Deathtrap (Crossbreed Series Book 3)(41)
Silence filled the room. Shepherd was right. You couldn’t punish a man for what he might do. Had Viktor pulled a stunt like that with me, I would have been tempted to quit. On the flip side, I understood Viktor’s reservations, but maybe they should have discussed it beforehand.
I felt Christian come up behind me. How I knew it was him, I couldn’t say.
Viktor clasped his hands behind his back, eyes locked on Shepherd. “You say you know where to find Cristo. Do you want to tell me how it is you came across new information when not even our computer genius could find anything?”
Shepherd squared his shoulders. “I can’t say. Are you with me? I’m leaving tonight. This might be the only opportunity we have.”
“He’s right,” Wyatt said, swiveling in his chair. “Nothing’s come up on the auction. I’ve done some preliminary searches on his name, but we don’t have any leads.”
Shepherd widened his stance. “Are we a team or not?”
Viktor rested his hands on Shepherd’s shoulders, his expression somber. “You have placed more trust in me than I have in you. It shouldn’t be that way. I apologize for excluding you on such an important mission.”
Shepherd averted his gaze. “I know why you did it. I just… I need you to have my back and let me have yours. Deal?”
Viktor searched the walls for a clock. “How much time do we have?”
Shepherd pinched his chin. “We should leave within the hour.”
“I need weapons,” I said.
Shepherd jerked his chin toward the door. “Come with me.”
We walked at a brisk pace down to the first level. Usually we rotated the job of lighting certain candles down the main hallways, but with everything going on, some of the halls were pitch-black.
“Claude can’t go. Not in his condition,” Shepherd said as he pushed open his bedroom door. He struck a match and lit a bright lantern. “Hold this.”
“Claude’s not going to like us leaving him behind.”
“Yeah, but he’ll understand. He’s injured, and we don’t put an injured man in danger. It puts not only him at risk, but everyone else, including his partner. He’s also dead asleep thanks to pain meds.” Shepherd strode up to his armoire, and when he opened it, my jaw dropped.
“Holy shit.”
He looked over his shoulder at me and essayed a smile. “What do you think armoires were originally used for?”
Shepherd’s cabinet was filled to the brim with weapons. There were mounts on the inside of the doors holding all kinds of daggers and knives. I gaped at the guns, impalement stakes, and even a crossbow. He pulled open the bottom drawers, revealing boxes of bullets and miscellaneous weapons such as throwing stars and concealable spikes.
He stepped aside. “Pick your poison.”
“Do you have something I could strap to my arm beneath a long-sleeved shirt? I want to hide my daggers where I can reach them. The leg harness I have is fine for when I’m wearing dresses, but that’s not often.”
He reached inside and handed me a few. “Try these. The blades are sharpened.”
I gave him the lantern and secured one of the straps on my arm.
“Those are fine if you’re not trying to bulk up,” he said. “But they’re not comfortable. You might think about one of these.” Shepherd held up a larger harness with a sheath. “This one hooks around your shoulders, so you can wear it beneath a button-up or jacket. No one will know.”
I looked at the large blade hanging from it. “That one’s too big for me.”
He nodded. “You like the push daggers and small blades. Nothing wrong with that. They get the job done just fine, especially if they’re stunners.” He handed me three small daggers and two arm straps. “On the house. Next time you run low, I charge a fee. These are some of the best weapons money can buy. Some are mine, others are for the team. So don’t get it in your head to help yourself.”
“Thanks.” I stepped forward, my voice low. “Did Mr. Bane give you the information? Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. I got to thinking that maybe he offered you some kind of favor for saving his kid.”
“We’re even now.” Shepherd closed the cabinet drawers and turned to face me. “That’s why I need to make this count.”
“If Viktor wants to take him in alive, are you going to be able to do that?”
The lantern flickered against his strict features. “I can’t make any promises.”
Chapter 21
I poked my finger in a bullet hole on the van wall. “Well, at least we can see outside now.”
Christian glared down at my tank top and button-up shirt. “Where the feck’s your coat?”
“It’s restricting.”
“Like the bra?”
I smiled. “You noticed. Where’s your coat?”
He pinched his tight T-shirt and gave me a smug look. “It’s restricting,” he parroted. “Wouldn’t want to deny the ladies a glimpse of my chiseled pectorals.”
“Exactly what ladies are we talking about?” I gripped the bench when we hit another bump.
He winked. “The ones I’ll be seeing after we finish the job. A man needs to unwind.”
“A man also needs to trim his nose hairs.”
I stifled a laugh when Christian leaned away and subtly pinched his nose. He didn’t have any nose hairs that I’d noticed, but nothing pleased me more than pointing out his arrogance by means of finding his insecurities. Our verbal banter had become a form of stress relief, and neither of us ever took it personally.
“Turn that shit off,” Shepherd growled toward the front of the van.
Viktor was driving, but Wyatt had dominion over the radio.
“Don’t start,” Wyatt said. “You know how I feel about Air Supply.”
Shepherd rolled his eyes to the chorus of “Making Love Out of Nothing at All.”
“You’ll get along famously with the man we’re hunting,” I said. “He loves eighties music.”
“I didn’t say I liked eighties music,” Wyatt countered, leaning around his seat. “Air Supply just speaks to my soul.”
“Your soul is dead,” Shepherd grumbled.
“Lay off. That’s the year I got my first computer. It’s nostalgic.”
I laughed. “How old are you again?”
Shepherd folded his arms. “He lost his virginity to ‘Oh! Susanna.’”
Everyone snickered.
Wyatt stared daggers at him. “Whatever, Dirty Harry. And I wasn’t that old when I lost it.”
“Why is he here?” I whispered to Christian. “I thought Viktor didn’t want him coming on dangerous missions.”
“We’ll need someone in the driver’s seat in case we need to make a quick escape. Wyatt’s also the liaison who’ll contact the Regulators, and that’ll depend on what we find.”
Shepherd relaxed his posture on the opposite bench, just as cool as a cucumber. Niko possessed a look I’d seen many times in the training room when he was getting into his zone, and Gem was sandwiched between them. I glanced at Blue on my left, who was sending a text message to Claude. He replied back telling her to make sure we females were careful, and that made me chuckle.
Niko drew his hood over his head. “We have a good chance of succeeding. Cristo paid men on the street to take you down. I suspect he operates alone.”
“He also likes bombs,” I mentioned.
Shepherd crushed his cigarette beneath his boot. “She’s right. If he doesn’t have anyone there protecting him, he might have laid out some traps. Keep your eyes open. And Gem, stay inside the van. Not on top of it.”
She launched to her feet. “Stay in the van. Stay in the van. You didn’t witness my epic fireworks show earlier. And you shouldn’t put your cigarettes out on the carpet!”
“We’re going to have to replace the whole damn thing anyhow,” he retorted.
“Well, it’s a filthy habit and—”
The van shuddered when we hit a bump. Gem fell forward, and Niko swiftly caught her with one arm.
“Careful, braveheart. We need you in one piece.” He turned and sat her down in his place before moving up front to speak with Viktor.
“Why am I even here?” she asked herself. “To babysit Wyatt?”
Gem didn’t seem to like going on jobs that involved crime scenes and dead bodies, but I found it interesting that she was eager to partake in a raid.
“You are here as protection,” Viktor answered from the front. “If he escapes to the street, we need you to track him. You are our eyes and ears.”
Gem crossed her legs, satisfied with that responsibility, but I could see she was still on a high after helping us with her energy balls. I surmised that Gem didn’t get to practice her wielding ability too often, so I understood the danger if one of us was standing in the line of fire. That made me nervous, especially after seeing how charred those men had been. But having her topside wasn’t a bad idea in case Cristo tried to escape. Given his track record, I wouldn’t put it past him.
The van finally stopped, and the engine turned off, but the music kept playing—probably to block out some of the conversation still going on up front. Blue scooted all the way down to the rear doors.