Page 1 of Corrupted By the Shadow King (Hope Runs Deep #3)

Alex

“ S inaloa?” I growl as rage speeds through my veins.

My heart bounds beneath my ribs, and I glare for a moment at the vato seated across from me.

The meeting today should have gone effortlessly—a simple review of the terms we’ve all known since we were ninos .

Out of respect and mutual agreement, our families had come together for this meeting every year without changing the terms. Our ancestors set out the steps to follow, but now they were nothing more than a waste of time for all those involved, if you ask me.

There is no point in anyone entertaining the idea that we enjoy each other as we drink the finest liquors and dance amongst our enemies.

Both families in attendance spend the whole evening on guard as we vigilantly look over our shoulders, awaiting our deaths.

Alonzo is not worthy of my trust any more than his tio was of my abuelito’s .

In order to survive, the two of them had come to a mutual understanding of Chihuahua and Coahuila.

Lying in the middle of the Northwest-Northeast border is Sol Cartel territory.

Sinaloa, Sonora, and Durango make up the rest of the Northwest, and they belong to the Luna Cartel.

My family owns every other inch of the Northeast surrounding what is theirs as well.

Our families divided Mexico between the Santiago and Martinez families, staking claims to all of Mexico to keep everyone toeing the line and to put an end to the hundred-year rivalry between our two families.

Abuelito was a good man, but he was no idiota .

He agreed to give the Santiago family the states they requested to broker the treaty, countering with our ownership of land-locking theirs.

“ El Lobo , we already have the biggest part of the Northeast. It only makes sense that we control Sinaloa and Sonora, too.” Alonzo’s tongue confidently slides over his top row of gold teeth before he smiles.

I cock my head to one side and then the other, cracking my neck, hoping to release some of the boiling rage in my body before I address him again. I need to be diplomatic for my family’s sake, but even Abuelito would have killed this vato .

“ Cabrón , I cannot decide if you have the biggest cojones in Mexico or if you are a culo pendejo . Either way, it isn’t happening. Sinaloa and Sonora remain with us!”

“It’s what you owe us! Don Lisandro took advantage of mi tito .”

I cough out a sarcastic laugh. “This cabrón has cojones the size of an elephant’s.

Who do you think you are, vato ? Coming into mi casa with culo pendejo demands.

You can drink my tequila, not jodeme como a una puta !

” My fists pound the table, and I bare my teeth in a growl.

My insides are raw with emotion, and my eyes are fixated on his face in a murderous stare.

Alonzo pulls apart his laced fingers, bringing them around his body, and lunges for the gold-plated guns lying in the middle of the table—my guns.

His second-in-command grunts, yanking his gun off his side, shoving it against my temple.

My head jerks sideways from the force, but my eyes stay on Alonzo’s hands.

Sunlight glistens off the gold-plated howling wolves on the handles within Alonzo’s grasp, and a vicious smile spreads across my face as I watch the silver moons above the wolves shake in his unsteady grip.

I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life.

I jerk away from the muzzle, yanking my blade from beneath the table.

Ricky is on his feet, tackling the guy, leaving me to deal with Alonzo.

With one fast sweep upward, the blade rips through Alonzo’s cheek. He wails out in pain, dropping my guns.

Within seconds, my fingers tighten around the guns that should only be touched by the Luna Cartel, and I slam my fingertips against both triggers.

“Guess you are that stupid!” I shout over his blood-curdling screams with such force that spit flies across the table.

I squeeze the triggers, aiming the muzzles directly at both of his eyes, dropping his body where he stands.

I turn to Ricky just as he plants his gun at the base of the other guy’s skull and blasts his brains out of his head. “And then there were forty days of darkness to follow,” I say cryptically, swallowing hard as reality stops me in my tracks.

“An eclipse, hermano . El Fuego is dead,” he responds, wiping the blood and brains off his gun onto the man’s shirt, and his back straightens. The whites of his eyes widen, scanning across the bloody scene around us.

“Get ready for hell in about three seconds. Angel is a mean son of a bitch, but he can’t take down the rest of the Sol Cartel alone,” I say.

Ricky nods, reloading his gun, and snatches another semi-automatic off the table.

Before my eyes have a chance to focus on the scene we’re walking into, Ricky sinks a bullet between some chump’s shoulder blades.

A storm cloud of bullets pollutes the surrounding air, ripping through the rest of the peace treaty. My brother frantically shakes his head. “I swear, if you die, and I have to be the alpha wolf, I’m going to revive you and kill you again,” he hisses, glancing sideways at me.

“Good to see you too, hermano .” I chuckle, making light of the situation.

“Don’t ‘brother’ me, Alex. You fucking killed the Santiago don.” He pauses, firing a kill shot. “How stupid are you? Culo pendejo ,” he basically repeats himself with the insult.

“El Fuego shot first. They wanted Sinaloa and Sonora.”

His mouth pops open, and then he grins, biting the tip of his tongue. “That greedy little bitch.” He shrugs. “He’s better off dead but will be replaced sooner rather than later. You do realize that, right?”

“Yeah…” My voice trails off, and I lose my ability to breathe.

A guy appears out of nowhere, and his sight is set on my younger brother.

“Angel, look out!” Utter panic takes over my body as my fingers wrap around Angel’s arm, pushing him out of the way as hard as I can.

The feeling of a red-hot fire poker tears through my arm, and I cuss, knowing the bullet intended for my brother is the reason.

“That was fucking rude,” Angel reprimands, whacking his barrel across the shooter’s face. “Nobody fucks with my brother except me!” He forces his second muzzle into the man’s mouth and gives him a lethal taste of lead before the vato has a chance to blink.

I stumble forward, clutching my arm with my hand, and lift my palm in front of my face.

It is red from the blood, but my fingertips look like I dipped them in a gallon of red paint.

Two wounds, if I had to guess, an entry and exit point.

The pain isn’t horrific, but it will be later.

This isn’t my first time getting shot, but it isn’t something a person gets used to, either.

Many times, there’s so much adrenaline coursing through their veins that the pain is manageable.

Once everything calms down, and you come off your high, the pain can be absolute torture depending on how much damage the bullet and casing have done inside the body.

Angel glares at me. “I was serious, Alejandro! If you die, I’m going to be pissed,” he rambles in a hurry, wrapping his arm around me to steady me.

“You’re not the only one. I don’t have time to die,” I fire back at him, patting his hand to reassure him. “I’m okay, Angel.”

“Mmhmm.” He pulls me to his side, rolling his eyes. “I hear you, macho man . El Lobo Soliatario .”

Ricky ducks behind our car, sitting twenty feet in the distance. We don’t have to travel six hours to reach him; we can make it. A solid eight seconds of both of us full-on sprinting will get us there.

“ órale !” My head motions to where Ricky is waiting.

Angel nods, pressing the release buttons on his guns, and a crisp click follows. The magazines drop out, and he replaces them with new ones in expert time. “You, first.”

I shake my head.

“Fine.” He jerks back the slide and then repeats the motion, loading a bullet into each. “Together.”

“Together,” I agree, side-stepping around him, glancing around the corner of the building. “ Dos vatos at three o’clock. Tres at nine.”

“English.”

“Two guys?—”

“Fucking child. Are they on the left or the right?”

“Both,” I snort. “Two on the right and three on the left.”

“Got it,” he snaps in an irritated tone. He yawns. My brother might be the only person on this planet who can yawn right now, given our circumstances.

Drawing my guns in front of me, I take off running with Angel keeping up with my pace.

The two men notice at once. Loud blasts rattle through the atmosphere.

They’re shooting at us. I refuse to let them get another round off.

My muscles throb when I lift my arms and fire back at them, alerting the other guys.

Bullets fly through the air from every direction, and we’re almost out of ammo. We don’t have time to turn back, so forward is our only option.

We reach Ricky just as he flings the back passenger door open and dives into the driver’s seat.