Page 8 of The Sniper (Club Southside #9)

CHAPTER EIGHT

DANIELS

T he call came just after dawn, jolting Daniels from the first real sleep he’d had in days. His phone vibrated against the nightstand, its incessant hum dragging him into the waking world. He answered by instinct, his voice gravelly and sharp.

“Daniels.”

“Another body,” Whitman said, his voice devoid of pleasantries. “Same kind of scene. You’re going to want to get down here.”

Daniels sat up, rubbing a hand over his face as the words sank in. Another body. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, already reaching for the jeans he’d discarded the night before. “Where?”

“An old warehouse in the industrial district. It’s already cordoned off. And Daniels…” Whitman hesitated, his tone dropping. “This one’s worse.”

Daniels’ stomach twisted. He didn’t ask for details—he’d see it soon enough. “I’m on my way.”

By the time he arrived, the sun was creeping over the horizon, casting the industrial district in a muted gray light. The warehouse stood at the end of a long, deserted street, its rusted exterior and broken windows adding to the sense of foreboding. Yellow crime scene tape flapped in the breeze, and the faint hum of voices drifted from inside.

Daniels parked his SUV and approached the building, flashing his badge at the uniformed officers stationed at the entrance. Harris met him just inside, his expression grim as he gestured toward the far end of the warehouse.

“Victim’s a male, early forties,” Whitman said, falling into step beside Daniels. “He’s known in the community—goes by the name Titan. Owned a private dungeon out in the suburbs. He had ties to Veda, and there’s another message.”

Daniels clenched his jaw, his mind racing. Two bodies. Two messages. This wasn’t random. It was calculated, deliberate. Someone was sending a message, and they were using the BDSM community as their canvas.

“What’s the message this time?” Daniels asked as they approached the scene.

Harris’s lips thinned, and he nodded toward the ground near the body. “See for yourself.”

Daniels stepped closer, his boots crunching against the debris-strewn floor. The victim lay sprawled on his back, his arms bound behind him with coarse rope. Blood pooled beneath him, a stark crimson against the grime of the concrete floor. But it was the writing that drew Daniels’ attention—the same jagged scrawl as before, written in blood near the body:

Cerber

Had Veda not written the first message? Instead of a warning, was the killer goading them? The letters seemed to taunt him, their crude strokes vibrating with a sense of urgency he couldn’t ignore. Whoever this killer was, they weren’t just leaving clues—they were leaving breadcrumbs to a story Daniels hadn’t yet pieced together.

Daniels crouched beside the body, his gaze sweeping over the scene. Titan’s face was pale, his expression frozen in a mix of fear and pain. There was no mistaking the similarities to Veda’s murder—the same calculated brutality, the same deliberate message. This wasn’t just a warning. It was a declaration.

Whitman shifted uncomfortably behind him. “Medical examiner is on the way, but from what we can tell, he bled out. Same MO as Veda.”

Daniels stood, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “And no one saw anything?”

“Not a damn thing,” Whitman admitted. “The building’s been abandoned for years. No security cameras, no witnesses. Whoever did this knew what they were doing.”

Daniels turned, his gaze scanning the darkened corners of the warehouse. It felt suffocating, the air thick with the residue of violence. Their killer always seemed to be one step ahead, always watching.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at the screen—Reyna. For a moment, he considered ignoring it. He didn’t want to drag her further into this mess, not when it was becoming clear just how dangerous it was. But he knew better than to leave her out of the loop. She’d never forgive him.

“Yeah,” he said, answering the call.

“What’s going on?” Reyna’s voice was sharp, cutting straight to the point. “I heard there’s been another murder.”

Daniels held his breath, his grip tightening around the phone. “We just found the body. Same as Veda. Same message.”

There was a pause, and he could picture her pacing, her mind already working through the implications. “Who?”

“Titan,” Daniels said. “He had ties to Veda. Owned a private dungeon out in the suburbs.”

“Shit,” she muttered, the word heavy with frustration. “I’m coming down there.”

“Reyna...”

“Don’t start,” she interrupted, her tone brooking no argument. “This is my case just as much as it’s yours. I’ll be there in twenty.”

The line went dead before he could respond, leaving Daniels staring at the screen with a mix of frustration and annoyance. He realized that mixture was common in his dealings with Reyna. He slipped the phone back into his pocket, his mind already racing ahead.

Reyna wasn’t going to back down. He knew that. But as the case spiraled deeper into chaos, the gnawing guilt he felt would be harder to keep from the edges of his thoughts. He’d called her in, pulled her into this storm, and now people were dying. The thought of her being next—of her being caught in the crosshairs—was a weight he wasn’t sure he could bear.

Reyna arrived exactly twenty minutes later, stepping out of her black SUV with the kind of purpose that turned heads. Her hair was swept back into its usual spikes, and she was dressed in her standard tactical gear, exuding the air of someone who belonged exactly where she was.

She strode into the warehouse, her gaze cutting through the scene with laser precision. When she reached Daniels, her eyes flicked to the body and the scrawled message before locking onto his.

“Details,” she demanded, shoving her hands into the pockets of her leather motorcycle jacket.

Daniels gestured toward the body. “Other than what I already told you? Nothing. I was just getting ready to call you when you called me.”

Reyna crouched beside the body, her sharp gaze taking in every detail. “They’re escalating,” she said, her voice low. “This isn’t just about Cerberus. It’s about the entire community.”

Daniels nodded, his jaw tightening. “They’re sending a message, but we don’t know who it’s for.”

Reyna stood, her expression hard. “Then we find out. We dig into Titan’s connections, his clients, anyone who might have had a reason to target him.”

“Could be. We’re already running background checks,” Daniels said. “But it’s going to take time.”

“Then we don’t wait,” Reyna said, her tone sharp. “We start with the people closest to him and fan out from there. Someone knows something.”

Daniels studied her, the fire in her eyes a stark contrast to the chill that hung in the air around them. She was relentless, and he knew she wouldn’t stop until they had answers. But that determination came at a cost, and he wasn’t sure she saw the danger that lay ahead.

As much as Daniels hated to admit it, he wasn’t sure if he could protect her from what was coming.

Daniels stood in the cramped office of Assistant Director Carol Mathers, the sharp scent of stale coffee and paper files thick in the air. The blinds were drawn, casting thin slats of light across the mahogany desk that separated them. Mathers sat behind it, her hands steepled under her chin, her eyes boring into him like she was reading every secret he’d ever tried to bury.

“This isn’t a request, Daniels,” she said, her tone clipped and cold. “I’ve got the brass breathing down my neck over this case. Two bodies, two messages, and you’ve tied it to a private security outfit that isn’t exactly forthcoming with their methods. Now you’re telling me there’s a very real possibility you’ll need to work undercover?”

Daniels kept his stance relaxed, but his mind churned with frustration. He’d dealt with Mathers long enough to know that trying to meet her head-on would get him nowhere. She was a master at cutting down anyone who challenged her authority, and today, he wasn’t in the mood to play her games.

“With all due respect,” he began, his voice even, “this isn’t just a local homicide. Whoever’s behind this is targeting a very specific group within the BDSM community, and they’re doing it for a reason. Cerberus believes they’ve uncovered a lead that could take us directly to them.”

Mathers raised an eyebrow. “And that lead requires you to work outside the Bureau’s parameters?”

“It requires flexibility,” Daniels countered. “The victims were connected through an underground auction. High-stakes, off-the-books, and the kind of operation that doesn’t take kindly to strangers. We need someone who can blend in.”

“And I suppose that someone is you?” Mathers asked, her skepticism cutting.

Daniels didn’t blink. “I have the connections and the knowledge. I’ve been part of this scene long enough to know how to navigate it. If we send in anyone else, they’ll get made before they even step foot inside, and Cerberus will cut us off at the knees. They’ll work with the Bureau, but only with people they know, and they are quite adept at stonewalling.”

Mathers leaned back in her chair, her lips pressing into a thin line. “And what about Reyna Marx? You’re dragging a civilian into this.”

“She’s not a civilian,” Daniels said sharply. “She’s one of Cerberus’ top people. They’ve got their own resources, and she’s already proven invaluable to this investigation. If I’m going undercover, she’s coming with me.”

Mathers’s eyes narrowed. “You’re too close to this, Daniels. You’ve been too close since the start. It’s clouding your judgment.”

Daniels stepped closer to the desk, his voice lowering. “This isn’t about judgment. This is about stopping a killer before they strike again. I’ve got two bodies and a message that says we’re running out of time. If you want results, this is how we get them.”

Mathers stared at him for a long moment, the silence stretching thin between them. Finally, she sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. “Fine,” she said. “But you’d better bring me something concrete, Daniels. No more theories. No more half-measures. I want results, or I’m pulling you off this case.”

“You’ll get them,” Daniels said, his tone firm. He turned and walked out before she could say anything else, his frustration simmering just below the surface.

Back at the Cerberus office, Daniels found Reyna hunched over a laptop, her brow furrowed as she scanned a series of documents on the screen. The room was dim, the glow of the monitor casting a pale light over her features. She didn’t look up when he entered, her focus unshaken.

“What’ve you got?” he asked, his voice cutting through the quiet.

Reyna tapped a few keys before turning the screen toward him. “It’s a list of participants from an auction. Took some digging, but I managed to cross-reference the names with the victims. Both Veda and Titan were listed as attendees at a private auction six months ago. High-value items, no public records, completely underground.”

Daniels leaned over the desk, his eyes scanning the names. “What kind of items?”

“Human,” Reyna said flatly. “The kind that don’t get a choice.”

His stomach tightened, the implications sinking in. The underground auction wasn’t just a black-market operation—it was trafficking, plain and simple. And Veda and Titan had been caught up in it.

“Do we have any intel on the next auction?” he asked, his voice steady despite the fire building in his chest.

Reyna nodded, flipping to another document. “There’s one scheduled in two days. Location’s still classified, but I’ve got a lead on how to get us an invite.”

Daniels straightened, his mind already working through the logistics. “We’ll go in undercover. Play the part, gather intel, and figure out who’s behind this.”

Reyna raised an eyebrow. “You think Mathers is going to sign off on that?”

“She already has,” Daniels said. “But she’s watching us closely. We need to make this count.”

Reyna leaned back in her chair, her arms crossing over her chest. “And how exactly do you plan to blend in at a high-stakes auction for human lives?”

Daniels stepped closer, his presence filling the space between them. “We use what we’ve got. My connections in the community. Your ability to stay cool under pressure. And the fact that neither of us is afraid to get our hands dirty.”

Reyna held his gaze, the challenge in her eyes unmistakable. “You do realize how dangerous this is, right? It’s not like I can go in there with a sniper rifle.”

“I know,” Daniels said, his voice low. “But it’s our best shot at stopping this.”

She studied him for a moment longer before nodding. “Fine. But if you start acting like a hero, I’m out.”

“Noted,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

As they began hashing out the details of their plan, Daniels couldn’t help but feel that they were stepping into something far bigger than either of them anticipated. The auction was just the beginning—a thread leading to a web of corruption and violence that ran deeper than he cared to imagine.

Two days later, Daniels adjusted the cuffs of his tailored suit as they stepped out of the sleek black car and onto the smooth pavement leading to the auction’s private venue. The sprawling estate loomed ahead, its grand facade a stark contrast to the darkness that surely lay within.

Reyna stood beside him, her short, spiky hair hidden beneath a dark wig, her dress a slinky, sequined number that clung to her curves in all the right places. She looked every bit the part of a wealthy buyer’s companion, but Daniels knew better than to let her appearance fool him. Beneath the glamour was a lethal operative, one who wouldn’t hesitate to take down anyone who crossed her.

“You ready for this?” he asked, his voice low as they approached the entrance.

“Always,” she replied, her tone steady.

The doorman eyed them as they handed over their forged invitations, but after a brief moment, he stepped aside, allowing them entry. The main hall was a sea of opulence—crystal chandeliers, polished marble floors, and an air of decadence that felt suffocating.

Daniels kept his hand lightly on Reyna’s back, a protective gesture disguised as part of the act. As they moved through the crowd, his eyes scanned for anything out of place—familiar faces, potential threats, anything that might give them a lead.

“We’ve got eyes on us,” Reyna murmured, her lips barely moving.

“Good,” Daniels said. “Let’s give them something to see.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Stay close. This is where it gets dangerous.”

Reyna tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with something that might have been amusement. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

As they melted deeper into the crowd, Daniels sense of foreboding seemed to hang over them. The auction was a gateway—a door to the truth they’d been searching for. But he couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of his mind, the one that whispered they were walking into a trap.

And this time, there might not be a way out.