Indulgence (8 page)

“You think she knows where the trigger is?”

Ugly had edged too close for comfort and I jabbed the barrel
into his chest. “Try me, fuck stain. Get the fuck out or get blown to pieces. I
don’t give a shit which one happens.”

Ugly lifted his hand and grabbed the barrel and twisted the
gun from my grasp before I could press the trigger.

“Smart mouthed little whore,” he spat striking the butt of
the shotgun into my stomach.

Pain shot through my body and I doubled over, gasping for
breath. I was fucked. Weiss wasn’t here. Weiss…

“Look guys, she’s bending over to suck cock already.”

With a cry, I lunged, punching Ugly right in the balls. He
doubled over with a grunt, clutching his filthy cock as the other man scrambled
to cross the bar. The outside door banged open and things started to get hazy
after that.

The sound of a gunshot in close quarters rang out, making my
ears ring. Strong arms clamped around me as I stumbled, but it wasn’t the arms
I was hoping to fall into. Ugly held me against his fat chest, sticking his
cock against my ass.

My gaze settled on the carnage behind me and that’s when I
realized that the other four men were down. The dead kind of down.

Weiss stood in the middle of the pub, his arm raised, a gun
in his hand. He looked pissed as all hell, but I was more surprised to see X
standing beside him. X, who didn’t seem to care about anything.

“Let her go,” he said, his voice all muffled.

My hearing was still fucked up, my stomach aching something
fierce. Ugly was going to take me hostage, right? This was how these things
worked. They’d come for me and he’d do anything to get me out of here and into
the hands of the one person who could never have me.

“No fuckin’ way,” Ugly drawled. “I’m taking her out of here.
You try anything and I’ll slit her pretty bitch throat.”

Steel pressed against my skin and my gaze snapped to X’s.
His eyes were vacant. He didn’t care.

I guess I was dead then. I wouldn’t get my chance to-

X sprang into life, flicking a knife from his palm like a
fucking ninja. The blade flew through the air and I gasped, unable to get the
scream that had been welling in my throat to pass my lips. It was going to hit
me. I was going to die. I wasn’t ready. I had to-

There was a dull
thunk
as the blade imbedded into
flesh and bone and I stood, shaking as Ugly’s grasp slackened. There was
another thud as he fell to the floor behind me, leaving me standing there in
shock.

What the fuck just happened?

X-

My gaze flew to X’s.

“Are you alright?” Weiss asked coming round the bar.

He circled his arms around me, but I was still in X’s
trance. His gaze narrowed as Weiss pulled me against his chest.

“C’mon,” he murmured. “I’ll take you out back.”

“Is he dead?” I asked.

“They’re all dead.”

Blood. Splattered on the walls, congealed. I was back in the
house, the cream carpet stained. Splatters on the wall. I was late and I should
be dead too. He’d gotten Ugly right between the eyes. Bam.

“Mercy?”

I blinked hard and Weiss came back into focus.

“Give her something strong,” I heard X say. “I’ll take care
of the trash.”

Weiss led me into his office and I followed like a lamb to
the slaughter. He sat me on the sofa and shucked off his leather jacket,
draping it around my shoulders. Reaching above the filing cabinet, he picked up
a bottle of brown spirits. Handing me a glass, he screwed off the cap and
poured some liquor into it.

“Drink up,” he said, gesturing to the booze. “It’ll warm you
up and calm you down.”

Grunting, I raised the glass to my lips, the alcohol quaking
in my trembling hands. Sipping, I gasped slightly as it burned a trail right
down into my guts. It was scotch. Tasted fancy, too.

“How did he do that?” I asked, the liquor warming me from
the inside out.

“Do what?”

“I thought I was…I thought he was going to get me right between
the eyes.”

Weiss rubbed his chin, going for his cigarettes then putting
them back into his pocket, thinking better of it. “X is a lot of things,” he
said, “but a shit shot isn’t one of them.”

“Why-”

“They were Necromancers,” Weiss said. “Royal Blood and
them…well, we’ve never gotten along.”

“You never thought to tell me?” I never knew they had a foot
hold in this part of town. If I did, I’d never have come close.

“Sorry, love. Sorry we weren’t here.”

I shrugged. “No use giving a shit about it now. You’ve got
five dead bodies in your pub.”

“Mercy,” Weiss said, sitting beside me. “We would’ve killed
them regardless.”

I stared at him, not believing what I was hearing. “What?
You just kill people you don’t like?”

“It’s the way we do things,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“An eye for an eye.”

“But they wouldn’t of killed me, they said-”

Weiss straightened up, his expression turning serious. “What
did they say?”

“They said they’d been sent to rough me up as a message.
They mentioned some guy named Sykes.” I knew who Sykes was, but everyone did.
Sykes was the meanest son of a bitch out there.

“Stay here,” Weiss commanded and shoved the door open and
disappeared out into the pub.

“Glad to,” I drawled, waving the glass of scotch at the
closed door.

Shivering, I clutched the glass in my hands like it'd warm
the chill from the shock that had settled into my bones. I needed to get a
grip.

The door opened abruptly and I jumped. X stepped in and
closed the door behind him softly.

“I didn't think you gave a crap,” I said.

“Should I have kept my knife in my pocket?” he asked,
perching on the edge of the desk.

“They came for me,” I said, hugging Weiss’ jacket around me.

X just sat there, a nothing look on his face. “They won’t
bother you again.”

“Because they’re dead,” I exclaimed.

He stared at me like I was a raving lunatic.

“You’re not going to say anything?” I asked. “Not after-”

“I don’t owe you anything.”

I ground my teeth together, trying to keep my smart mouth in
check. The only thing he owed me was an explanation, but all I got was a
mystery. A bad news kinda mystery.

I reached for the bottle of scotch and unscrewed the cap.

“That’s Weiss’ secret stash,” X said as I downed a mouthful.

“Who gives a fuck?” I downed another, the liquor burning
right down my gullet and into my guts. It chased away the images of blood. Dead
bodies everywhere. X had to be some kind of…

He shifted from the desk we’d so unashamedly fucked on and
sat next to me on the sofa. I wanted to lean against him, to feel his arm
around me, but I was smart enough to know I wasn’t getting any comfort from X.
Not now. Not ever.

“You had to know that by working here, working for Royal
Blood, that you’d have to deal with this shit, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” I fucking knew, but I was a target. I just
worked the fucking bar, I knew shit all about what Royal Blood got up to. That
meant they were trying to get to someone through me. It had to be either Weiss
or X.

I stared at X. He was the prime suspect because Weiss was a
desk jockey. A numbers man.

He shrugged. “Didn’t mean it.”

“Asshole,” I shrieked. “You- I should never of let you stick
your finger up my ass.”

“
Mercy
.”

“Fuck you, X.”

“If they touch you again. If they even look at you…” He
hesitated, his eyes flashing with something… “I will kill them. You hear me? I
will kill them.”

Fear started to replace anger and I leaned backward. All I
could do was nod, because seriously? X wasn’t fucking around. He didn’t even
seem to care that he’d killed a bunch of Necromancers. He seemed to
enjoy
it.

Weiss was right. I should stay away from him…but it was far
too late for that.

If I could trust X, if he said he would do these things for
me, could I ask him to…? No. No, I couldn’t. But maybe he could help me. I had
to trust him first and trust was hard to come by.

X stood, flicking up the collar on his leather jacket. “I
have some things to do,” he said, his voice returning to its usual bland
monotone. The tone he used when he was being secretive. “Weiss will look after
you and make sure you get home.”

He went to leave the office, but I called out, “X?”

He turned back, glancing down at me.

“Are you coming back?”

A tiny hint of a smile curled his lips and he nodded.
“Soon.”

X

I was supposed to say I was sorry. That’s what I knew I was
meant to do, but I didn’t feel sorry…did I?

Remorse. That was a fucking bad thing to feel when you were
a contract killer.

Sykes was sending me a message. Stick to the job, no fucking
around. By lingering at The Gambler's Inn, by fixating on Mercy, I'd made her a
target. Those Necromancer fucks stupidly thought I cared. Mercy was just a
fuck.

If I kept telling myself that, then maybe I'd believe it.
Mercy was just a fuck.

An image of her underneath me, writhing in pleasure as I
fucked her in her bed, splintered into my mind's eye. Delight. What kind of
fucked up thing was that?

I stared at my apartment wall, sinking back into the sofa. I
had to get back in the game. Killing was what this was about, after all.
Killing Alison Crawford. I hadn’t even put all the pieces together and I was
almost certain it’d been her and so were the Necromancers. What I needed was a
lead to her whereabouts and the rest would follow.

Blood. Make her deader than dead. Cross her out.

Freedom from Royal Blood was inching closer. I needed it. I
needed my life to be programmed to something else.

The wall was plastered with photos, newspaper articles,
drawings and the entire contents of the envelope. It was the wall of a madman
plotting murder, crossed with lines and marks, important pieces of information
highlighted. Macabre crime scene photos pinned to the plaster.

I had to pay her home town a visit. There was no way I was
picking up any trail by sitting here burying myself balls deep in Mercy’s
pussy.

Seeing her in that Necromancer’s ugly fucking arms, a knife
pressed to her throat…my blood seared with something I didn’t understand. I
understood a lot of things, but my ability to feel emotions had been cut from
my body and soul a long time ago. They’d been flayed from me...bled dry.

What I’d become and what I was becoming were two different
things. It was Mercy Reid’s fault. She’d done something to me. She’d-

The phone rang, vibrating across the coffee table. Seeing it
was a blocked number, I let it ring for a while before I deigned to lean
forward and pick it up. No guesses who was on the other end.

Lifting it to my ear, I stared at the photograph of Alison
Crawford as Sykes barked his displeasure at me, not even waiting for me to
answer.

“You killed five of my men,” he roared.

“And I’d do it again,” I said, not even taking my eyes off
the photo. “You went back on our terms. A truce between our clubs until this
matter is settled. You sent five thugs into our bar, Sykes. Five men on one
woman with the order to do whatever they pleased to send a message.”

There was a crash in the background.

“Greggor has been notified,” I went on. “I’m sure he will
have something to say about the incident.”

“As long as you play your part, pretty boy, then we won’t
have any more issues.”

“As long as you stay away from the girl, we have a deal.”

“I thought you didn’t feel anything,” Sykes said. “Word has
it you’re an emotionless bastard. Seems like you care about something.”

“Do not presume to know anything about me, Sykes.”

“The cold and calculating killer, Xavier Blood, brought to his
knees by a
woman
.”

“She belongs to Royal Blood,” I snarled. “You mess with our
women, I don’t give a shit who you are, I will deal with you.”

Sykes started to laugh. “You’re not serious are you? You’re
trying to put this on Royal Blood?”

I didn’t know who his informant was, but they’d seen way too
much. I’d been careless.

“When we find your rat Sykes, I’ll be glad to put a bullet
in their head myself.”

“Good luck with that,” he drawled.

I tightened my grip around my phone, trying to keep my rage
down to a slow simmer. “Do not threaten me, Sykes. You don’t want to find out
what happens when you cross me.” Seemed like I was losing my grip on a lot of
things lately.

There was silence on the other end of the line before he
cleared his throat. “You’ve just made a powerful enemy, X.”

“Lucky me.”

“If you fail, I won’t just shoot you. I’ll enjoy hearing you
scream as I bleed you dry.”

The line went dead. Charming.

The Necromancers would be watching Mercy now from dawn till
dusk. If I didn’t follow through, they’d take her. They’d take her, imprison
her in their fucked up world, and beat and rape her to get back at me. But, I
didn’t care right?

Mercy would be collateral damage if I failed.

I never failed.

*****

Alison Crawford had a rich mummy and daddy and grew up in a
small community just outside of the city. She graduated with honors from a
well-to-do private school before going on to study Art History at one of the
best Universities in the country. She’d just come home from her final exams to
visit her parents when she found them and her deadshit of a brother dead in
their home.

I pulled the car up into a space on the main street and
turned the ignition off. The engine clicked as it cooled and I scanned the shop
fronts on either side of the road.

Alison worked her summer and winter breaks at the teahouse a
few doors down. One thing that Necromancers were terrible at was staying
inconspicuous. You go asking questions in your leathers, or send in the brawn
to do the delicate work and everything falls apart. No, they needed to send the
pretty boy killer, dress him up in a nice looking suit and send him to talk to
the target’s friends at her old workplace.