Warlord (Anathema Book 1) (35 page)

I didn’t care if
she hated me, if she’d want to kill me after I settled my vengeance with her
brother, if she’d cry abuse, rape, or cruelty. She was mine.

And I hated
everything the sweet draw of her lips did to my sanity.

She slapped me.
I expected it. But she pushed at me, twisting her hands in my cut and pounding
at my chest as she fought with herself. The kiss won. She offered her mouth,
her tongue, and the little mew that twisted my boxers and created a problem
just as dangerous as whatever forced her into the isolation beyond town.

I gripped her
hair, forcing her to look in my eyes. The baby-bunny peeked back, overwhelmed.

“What happened?”
I growled. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I’m sorry,” she
said. “Please know I am so, so sorry.”

“For
what
?”

She shook free
of me. My fingers itched to grab at her. Tangle in her hair. Grip her hips. Pin
her wrists. She handed me a yellow back-pack, the kind she might have hauled a
dozen books or a synthesizer or whatever music majors carried in college. I
took it. Her lip trembled.

“Christ, Rose. You
were gone for a day. What the hell did you do?”

I wrenched open
the bag. At least five pounds of devil’s ass red crystal meth mocked me.

Two shit labs probably
blew up making that much product. I couldn’t guess the cost of what was in the
bag, except it was probably more than her college tuition. Rose gnawed at her
bottom lip. I’d either kiss it or fatten it before we were done.

“Where?” My rasp
forced the air from my lungs. “
How
?”

“It’s meth.”

“No
shit
.”
I tossed the bag to her feet. “Someone call the goddamned DEA. You’re running a
fucking cartel!”

“It isn’t mine.”

“I’m not an
idiot.”

She flinched. I tried
to soften my voice, but no miracle tamed the demon pulsing on my back.

“Where did you
get that much crystal?”

“Temple.”

Exorcist didn’t
have to kill me. I’d have a damned aneurysm before I figured out what the hell Rose
was talking about. I clenched my fists. My knuckles cracked. Rose broke down
into tears.

“It’s Keep,
isn’t it?” Rose couldn’t speak his name without stammering twice, each lost
syllable a dagger through my side. “He betrayed Anathema. Keep’s working for
Exorcist. I found the same meth in his drawer. Oh, God.” She covered her mouth.
“It’s Keep.”

“Keep.”

“You were right.”
She fell onto the table. “You were right all along. Keep is a traitor.”

Victory never
tasted so sour. Rose stared at me through tear-dotted eyelashes. Her chest
heaved in shallow sobs.

“Are you going
to kill him?”

Yes. But she
didn’t need to know that. Not now.

I resealed the
bag and tossed it beside her. “Calm down and tell me what the hell happened. Where
did these drugs come from?  And what the hell are
you
doing with them?”

“I had to.”

“Had to
what
?”

“If I didn’t, he
would have killed you and my brothers.”

“
Who
?”

Rose tugged at
her hair until the curls pulled straight.

“Exorcist.” She
met my eyes. “The night…the night he kidnapped me…”

I braced myself
for the worst.

“He asked me for
a favor,” she said.

“A favor.”

“I was supposed
to run money and drugs between Temple and The Coup. If I didn’t, he’d kill
everyone. And if I did…” She shook her head. “I think he’s still going to kill
us.”

“Why didn’t you
tell me?”

She waved a hand.
“Just listen. There’s more.”

I didn’t have
enough to drink for anything more. At least I had the concussion. The headache
tempered my rage. I was glad I destroyed my helmet. One good bump on the ride
into the city would fix the whole mess.

“Luke gave me
the money for the drop this morning, but after he left, ATF grabbed me.”

She sang like an
angel and wielded the flaming sword that’d sear all of Anathema into ash. I
swore. If she stayed any longer at Pixie, everyone would end up as pillars of
salt. I ground my teeth.

“You talked to
the Feds?”

Rose paled.
“They talked to
me
.”

“Why.”

“They asked
about the warehouse fire. But…but I don’t think that’s what they wanted.” The
tremor rocking her voice was like if someone held a knife to her throat. “I
think my dad is getting out of jail.”

“Rose, we got a
lot more problems than posting Daddy’s bail.”

She quieted. Rocked
again. Held her arms over her midsection. She needed a hug. I needed answers.

“What else did
ATF say?”

Her words
snapped in her own panic. “Nothing. I got away from them and made the
exchange.”

“And?”

She shrugged. “Luke
expected the drugs an hour ago.”

“Shit.”

“I know.”

“Did you tell
him you had the bag?”

“Yes.” Rose bit
her lip. “I did something stupid.”

“Something
else
?”

She flinched. “I
told them I wasn’t giving them the drugs.”

“Of course you
did.”

“If I met them,
they’d have killed me on the spot.”

“You were dead
the minute they kidnapped you, Rose.” I said. “Jesus Christ.”

“They’ll kill
Keep too.”

“He isn’t your
concern right now.”

Rose bit her lip
again. “Yes, he is. I told Luke I wouldn’t give him the drugs. I’d only give
the bag to my brother. He’s on his way. Just needs the location.”

I held her gaze.
Her baby-bunny eyes flashed a bit harder. A cat stalking for the kill.

“I had to know,”
she said. “I had to know if Keep would betray Anathema.”

“So why’d you call
me?  You know what I have to do.”

She hugged
herself. She shook worse than Keep. “He might have an explanation. You have to
hear him out.”

“I don’t have to
do anything. He’s a traitor. He’s the reason you’re doing this fucking drug
deal.”

“He’s in trouble!”

“So are you!”

“Are you going to
kill me too?” She shrugged, her wild curls shaking with every frantic quiver of
her body. “I agreed to help Exorcist. You have to kill me too.”

The thought of
ever raising a hand to Rose sliced through my gut like someone punched me
instead. I swore. Twice. Didn’t help.

We had no time. Exorcist
wasn’t an idiot. If he thought Rose and Keep partnered up, he’d kill the
traitor before I had a chance to taste his blood. Then he’d come after Rose quicker
than I could find the words to apologize for catching her in the middle of the
war.

“No one is
getting killed,” I said. “Get Keep here. I won’t risk Ex grabbing him first.”

“And then?”

“Call Luke.”

“And what will
you do?”

“I don’t know.” The
honesty would ruin me. “Let me save your life before I start taking any more.”

Rose nodded. The
phone jostled from her hand and fell into the dirt. I picked it up for her,
tucking it safely in her palm. Her fingers clenched, white and cold. I had
nothing to offer her for warmth except my cut.

Neither of us
wanted to cloak her in that demon.

She dialed and
cleared her throat, forcing a rehearsed stage voice that sounded pretty but
concealed a fear far uglier than she’d ever admit to uttering. It wasn’t Luke
who answered.

“You better OD on
those drugs.” Exorcist’s voice sneered through the phone. “As long as your ass
is warm, I’m going to tear you open on my cock and earn back every last cent
you stole from me.”

Rose closed her
eyes. I took her hand. She squeezed hard enough to bruise.

“Tell my brother
to come alone. I’m five miles into Shafford County from the highway. He’ll remember
the spot.”

“You pull
anything, and you’ll wish Daddy were still home.”

Rose didn’t
answer. She hung up and tossed the phone at me before darting from the table. She
got sick in the brush. I didn’t blame her. I wheeled my bike away from the road
as she hobbled to the bench. She didn’t meet my gaze.

“Don’t hurt him
in front of me,” she whispered. “Not unless you plan to kill me too.”

“I could never hurt
you.”

“You did a good
job of it today.”

That was the
truth. I frowned.

“I’m about as
much Casanova as you are Pablo Escobar.”

“Match made in
heaven.”

She blushed and
fell silent. The minutes dragged. I didn’t feel right sitting next to her. Comforting
her. What condolence could I offer?  Only that she’d get to see her brother one
last time before I beat the truth from his junkie hide and wrenched enough pain
from him to satisfy the debt he owed for his sister’s safety.

An hour passed
before the lone headlight of a rogue motorcycle dotted the road. I crouched near
the bushes, though pulling my gun scared the fuck out of the girl it meant to
protect. The bike parked in the shadows near the bench, and the rider hauled
his body over the seat. He didn’t remove his helmet.

Rose immediately
burst into tears.

“No, no, no.” She
lowered her head into her hands. “Not you. I didn’t…I thought…”

The rider didn’t
reach for the bag. He grabbed Rose and pulled her tight against his chest,
muffling her mournful sobs against his cut. He tossed his helmet away.

I didn’t think
the day could get any more fucked.

“I’m sorry, Rose.”
Brew clutched his sister. He didn’t hear my approach. “I had to.”

“But the drugs…”
She pushed away as the gravel crunched under my boots. She fell to the ground. “Oh,
God, Brew. I’m so sorry.”

Brew tensed as
my gun brushed his temple. He didn’t fight. His shoulders sagged, and he held
his arms to the side.

“It wasn’t her
fault, Thorne.” He didn’t take his eyes from Rose. “You gotta believe me.”

I did. But it
wasn’t enough to save him.

Rose sobbed on
the ground. Brew didn’t try to comfort her. Neither did I.

She didn’t
deserve to have her heart-broken twice in one day.

I ripped the cut
from Brew’s shoulders. The scarred demon leered back at me, surrounded in
hellfire and brimstone and everything else that purged evil.

Anathema didn’t
used to mean wicked. It once meant
set aside
. Godly. Something to be
offered. Something holy and separate from the world.

If anything,
destroying The Coup and Exorcist would restore the club to the true meaning of
anathema.

But it wouldn’t
save me.

An angel cried
on the ground, and I’d burn a new eternity for every tear she shed.

I didn’t believe
in last requests.

Retribution.
Vengeance. Righteous violence. Those were worth believing in.

Sins existed
that didn’t deserve absolution. Betrayal was one of them. Murder another. But blood
purified what forgiveness could not. We understood this. It was why we wore the
patches. Why we lived the life we did. We didn’t expect mercy from the devil. We
couldn’t ask it of our brothers.

A man deserved
the death he earned.

I didn’t believe
in last requests. But Rose did. Especially when she asked it on behalf of her
brother.

She wanted to
talk with him.

Brew wanted the
bullet.

I had no fucking
idea what to do, so I took him to Sorceress. Figured a strip club was as good a
last request as any. He rolled out of Rose’s car as soon as she parked. Rose
silently wept. Brew didn’t try to comfort her. Couldn’t, not with the jumper
cables I improvised as bindings for his wrist. He grunted as I shoved him from
the car.