Page 11

I parked blocks away, killed the engine, and sat for a moment, letting the silence settle. My spiders had given me enough: three guys, mid-20s, small-time hackers with big egos. They’d hit a few local businesses before, nothing major, butthis was their boldest play yet. They weren’t masterminds, just greedy, sloppy, and dumb enough to think they could get away with it. Easy prey.
I grabbed my bag and slipped out of the SUV, moving through the shadows like I was born to them. Dominion Hall had taught me that—how to be a ghost, how to hunt without being seen. My brothers and I weren’t just rich assholes playing at power. We were forged in blood and betrayal, built to protect what was ours. And Vivi … she wasn’t mine, not yet, but the demon didn’t care about technicalities. It wanted her safe, and it would tear through anyone who threatened that.
The apartment building’s lock was a joke, giving way under my picks in seconds. The stairwell smelled of stale beer and bad decisions, the kind of place that made your skin crawl. I moved silently, my feet barely touching the steps. The second-floor hallway was dim, a single flickering bulb casting long shadows. Apartment 2B was at the end, the faint hum of electronics seeping through the door.
I paused, listening. Voices, low and agitated, mixed with the clatter of keyboards. They were still awake, still working. Perfect. I set my bag down and pulled out my laptop, connecting to their Wi-Fi with a script that took ten seconds to run. My spiders had already mapped their system—now it was time to play.
I sent a pulse through their network, freezing their screens and locking their keyboards. The voices inside stopped, replaced by curses and the scrape of chairs. I smirked, slipping the laptop back into my bag. Time to meet the neighbors.
I knocked, three sharp raps, and waited. The door cracked open, a skinny guy with a patchy beard peering out. His eyes widened when he saw me—six-three, broad-shouldered, not exactly the pizza delivery guy.
“Who the fuck are you?” he stammered, his hand twitching toward the door.
I didn’t give him a chance to close it. My boot hit the door, slamming it open, and I stepped inside, my presence filling the cramped living room. Two other guys froze, one at a desk cluttered with monitors, the other on a sagging sofa, a laptop balanced on his knees. The air stank of cheap weed and energy drinks.
“Evening, gentlemen,” I said, my voice low, almost pleasant. “You’ve been busy.”
Patchy Beard scrambled back, tripping over a pizza box. “We didn’t do anything, man! Who are you?”
I tilted my head, letting the silence stretch, letting them feel the weight of it. “You hit the Crescent Ballet’s network. Scraped their data. That was a mistake.”
The guy at the desk, a lanky kid with a neck tattoo, laughed nervously. “You’re crazy, man. We don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I stepped closer, my shadow falling over him. “Don’t lie to me. I’ve been in your system for hours. I know every move you’ve made.”
“Here’s how this goes,” I said, my voice cold. “You’re going to delete every scrap of data you stole. Wipe your drives, your backups, everything. Then you’re going to disappear. Leave Charleston. If I ever catch you near a keyboard again, I’ll bury you.”
Patchy Beard sneered, finding his spine. “Fuck you, man. You think you can just walk in here and scare us? We’ve got backups. You can’t touch us.”
Neck Tattoo chimed in, his voice shaky but defiant. “Yeah, we’re not your bitches. You’re not a cop. Get the hell out.”
The third guy, the one on the sofa, stood, his hands balled into fists. “You heard them. Leave, or we’ll make you.”
Something snapped inside me. The demon bellowed, its cage shattering, and all I could see was Vivi’s name in their database,her address in their hands, her life at their mercy. These fuckers thought they could defy me? Thought they could keep her data, keep her vulnerable?
My vision tunneled, red at the edges, and the room felt too small, too hot. The rage boiled over, raw and unstoppable, fueled by the thought of her out there, reckless and untamed, needing me to protect her.
“You’re making a mistake,” I said, my voice dangerously soft.
Patchy Beard laughed, stepping closer, his bravado fueled by stupidity. “No, you are.”
I moved before I could think. My fist caught his jaw, the crack of bone echoing in the cramped space. He crumpled, hitting the floor like a sack of trash, but it wasn’t enough. The demon demanded more. I grabbed him by the collar, yanking him up, and slammed his head into the wall. Blood sprayed, his body going limp as I let him drop, lifeless.
Neck Tattoo lunged, swinging a wild punch, but I was faster. I grabbed his arm, twisted it until it snapped, and drove my knee into his gut. He doubled over, gasping, and I didn’t stop. My hands found his throat, squeezing until his eyes bulged, his fingers clawing at me uselessly. I slammed him against the desk, monitors crashing to the ground, and kept squeezing until he went still, his body a dead weight in my grip.
The guy from the sofa screamed, scrambling for the door, but I was on him in two strides. I caught his collar, yanked him back, and drove my fist into his face, once, twice, until blood poured from his nose. He fell, whimpering, and I straddled him, my hands around his neck.
“You thought you could touch her?” I snarled, my voice barely human.
He choked, his eyes wide with terror, but I didn’t care. The demon was free, and it wanted blood. I tightened my grip,watching the life drain from him, until he was nothing but a husk beneath me.
I stood, chest heaving, the room silent except for the hum of a forgotten fan. Blood stained my hands, my shirt, the floor. The air reeked of copper and fear. I stared at the bodies, the reality of what I’d done sinking in, but the demon was quiet now, sated. They were gone. Her data was safe. She was safe.
I moved mechanically, wiping down surfaces, erasing my presence. My scripts had already locked their system—nobody would find the ballet’s data now. I grabbed my bag, stepped over the bodies, and slipped out into the night. The stairwell was empty, the neighborhood asleep. I slid into my SUV, my hands steady but my mind a storm.
I’d crossed a line, one I’d sworn never to cross again. I wasn’t like my brothers, who balanced their darkness with their women, their families. I was the one who stayed cold, controlled, untouchable.
But Vivi had broken something in me, awakened something I couldn’t cage. The thought of her—her grin, her defiance, the way she’d looked at me like she saw through every wall I’d built—drove me to this. She wasn’t mine, not yet, but the demon didn’t care. It wanted her, and it would burn the world to keep her safe.