Page 44 of Stroke of Shadows
“Come near me,” Rae said with an eerie calmness, “and I’ll cut your fucking dick off.”
‘Calm the fuck down, dude,’ Sythe said, connecting mentally to his brother. ‘You’re going to mess everything up.’ It was a risk to speak to him that way, but he couldn’t chance Titus ruining everything because he clearly had a thing for the fucking sister.
“She’ll do anything you ask,” Miles said, holding his hands out in surrender. “Won’t you, Rae?”
Titus clenched his fist, not looking at Sythe at all as he concentrated on Rae. He’d moved slightly, angling his larger body to protect hers.
Fucking Fates.
“Fuck you, Miles!” she hissed.
Sythe chuckled, continuing his character. “As amusing as this is, we still haven’t seen any Ravyns.”
“I don’t have that sort of money!” Rae let out a frustrated sound.
“How much to keep you off his back?” Titus finally said, his voice a gentle rumble despite the rage vibrating the air.
Sythe’s expression hardened. “Angel wants all of it.”
“And I’ll get you all of it,” Ti growled. “So how much to get you off his back until we find that sort of money?”
Sythe cocked his head, looking towards Wyatt with a raised brow. He wasn’t allowed to make those decisions; he was just the enforcer.
“We’ll take half now,” Wyatt decided. “Half tomorrow.”
“We don’t have—” Rae began.
“Three days,” Titus interrupted. “Half now, and the other half in seventy-two hours.”
‘What are you doing?’ Sythe asked, keeping his face relaxed, giving no indication they were communicating. ‘He’s a piece of shit. We caught him beating a woman unconscious.’
‘This isn’t for him,’ Titus replied the same way, his eyes flashing when they met his for the briefest second. ‘Take the deal, Sy.’
Sythe grit his teeth. “How can we trust you?” he said aloud. “I don’t know you from Adam.”
“You haven’t got much choice, have you?” Titus reached into his back pocket, pulling out Ravyns. “Twenty-five now, another twenty-five in seventy-two hours. You either take the deal, or you don’t get anything.”
“Twenty-five now, thirty in seventy-two hours just for the inconvenience of us having to wait.” Wyatt held out his hand, his smile lewd. “Maybe next time, beautiful. I’m sure you’d be a decent ride.”
Titus clenched his jaw, but didn’t make any aggressive moves.
“You’ll get your money.” Miles visibly sagged, his chin dropping towards his chest in relief.
“We know,” Sythe agreed. “Otherwise, you’ll be dead.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll send Angel your regards.” Wyatt dismissed them, studying the Ravyns in his palm. “May the Light guide you.”
Miles bowed his head. “And give sanctuary from the darkness.”
Sythe hid his snigger, his eyes tracking the piece of shit out of the room with a sense of satisfaction. Miles deserved everything the Fates gave him, and if Sythe believed in the three sisters his Breed revered–which he didn’t–he’d think the Fates had brought Titus to remind him why he was there.
Vengeance.
Honour.
Fucking duty.
No one could do what he could, and for that, he had to make sacrifices.