Page 6

S aturday morning came brightly and with a sense of purpose, Azrael jogged down the wide stairs. He had returned to Dave’s late last night, and thankfully, the roof and his room had been empty of a certain sexy SEAL.

Now, he was ravenous and looking for food.

“Hey, bro!” Apollo’s voice floated down from above, and Azrael glanced up.

Apollo leaned over the railing with a smile, his shoulder-length straight black hair sliding forward. His brother’s hair wasn’t anywhere near as long as his own, but the dark, rich texture was identical.

“Let’s go to breakfast,” Apollo called down.

“Now you’re talking.” Azrael smiled back.

It was nice to see Apollo smiling, and when his twin was happy, Azrael couldn’t help but follow. He let the worry about Real float away and waited as Apollo and Cash came down the stairs.

Real and Stone’s voices floated from down one of the hallways, and Azrael’s heart started to pound.

“I forgot something, I’ll meet you on the street out front.” With that said, Azrael flew up the stairs and back into his room.

He shut and locked his bedroom door, hurried over to open the window, and slipped outside. Jogging across the roof, he picked up speed to make the jump to the high block wall.

No way did he want to run into Real. Humiliation still burned from the harsh way Real had shoved him aside after their near kiss.

Cat-walking down the wall, Azrael leaped to the grass on the other side and walked out to the side street.

Cash pulled to a stop with one of Dave’s SUVs, and Azrael quickly slid into the backseat.

“You know you can use the front door.” Apollo turned around to face him from the passenger seat.

“I know.” He shrugged.

“It’s what normal people—.”

“Okay!” Cash cut off Apollo brightly and slapped his hand to the steering wheel. “There’s this cool place on the beach that serves pancakes. You both down for that?”

“With strawberries?” Apollo asked, laughter clear in his voice.

Azrael wrinkled his nose at the thought of fruit on his pancakes. “As long as they have maple, I’m good,” he said.

The place was noisy, and the smell of bacon and baked goods filled the air.

Azrael’s stomach growled, and he was reminded that he’d gone to bed without food last night. It hadn’t been the first time nor the last.

“My treat,” he told them and slid into the booth the hostess led them to. He lifted the menu and searched for the combination breakfast plate.

“Thanks, bro, we appreciate it,” Apollo said, gazing at the menu.

“So…how’s the startup coming along?” Cash asked out of the blue.

“What startup?” Azrael frowned.

“Wait…” Cash looked at Apollo, who looked guilty as hell.

Azrael laid down his menu and squinted at his brother. “Are you talking about YA?”

“I don’t know.” Cash frowned with confusion.

“I heard something about it,” Apollo said, waving his hand about, his shoulder-length hair shimmered in the light.

Azrael shook back his own dark hair, and to keep the silky strands from falling forward, he tied it back with a black hair tie he kept around his wrist.

“What did you hear?” he asked.

“Well, for starters, Rebel told me he wants to rescue Solomon’s lost boys,” his brother said.

“That’s true.” Azrael nodded slowly.

The waitress came with water and took their orders before leaving them alone.

“And?” Cash prompted.

“I was going to tell you about YA, but it sounds like you already know,” Azrael said sheepishly.

“Only from what Rebel us,” Apollo said.

“Well…It’s going well. It’s a slow start, but after I get a few key elements handled, YA should be up and running,” Azrael told them.

“I hate that you stayed in that life,” Apollo said, his mouth pulling down sadly.

“I’m happy you left this life,” Azrael countered.

“I think part of growing up is figuring out who you are and what you want in life,” Cash murmured, rubbing the five o’clock shadow on his jaw.

“Quit that or you’ll leave a rash,” Apollo scolded and removed Cash’s fingers from his face.

“It’s bugging me,” Cash said sheepishly.

“But so sexy,” Apollo countered.

Azrael laughed. “You two are nuts.”

“Certifiable,” Apollo agreed, and they shared a smile.

The waitress delivered their food, plates piping hot and piled high. The smell of sausage and pancake drifted in the air, and Azrael attacked the food with a vengeance.

The talk turned to college life after that, and the rest of their breakfast was lively. Meeting up with them had been fun.

Azrael had them drop him off down the street before pulling into the main gate.

Walking along the garden, Azrael was heading toward the spot where he could scale the wall and leap to the roof and enter his room that way.

The only reason he was doing that was because he didn’t want to run into Real.

“If you keep taking off, we won’t let you back on the property.”

Azrael turned at the tall green hedges and gazed at the three guards.

The guy in the front glared at him. Since when the fuck couldn’t he take off?

And whose orders would prevent him from coming back?

Was it Dave, Stone…or had Real said something?

“I don’t even know who you are, nor do I care, but if you get in my way, there’s going to be a problem,” Azrael said, squinting at the big beefy guard who had spoken.

There were three of them, but Azrael was sure he could kill them all. But he wasn’t sure if Dave would be pissed if his guards suddenly ended up dead.

On the other hand, he was an assassin and they were fucking with him.

“I’m the lead guard at this estate, and you better remember that,” the same guard said.

“I have faulty memory when it comes to douche bags,” Azrael said and walked past them.

The guy shoulder-checked him hard, and because he hadn’t been expecting it, Azrael couldn’t brace himself.

Thank fuck he was agile and quick on his feet, so he saved himself from plowing into the walkway, but his shoulder hit the brick wall and pain pulsed through his arm.

Later, when he thought about his reaction, he knew it came from his gut. The knife was in his palm, and before he could think twice or have any regrets, he sliced an X down the front of the man’s white dress shirt that all of them wore beneath a black suit.

His blade never missed.

It sliced through the material and left a good eighth of an inch deep cut crisscrossed into the man’s skin.

The guard fell back with a hiss, and the other two guards pulled their guns. The barrels were pointed at his head.

Azrael squeezed his hand around the knife handle, and he wondered if he could take them both out while dodging bullets. He figured that would be superman shit and didn’t risk it.

“Go ahead,” Azrael goaded, stepping in close enough so the barrel pressed against his forehead. “Pull the fucking trigger and then you can explain to Dave, Stone, and Real why I’m dead.”

“They won’t blame us. You’re a pain in the ass,” the guard said, pressing the gun against his forehead.

The sliced-up guard was holding his shirt against his chest, trying to stem the flow of blood.

Azrael stepped back and pointed to one of several cameras that had caught the whole thing. Dave was very efficient at keeping the property protected.

It was eleven o’clock in the morning, and Azrael knew without a doubt that the cameras were always monitored.

“I’m going up that wall and across the roof and into my room,” he informed them, backing away so he kept them in his sights.

They never lowered their guns, and Azrael never took his eyes away until he had to scale the wall.

He expected to feel a bullet in his back the whole time, and raced along the top of the wall, leaped onto the roof, and didn’t look back until he was through his open window.

This would be the last time he ever came here.

His plan was to avoid Real at all costs, get the data from Genesis, and haul ass out of there.

In that order.