Page 178

Loren stayed put. She scanned the area: the cement walls, the stained countertops, the collection of fruit rotting in a bowl on the kitchen table, the glass equipment and obsidian pots that were used for cooking up Venom. It reeked in here, the unbearable stench of the drugs churning her stomach. It smelled like hot, bubbly tar.

Finally, the woman returned, offering up a small glass bottle, thick black liquid inside. Loren reached for the bottle—

The woman drew it back into the folds of her ratty sweater. With a baring of teeth riddled with cavities, she said, “A thousand gold mynet.”

Right. She almost forgot about this part. Good thing she had been saving her money lately. It certainly helped that Darien always insisted on paying for everything, no matter how small the cost, and no matter how much she begged him not to. He was always faster than she was when it came to getting his wallet out, and every employee, no matter the business, was more willing to accept the Darkslayer’s money than they were hers, lest they face his unspeakable wrath.

Quickly, she reached into a pocket in the thigh region of her bodysuit and pulled out a wad of bills.

The woman snatched the money from her, stuffed it into a fist, and shoved the eyedrops into Loren’s waiting hand. “You didn’t get it from me,” the woman said, her voice barely a mumble.

Loren left without another word, being careful not to thank the woman as if she were operating a clothing store.

The door pushed open easily, the bars rattling as she shut it behind her, sealing off the fetor of what the woman cooked inside her walls. If she was allowed to deal Venom, it was likely that she handed over a hefty percentage of her profits to the Butcher, the lead Blood Potions dealer in the state. No one was allowed to sell drugs on his turf, and only a fool would dare to do so, especially so close to the hub of his business.

A clap of thunder shook the city, the sound like two giant boulders cracking together.

She barely made it three feet down the sidewalk before rough hands were grabbing onto her, clamping over her mouth before she had a chance to scream.

39

“If this goes on for much longer,” Malakai said, mouth stretching into a wide yawn that showed all his teeth, “I might have to take a power nap.”

They were in Darien’s truck, a vehicle he seldom drove, which was why he’d opted to bring it to this part of town instead of his car. If this all went to shit, and Gaven’s men spotted them, there was less of a chance that someone would recognize his truck than they would his car.

They were in the outskirts of Black Alder, a seedy area in a seedy district overflowing with thieves, carjackers, demons, and gang members. Initially, Darien had wondered why Gaven would dare to keep a supply of his precious weapons in a place like this, but the longer he thought about it, the more it made sense. One more type of criminal activity added to a district that was already full to bursting with shady dealings, all of which the law enforcement couldn’t keep up with, was unlikely to draw attention. If they were to set up their stores in a high-end district instead, there was a greater chance that someone would report their activity to the MPU. Out here, demons roamed freely, the lack of lights allowing them to venture on main roads. What few lights did exist were mainly mercury vapor, the foggy green bulbs far too weak to classify as a safety measure. Only predators walked this ground, and predators were far less likely to report a crime than prey.

Darien blinked his burning eyes, keeping his gaze locked on the warehouse squatting on the road, just down the hill from where they were parked. Men guarded the perimeter of the building, three on all sides, all of them hellsehers, all of them armed to the teeth.

The watch on Darien’s wrist read one a.m. “Brodie said they switch out at one?”

Malakai nodded, eyelids drooping shut. His chin rested on scarred knuckles, elbow propped up on his door. “His words,” Malakai confirmed.

It was what he and Malakai were waiting for. The next watch shift that was set to arrive at one consisted of warlocks and vampires, all of which would be easier to deal with than the men currently prowling the premises. While Darien was always up for a challenge, it was better if they took the easier option this time, the one that guaranteed fewer errors. Vampires and warlocks would be far easier to manipulate mentally, should their plan to incapacitate the men before they could see their faces went awry. Hellsehers, on the other hand, were insusceptible to mind magic, a risk that simply wasn’t worth it for this.

Darien checked his watch again. “It’s two minutes past one now, and I don’t see any shift change.”

Malakai’s sharp inhalation, the sound almost a snort, told Darien he was half-asleep.

Darien smacked him in the shoulder, making him jolt. “Would you wake the fuck up?”

“I am awake,” he slurred. He sat up, knuckling his eyes, and cleared his throat. “How does your girl feel about you doing this?”

Darien stiffened. “She’s supportive enough,” he offered tightly.

“How’d you end up scoring her, anyway?” Malakai asked. “I didn’t know you had a thing for human girls.”

“I don’t,” Darien mumbled. “But I have a thing for her.”

“I don’t blame you, she’s got a tight little ass.”

Darien whipped his head around to face Malakai, nostrils flaring wide. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

Malakai’s shoulders shook with laughter. “What? It’s a compliment.”

“You’re forgetting my two rules.”

“I remember them perfectly,” Malakai grumbled.