Page 26
I t turned out that Will wanted him to come back to the ranch.
At first, Azrael had balked, but when Will pushed home that Titus was after Real with a small army, it suddenly made sense.
Although he’d been there before, the ranch was unlike anything he’d experienced long term. It was filled with camaraderie and things like watching each other’s backs, or never going anywhere alone.
It was so totally different than his job with Erebus. Although Erebus had a new rule to work in pairs, Azrael had never done it. The rule wasn’t shoved down their throats or anything, it was a choice. Azrael preferred to work alone when he did wet work for Erebus.
Savage was the leader of Erebus and the guy was a hard ass, but also knew there was only so much leash he could tighten before the members said fuck you and bailed.
What he hadn’t expected was to enjoy the hell out of hanging out with YA assassins, and he figured that was because they were the same age. As much as he didn’t want to acknowledge it, there was a generational gap between YA and the other groups.
The age gap didn’t stop him from wanting Real. In fact, it was one of the things he liked about them as a couple.
Only…he wasn’t sure they were a couple at all.
From where he stood hidden next to one of the several big brown barns, Real drank in the vision of Azrael.
He had known the young assassin would find a high surface, and it was one of the reasons he had personally picked that particular cabin for Azrael.
He had also attached the wooden blocks to the outer wall that served as a ladder to the roof.
Azrael pulled his knees to his chest, feet flat on the surface, and lifted his face to the bright blue sky. His long ass hair fell down his back, cascading in waves, and Real wanted to sink his fingers into it.
They had been back at the Nightfall Drifters Ranch for three days, and so far, Azrael had avoided him like the plague.
The sound of a scuffle drew his attention, and he caught sight of Freedom and Boston tumbling out of the barracks door and down the steps.
The pair were fighting, and it didn’t look like a practice spar at all. Before Real could even take a step, Azrael launched off the top of the roof to the ground. Thank fuck it hadn’t been that far of a leap, none of the cabins were that tall, but it gave Real heart failure.
He ran full out, but Azrael was far ahead of him.
Out of the barracks came Fierce, and he snagged Boston by the back of his shirt and hefted him off Freedom hard.
Oh fuck, where the fuck was Rip? Real ran full out, but Azrael got there first. Instead of mitigating the fight, Azrael launched at Fierce and hit the guy hard with a kidney punch.
Fierce lost his grip on Boston just as Rip entered the dusty yard. Azrael danced away when Rip came onto the scene. Real had a gut feeling he was going to be too late, and he was.
Rip was fucking fast. Fierce might have bulk on Rip, but there was no way in hell Fierce could win against Rip.
The two bigger assassins went at it in a blur of fists, feet, and knives.
The fight between Rip and Fierce caused Boston and Freedom to stop whatever the fuck they had been doing.
“No!” Freedom wailed when Fierce went down in the dirt, and the tiny blond ran to shield Fierce with his body.
Boston didn’t even speak, he ran and leaped on Rip’s back, clinging to him. Wrapping his arms and legs around Rip’s neck and waist.
“Don’t please,” Boston begged.
Real heard the words because he was close enough.
Fierce leaped to his feet and moved in, even as Freedom clung to his big, beefy arm, getting dragged along.
Stepping between the two big assassins, Real blocked Fierce’s next blow.
Rip had stopped immediately when Boston clung to his back.
“This ends right the fuck now,” Viper growled.
The words of authority rang through the air, causing them all to give the man approaching their attention.
Viper, the commander of the active military side of Genesis, stood with Crow on one side and Winter on the other.
“Sir,” Rip said and took several steps away, unfazed by Boston still clinging to his back.
“I don’t answer to you,” Fierce told Viper, his words low and lethal.
“Then get the hell off my ranch,” Viper said, his words just as low and guttural.
The air was so charged with tension that Real could have cut it with a knife.
“News flash, this isn’t your ranch,” Fierce’s lip curled in a sneer.
“I run this place when Will’s not here,” Viper said, oh so very quietly.
It was plain to see the rising rage on the commander’s face. In truth, Quick Jameson used to own this ranch but sold it to Will not long ago, but that was beside the point, Fierce was being disrespectful as fuck to Viper.
“I’m still here,” Will said, and all eyes snapped to the SecDef.
Today, Will wore blue jeans that molded to his powerful thighs and a dark blue t-shirt that seemed to have been poured over his muscled chest. The man wore work boots and gloves. A brown mare stood behind Will, the reins in the man’s hand dangled a bit, but she was content to stand still.
“What the fuck is going on,” Will said, and it wasn’t a question.
“He put his hands on Boston,” Rip said, reaching around behind himself to remove Boston from his back.
Other than a fat lip, Boston was no worse for wear.
“Boston hit Freedom for no reason,” Fierce said. “I can’t allow that.”
“I had my reasons!” Boston glared at Freedom.
Freedom licked his bottom lip and looked away.
“I’m going to give you a piece of advice,” Will said. “The next time the young assassins go at it, Genesis needs to stay the hell out of it.”
Will lifted the reins on the mare and mounted her. Once he was situated in the saddle, he looked at them.
“And Viper and Real’s words are law here. If you don’t like it, then get out,” Will said flatly.
The SecDef’s words were directed flatly right at Fierce.
Every person froze at Will’s words.
The silence was deafening.
Table of Contents
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- Page 26 (Reading here)
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