Page 5 of Blade

Satisfaction blossomed and unfurled in my chest as bright red now soaked the front of his torso. I could feel my pulse thrumming as the scent filled my nostrils.

Strategically placing the tip of my weapon between his ribs again, I slowly drove it in. His shrieks were music to my ears and the corners of my mouth kicked up. My phone rang, but I ignored it.

He was now desperately trying to breathe, but the holes in his right lung were making that extremely difficult. And he’d fucking pissed himself again. My lip curled in disgust.

“Blade,” Gator called out from where he had been observing in the corner.

I glanced over my shoulder.

“You need to wrap this up,” he calmly urged as he pointed at his phone screen.

“Pity,” I replied with a sigh as I moved to stand behind him.

Then, with a flick of my wrist, I sliced one of his carotid arteries. “You fucked up when you took Eliska,” I whispered as I stood back and out of the reach of the steady spurt of crimson.

His eyes widened and he thrashed. I assumed he was trying to free a hand to slap over the life-draining wound he was now sporting. It gave me immense satisfaction in knowing he wouldn’t be leaving that shack alive.

“See you in hell, Zeke,” I cheerily called out as I walked away and out the door.

The bright light of day was blinding as I exited the shack, Gator on my heels. I rinsed the splatter from my arms as he climbed on the quad he’d ridden.

“Raptor wants us in church pronto.”

My brow pinched in the center. “Did something happen?”

“Not sure. Let’s move,” he said as he started the engine.

I followed suit, and we made our way across the property and up to the clubhouse. We parked the quads under the awning that ran along the back of the building and headed inside. I followed Gator back to the chapel.

At first, my stomach sank when I saw everyone was already present at the table. Then I breathed a sigh of relief when I reminded myself this was an impromptu session. Raptor had carried the last-one-into-church-cleaned-the-shitters rule from Iowa, but that only applied to monthly scheduled church here.

I didn’t like the troubled expression on Raptor’s face.

Everyone sat quietly as we waited for our president to speak.

“Now that we’re all here,” he began and pointedly look my direction.

All I could do was give him a sheepish grin.

“Venom reached out to me and asked for a favor,” he announced. My brows drew down. Venom rarely asked for favors.

No one made a sound. Everyone waited quietly.

Eerily so.

“What kind of favor?” Gator finally asked.

“He asked us to store a collectible art piece they had acquired that they needed out of the area for a bit.” Raptor was rapidly tapping his fingertips on the table.

“Why would he send a piece of art to us? Surely, he has somewhere closer he could stash it until the heat blows over,” Torque muttered.

Raptor’s gaze lifted and locked on Torque. “It’s not a piece of art. That was our code years ago for a person.”

“He needs to send someone down for protection?” Gator cocked his head in question. “Why wouldn’t he just say that?”

“I’m not sure,” Raptor replied.

“Do we have any idea who it is?” Phoenix asked before I could.