and I’ll owe you. That’s why I’ll make sure you both live.’

Her eyes remained narrow. ‘And I’ve got your word for that, have I,
con
?’

‘Yeah, you’ve got my word. I survive either way. The rest is up to you.’

‘And if I tell Pummel about your attempt at a deal?’

‘Without a tongue and fingers? Just how creative are you?’

‘Fucking just do it,’ Dom cut in. ‘Just do it, Jem.’

She stared down at the numbers on his arms. She looked back at him, her blue eyes wavering in contemplation. She glanced at her brother. A painful few seconds etched by. ‘And what?’ she asked, returning her attention to Eden. ‘You just walk away?’

‘Nine minutes. I want one thing and one thing only – give it to me and, yes, I’ll walk away.’

‘Or you get what you want, do what you want and we still die, leaving you the hero.’

‘That’s not going to happen.’

‘Jem,’ Dom said more impatiently. ‘Take his fucking offer,’ he said, spitting blood from his barely functional jaw.

Eden leaned back in his chair, his arms folded, legs spread, his gaze locked steadily on hers. ‘This is my nice side, Jem – make the most of it. You have only eight minutes left of it.’

‘Please,’ Dom said. ‘Jem,
please
.’

‘Listen to your brother, Jem. Give me the stash, and I walk. I’m not leaving without it.’

She glanced at the table then back into his eyes.

‘Less than seven minutes,’ Eden said. ‘I need at least six alone out of sight with you to convince our audience out there that this is genuine. I’m counting down.’

She exhaled tersely. ‘It’s in the back room,’ she said through gritted teeth.

‘Perfect,’ Eden said. He pushed back his chair and stood. ‘Lead the way.’

I
t was
hard to see past the reflections, but Pummel definitely saw movement inside. It looked as though Eden had moved to the back of the shop, Jem in his grasp.

Less than fifteen minutes later, just as he’d said he would, Eden elbowed his way out of the door with a heavy-looking sixty-by-forty-inch box. He crossed the street towards them, slamming it down onto the ground at Pummel’s feet.

Pummel flicked the lid off with his foot. Most of it was costume jewellery, some brass ornaments, a bit of glassware. The metal melted down could be useful but on the whole it was worthless junk sold to worthless scroungers who couldn’t tell the difference. It had barely been worth the effort.

Except that it showed Eden had stayed true to his word – again.

Pummel looked deep into his eyes, eyes that still didn’t waver. ‘Is she still alive?’

‘I don’t believe in unnecessary waste.’

He guessed Dom was still alive too. The opportunity was too tempting to ignore. Getting the stash was one thing; making sure Eden understood the gravity of their betrayal was another. This was the clincher. This was the point where Eden needed to walk away and finally quash Pummel’s stirring sense that there was still something about him that he couldn’t work out.

‘It’s not unnecessary,’ Pummel said. ‘It’s part of the job. Reputation is everything around here, Eden. Surely you understand that.’ He glanced at Homer and Chemist. ‘Kill them both.’

To his disappointment, Eden failed at the first hurdle. He sidestepped to block their way, his attention unflinching from Pummel. ‘That’s not going to happen.’

Homer’s chest puffed up at being blocked, his hands fisting by his sides, unimpressed by the new boy thinking he could call the shots.

Eden’s eyes met his with an impressive coolness.

‘You
really
rate yourself, don’t you?’ Homer said quietly.

Chemist spat his chewing gum out onto the pavement, willing to back his crew up however he needed to.

‘No,’ Eden replied. ‘I’ve just been in enough of these situations to know how nasty it can turn for the other guy.’

A full-blown, public fistfight was the last thing that was needed – as interesting as it would be to see who would come out on top. Pummel stepped forward to ease the tension. ‘You got what we wanted,’ Pummel declared to Eden. ‘You did good. But we clear up those loose ends. Their services aren’t required anymore.’

‘That’s not how I work,’ Eden said, his gaze steely.

‘It’s how
I
work and I shouldn’t need to remind you that you work
my
way.’

‘You gave the job to
me
. You handed it to me to manage, which is what I did. You got the outcome you wanted. If you take over now, you’re undermining me. And I don’t like being undermined. It makes me believe you don’t think I can do my job properly and I find that offensive. It isn’t about them anymore – this is about us. This is about you taking me seriously enough for me to believe we can work together; it’s about how I see our working relationship from here on. I told you: I want in. I want more jobs like this. For you it’ll be lucrative and time-efficient, not least because of minimal manpower. And, as far as your reputation in this place goes, you’ll be seen as having employees who don’t need to move in clusters. We both know what a message like that can mean – and it can start here and now.’

The kid was becoming more arrogant by the hour, but everything that came out of his smart mouth made sense. It made
more
than sense – it appealed directly to the calculated, top-of-the-food-chain side of Pummel, a side that found the potential of what he was saying irresistible.

For now.

‘We’re done here,’ Pummel said to the others, despite Homer’s curt inhale of protest. He looked back at Eden. ‘Like I said, you did good tonight.
Real
good.’

No less because he needed brains and not just brawn out there. Eden was clearly an intensely valuable mix of both, his full potential still undoubtedly untapped in such a short space of time.

Chemist slapped Eden on the back, guiding him away moments later.

Eden sent one more glance over his shoulder, first at Pummel, then at Homer, with eyes that remained unreadable.

Pummel held back, Homer taking the hint to do the same.

‘I don’t trust him,’ Homer said as soon as they were out of earshot.

‘Nor do I,’ Pummel remarked. ‘Which is why I’d rather keep him close.’

‘Why do I get the feeling this is about more than that?’

‘You saw what he brought back from that list. He’s got contacts. Good contacts. And he’s smooth – real smooth.’

‘Are you saying what I think you are?’

‘He could be useful, Homer.’

‘If you want to let anyone in on that, it needs to be Chemist and Dice first. Not some new boy.’

‘I’m not talking about telling him. Not yet. But distributing those pups out is going to take the right kind of specialist skills. Those lycan dogs get one whiff of their scent, and we’re all dead.’

‘Which is why he needs to stay out of it.’

‘Maybe. Or maybe we’ve struck gold with him. I need to think whilst we give him a few hours off for now. After tonight, he’s earned that much.’