Page 26 of Fragile Facade

“Riot!” Ransom shouts at me through my muffled hearing. “Your phone is ringing.”

Fuck. With sticky hands, I pull it from my pocket and answer silently, still unsure if I can hear normally. Lockan.

“Get the fuck over here, Kill. Misfit Hall is under attack.”

All the good parts of me fade away as I don my most wicked mask. Because I’m the only one who chases Soren Sauder to a death he secretly doesn’t want.

Reaper Corp will not have him either.

10

HIS MASKS & MY CRACKS

GHOST

I don’t knowwhere it comes from, but there’s a power within me. It’s a deep well of something dark and sinister, a tool I can call upon whenever needed because it’s never too far from my surface. Maybe it’s reachable because I have so many cracks in my puzzle and my hand reaches through unhindered, or maybe it’s just who I am when I’m not trying to hold my mirage together. Whatever it is, it’s kept me alive, out of the Sauder curse’s clutches, and let me walk off Death’s doorstep more times than should be allowed.

Right now, it’s keeping Misfit Hall from falling.

Warm blood bathes me, soaking through my clothes to rest against my skin like war paint. My fight-or-flight instinct is firmly planted in fight, and every step I take is made with purpose. My knives are an extension of my hands, causing as much carnage as my body position does. Because I won’t fucking let them through.

With Lockan Tate at my side, we defend the fortress. Not because I give a fuck about it, but because I don’t want Reaper Corp to have it. They can have Yates—that dumb fuck is the reason for all of this.

Lock hooks his leg over the porch railing, wrapping his arm around a man’s neck. He hauls him over and throws him at me, my blade piercing his windpipe before I shove him back at Lock. With another stab to the heart, Lock throws him to the grass, and we stand our ground.

“I need to get in there and check on my guys!” Lock shouts, blades flashing.

I rip a dagger free from my belt and fling it at another man pointing a gun right at us. It hits his shoulder, making him falter for a second. Long enough for me to get to him, but before I can, a fucking lion comes out of goddamn nowhere and barrels him over.

“Fabrizio!” Kyd runs up the street in his pink mask, goddamn katanas criss-crossed on his back. “Thank you, Fabi!” He huffs, stopping right in front of the porch. “Hey, boys!”

I wish I could see his smile because it’d be stupidly beautiful right now. I’m unmasked, so I’m not allowed to know who he is, so I nod at him and point inside.

“Yates has had Reaper Corp members living in Misfit Hall for a week. Hidden.”

“The fuck?” Kyd cackles, thinking that’s funny. “And he thinks he’s gonna live through it?”

He won’t. Actually, he will. Because I’m going to ensure he does just so Lockan can have his way with the leader who ruined his gang. I’ve suffered through him enough, so maybe I’m the one who deserves to dish out vengeance.

“Oh, he’ll live,” Lock says, voicing my thoughts. “Because I won’t fucking let him die until he knows how big of a piece of shit he is.”

“What’re we waiting for?” Kyd asks, looking in the direction his lion ran. “I’m feeling extra-extra warrior fae tonight. In the mood for a little cosplay.” He steps up, patting my chest before he roars loudly, ripping his swords free and charging into the hall.

Lock looks at me with a weird grin on his face. “You know that guy?”

“Nope.” I laugh.

Inside is worse than outside. Reaper Corp found a weak point in Moros and this is how they plan to establish their first stronghold. Misfit Hall was the target. Yates let them right in the front door, and they’ve been biding their time to strike while Vile House is distracted.

Because they’re studying us. Learning how we work. Witnessing how we respond to threats and work as a team, and tonight proved that we have no loyalty to The Misfits, because other than me in my real face, no Vile member was here to aid them.

“Kyd!” I shout, drawing a look from Lock, who is piecing everything together all on his own. “How’d you know to come?”

“Director,” Kyd shouts, his katanas working together to behead someone. “Couple more are coming, too.”

“Director?” Lock asks. “Director of what?”

Fucking fuck. His eyes narrow behind me, and then he pulls me back, his fist flying over my shoulder. I spin, grabbing the sides of a Reaper Corp’s neck, and with Lock’s help, we snap it.