Page 1 of Twisted Ties

1

Stone

I strideout of that alley and into the dark back streets down by the docks, white sea mist swirling in the dim light of the overhead lamps.

I’m going to find him. I’m going to find him and I’m going to kill him.

That man – that bastard fucking man – was going to kill her. To end her life. To take her from us. And for all my talk, for all my pretense that I don’t give a damn about the girl who’s stumbled into our lives and shaken everything upside down with both her hands, I’m lying.

I do care. I care so much it makes my heart ache in my chest and I can’t stand there and look at her crumpled on the ground in pain.

I need to kill the man that did this to her. I need to make him pay for it. I won’t let him live. No way am I goingto let him live to strike again. Because he will. Renzo Barone is as relentless as he is disturbed, and his boss doesn’t accept failure. They won’t stop until the job is done.

So I’m going to find him and I’m going to kill him. And I’m going to do it right now.

I may not be a tracker like Azlan. But I have my skill, my ability – reading minds. And – what only my friend knows – is that if I try hard enough, if I concentrate with every fiber of my being, I can read them over distance. And Renzo’s? Well, it’s like a fucking siren – a chaotic, noisy mess blaring out there in the darkness.

His thoughts are too rambling, too many voices jabbering all at once for me to make any sense of it. Although there’s one theme, one topic, repeating over and over again. The girl. Like he’s obsessed.

Yeah, well, he can get in line.

I follow that crackling noise through the empty streets, my eyes flicking from side to side, watchful for any unseen strike, my hands raised and ready.

There’s no one else out here. I suspect they heard that fight back there in the alleyway and have tucked themselves away and out of danger.

I know the kind of people who live here. Hell, I spent my childhood among them. They know to keep their heads down and to stay out of trouble. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. That’s the way to survive.

The noise of Renzo’s mind grows louder, and I pick up my pace, until I spot him in the distance, sitting astride his motorbike, tying a tourniquet around his arm, the eerie mist lingering around his feet, making him appear ghostly.

I launch a cascade of my most violent magic towards him and his head snaps my way. He can’t see me hiding inthe shadows and he’s forced to duck low, twisting and turning to avoid my onslaught.

I curse myself. If I held my temper, if I’d remained calmer … but I’m too damn angry, rage curling through my body in hot, hot flames. Flames that don’t want to listen to caution or logic. Flames that want to burn him to ashes.

I send more magic crashing his way, but I’ve lost the element of surprise now and he meets mine with his own, the bolts slamming into each other and exploding so fiercely, I’m forced to raise my arms and shield my eyes.

“The Enforcer and the Professor,” he cackles with an amusement that sounds unhinged. “I haven’t seen you fight together in a long time. This has almost been fun.”

Fun?

Fun?!

The sicko nearly killed my girl. My mate.

I growl, stepping out of the shadows and firing rapid bolts straight at him.

He sweeps his arm through the air, creating an impenetrable shield, the bolts exploding against its surface but traveling no further.

“And out to save the girl? Curious …” He kicks up the stand of his bike, wheels it around to face me. “Want to tell me why?”

“I’m going to kill you,” I hiss, running at him. I don’t give a shit about magic. I want my hands around his throat. I want to punch my fist against his skull. I want to feel it splinter into a million pieces.

His magic streams past me as I run, but I block it all, and then I’m on him, grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging him off the bike.

A sick grin spreads across his face.

They say the assassin has a love of blood, a love ofgetting his hands dirty. That he likes to make his killings as messy as he can. No silent bolt of magic through the night, striking his victim in the back of the head. No, he’d rather break every bone in their body first.

Is that what he was going to do to her?