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Saint: A Dark Romance (Saint and Sinners Book 1) Page 27
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As for the paper dust masks, those were a quick trip to the store. They didn’t have Ms stitched on the side, but they concealed our identity just fine.
I took a step. “Excuse us.”
“Hold on.” They both held up their hands.
Cory and Terrance looked like normal guys at a normal day on the job. As long as you took no notice of the loose clothes that made it easy to conceal weapons, long sleeves to hide the crown tattoo, and their general air of “go away” when they’re supposed to be the welcome party.
We were definitely in the right place.
“We didn’t hear anything about a regulation change,” Cory said. “Why weren’t we informed beforehand?”
“Everyone in this neighborhood was informed by automated phone calls,” Sinjin replied. “Trouble is people usually hang up when robo-Karen starts talking. And that’s if they pick up a call from an unknown number.”
Cory and Terrance shared a look.
“Want to get on the phone with our supervisor?” I plucked a car from my chest pocket. “He’ll tell you everything we did.”
“Yes, I would.” Cory took the card and drifted off to make the call.
Terrance stayed on us, mean-mugging to make a real city inspector uncomfortable.
“Why are you wearing masks?” he demanded.
“We might have to poke a few holes,” I said. “Don’t worry, we patch them back up.”
“They’re legit,” Cory announced, hanging up the phone. “Their boss said they’re in and out in ten minutes if nothing’s wrong.”
Terrance didn’t budge. “We can’t allow you to go around poking holes and disturbing our guests.”
“We need to see inside the kitchen, cellar, and the back of the building. You have a lot of guest hanging around there?”
“Ten minutes,” Cory said. “That’s all you have.” He snapped his fingers at the men inside. “First floor only. Do not poke holes.”
Finally, we were let inside.
The Castian was all the pomp and arrogance I expected of the club beneath Paradise.
Hell had marble floors. Decorative heat lamps lining our way. Large portraits of serious, unsmiling Victorians on every wall. Their unfriendliness was matched and exceeded by the crew working the lobby.
Two supposed bellhops. A front desk agent in an elegant pantsuit who watched us until we disappeared around a corner. Three people playing cards in the lobby seating area. The man polishing glasses in the bar lounge. He stopped and shut the door in our faces. Lounge closed.
“Kim, stay with them,” Cory said. “Help the inspectors to whatever they need, so they can be on their way in ten minutes.”
“Sure.” Kim got up in the middle of her card game. “Let’s go.”
“Which way to the kitchen?” I asked.
“That way.” She pointed to the silver double doors directly ahead of us.
Kim was a tall woman with short hair and an obvious bulge under her coat. I guessed her official title was security. It allowed her to be obvious.
“Where’s the cellar?” Sinjin asked.
“You stay on the first floor.”
“Look.” Sinjin unfurled a map and held it up in front of their faces. “The new codes say cellars have to meet these minimum measurements.”
Carefully, I backed toward the kitchen.
“I don’t care what you’ve got going on down there,” he went on. “I just need those measurements.”
My pulse raced a mile a minute. All the guards had to do was look up from their poker game. Kim could chance a peek around the map. If they did, it was over.
Digging in my tool belt, I rescued the cannister. I edged the door open and tossed it inside.
“You can do the measuring, and I’ll wait here.”
“What is this for?”
Another object went flying into the kitchen.
I straightened and went to Sinjin’s side. “Building code regulations,” I repeated my mantra. “We’re checking older buildings to ensure they’re in compliance. Won’t take long—”
“Holy shi— Fire!” The card player leaped to his feet. “There’s a fire!”
“What the—?” Kim ran to the door. She flung it open and billowing smoke poured out. “Ah! Get a fire extinguisher!”
“Can you see the fire?!” I asked.
“It’s over there! I can get to it!”
“It’s too late. There’s too much smoke.” The Kings rushed to see. “Where’s the fire alarm?”
“It doesn’t work,” the desk agent blurted.
“What do you mean it doesn’t work?” I cried. “Just get out of here. Everybody, out!”
Kim didn’t need to be told twice. She nearly knocked me down racing for the exit on the heels of her card buddies.
“Fire,” Sinjin sang. He popped another smoke bomb and tossed it at the couch. “Run. Run for your lives.”
“Stop laughing. They’re not out yet.” I peered around a pillar.
The guards, bellhops, and desk agent bottlenecked at the topiaries.
“Got a Samaritan,” Sinjin remarked.
The lounge bartender went for the stairs, shouting “fire” all the way up.
“Sometimes it pays to do the right thing,” I said.
“Doesn’t pay for long.”
The Kings escaped, spilling onto the drive. Through the glass doors I watched their bodies jerk and writhe in a hail of bullets.
The Merchants streamed inside, leaving them where they lay. They were a terrible sight to behold in those ski masks and silk shirts. A sight the children did not need to see.
“Head up the west stairwell,” Sinjin said. “The children go down the east.”
“Be careful,” I said. “A kid might run the wrong way. Don’t shoot anyone who isn’t shooting at you.”
“Move!” shouted a ski-masked Cash. He, and two figures I knew well broke off from the pack making for the west stairwell. “Take this.”
Cash held out a gun.
“I don’t need it.”
“Then you won’t have to use it.” He shoved it into my hand. “At least you’ll have it.”
He and Brutal were off before I could make him take it back.
I spun on Sinjin. “Saint, take it.”
“We don’t have time for this, Bunny,” he said, hooking through my belt loop. “There’s a pile of bodies on the doorstep. We need to leave this party before it’s crashed.”
I swiftly shed the uniform for the black, long-sleeved romper underneath. Sinjin caught me trying to leave the gun in the pile and stuffed it in my pocket.
“I’ll take the fourth floor,” Mercer said. Mercer got a spare mask out of my tool bag and made a trade. Less a frightening monster and more the helpful man directing you out of the fire. He didn’t wait for us to tag along.
Uniform on the floor, Sinjin pulled me after him, and then I ran out in front, tearing up the steps. Sinjin set off another bomb under the staircase.
Together we burst onto the second floor. The guard patrolling the hallway spun with his gun at the ready.
“Fire,” I cried, waving at the smoke already seeping under the door.
“Who are you?”
“Does it matter?! That way is blocked. We have to use the other staircase.”
He spun on his heels, breaking out with no regard to the people locked in the rooms. Our footsteps thundered behind him.
“Hey!” He skidded to a stop on the landing, scrambling for his gun. The door swung shut as he dropped. After a beat, Cash tossed his keyring inside.
“I say again, great plan.”
“Fire!” I shouted. “Get out! There’s a fire.”
Sinjin and I waited.
He scanned the doors, eyes hard. “This floor must be clear.”
A door banged open on the end of his sentence. A man tumbled out wearing one shoe and rushing to do up his pants. “Where’s the fire?!”
“Let me help you, sir,” Sinjin said, jogging up. “If y
ou go right this—”
Sinjin slammed his skull into the wall. He stopped his shrieking with a knife to the throat. “I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy this more than usual.”
Four keys hung on the ring. I tried them on the door he came out of. The lock gave in to the second key.
“Hello?” I called. “Don’t be scared. I’m not here to hurt you. You’re safe now. I’m getting you out of here.”
I entered the hotel room, treading softly on the carpet. A messy bed met my eyes. Then that other shoe. Stepping around the dresser, a tiny face peered at me from the corner.
The phantom hands took hold of me. Grabbing, twisting, ripping, tearing, twisting until my eyes held the despair reflected in his. As I gazed at the state of the room and the helpless child cowering within, a hard pit of hatred lodged in a corner of my soul where it couldn’t be removed.
Clarity dawned on me bright and steadying, revealing the way forward, and at the end of my path was a creature of heaven and hell more terrifying than Sinjin Bellisario could ever be.
“Hi, sweetie,” I said gently. “I’m going to take you some place safe, okay?”
Louder, I called, “There’s a little boy in here, Saint.”
I crouched down. “Ready to go?”
He let me fold him up in my arms.
I helped him dress and carried him out. I draped my hair over his eyes to shield him from the last look at his abuser. I faced him at the wall.
Sinjin hauled the whimpering scum over the threshold.
His knife flashed, cutting a graceful arc through the air. A red line appeared on his neck. Blossoming into rivulets of painted waves.
I watched him die, and the creature unfurled her wings—waking to bestow judgement.
He stumbled over his feet and dropped out of frame. Sinjin let the door swing shut on his body.
She named it just.
“There’s no fire,” I said. “We’ll go down in the elevator.”
Door to door, Sinjin and I coaxed the kids out of the rooms and into the elevators where Brutal and an assembly line of Merchants were waiting to lead them to the vans.
Mercer’s homework was arranging the transport. He was also in charge of arranging a safe place on the other end. These children, teens, and runaways who did not live here as willingly as Corbin claimed, trusted that place was for them.
“Take this blanket. It’ll be okay.” I draped it around the girl’s shoulders.
“Where are we going?” asked the small voice.
I led her out, murmuring about the warm bed, food, and safety waiting for her far from this gilded prison.
The elevator dinged open. Saint blocked the door, waving the kids through. I sent her to him and made for the final room in the hallway.
Opposite me, the exit to the east hallway creaked open.
Time slowed.
A bald head covered with ink stuck itself inside.
The bartender.
As if in delayed motion, I watched his face crumple in a frown, then blow apart in outrage as the city inspector led his charges into an elevator.
I saw this, but Sinjin didn’t.
Sinjin stood equal to us both. Too far for even my scream to reach him in time. To warn him of the threat, push him to cover, or for him to respond with the swift lethalness that made my angel invincible.
Face twisting, the lone King yanked out his gun, and I fired.
A scream ripped from my throat—ringing above the shrieking children.
My first bullet struck true. It clipped his shoulder, spinning him to the threat he hadn’t noticed. He fired and a splintered hole materialized in the doorframe inches from my head.
I emptied the clip. Seeing him jerk and twist was an act I couldn’t connect to myself and my finger squeezing the trigger.
Tipping into the hall, he crashed to the floor.
Dead.
“Bunny.”
The creature released her hold, abandoning me to the ringing in my ears, cold grip in my palm, and Sinjin’s shining reverence to the warrior priestess.
I flung the gun away from me.
“Saint—”
He shoved me against the wall and stuck his tongue down my throat. The kids were safely down the elevator. It was just him, me, and the man I killed.
I broke away gasping. “No, Saint! I can’t— I can’t believe I—”
“You’re fucking incredible.” He pushed me back, cupping my whole face in his hands. “And you’re mine.”
There was a finality in his words that silenced me. It muffled the small part of Adeline Redgrave that still existed—for both she and I knew with absolute certainty that with this act my fate was sealed.
I was his.
SINJIN, MERCER, AND I evacuated the final floor.
I lifted the last child into the van and buckled him in. Mercer drove off with a parting honk, leaving me and Sinjin behind.
We moved quickly. Cleaning up the discarded uniforms, tool bags, gloves, and then walking out the door.
We were a couple striding arm in arm down the street as the wailing sirens and cops blew past.
I BRUSHED THE CLOTH over his chin and caught on his stubble. Sinjin bent his head back, allowing me to continue the journey down to his throat.
Wringing out the wash cloth, pink water dripped into our sudsy bath. I continued my task—cleaning the blood off him.
“You haven’t asked,” I murmured.
Sinjin thrust his hips, driving deep inside me. My cry bounced off the porcelain.
“Asked what?”
“If I’m okay.”
He flicked his tongue over my nipple. “You’re riding me, Bunny. If you’re not okay, hop off.”
I was riding him, and I couldn’t seem to stop. Sinjin filling me whole was the only thing anchoring me as we bathed in the blood we spilled.
“I killed a man, Saint. You haven’t asked if I’m okay.”
“Am I supposed to?” Moving to the other nipple, he met my dips to his thrusts.
“Saint,” I breathed—part remonstration, part moan.
His hair was silken webs between my fingers. Hot, flushed, and hazy, I held him close.
“What was the alternative? The guy would’ve blown my brains out. Could you have lived with that?”
I tightened on him, and drew a groan through his teeth.
I could not have lived with that. In the core of my being, I knew I’d have killed every King in that building rather than let them have Saint.
“No.”
“There is no moral crisis. You did what you had to do, and what you would do again. Don’t probe further. Do not ask yourself if you’re okay. You are.”
“Say it,” I whispered.
He didn’t ask me what.
Sinjin licked my lips, snaring them in his trap. I’d make no more requests of him that night.
Together, we sank below the water.
“—POLICE DON’T KNOW WHAT to make of the scene they uncovered last night at the Castian Hotel,” stated Marcia Stupple. “Seventeen bodies were found on the premises. Of the deceased, Congresswoman Veronica Kenzie, tech mogul Case Leonard, and Alvin Brown, founder of Brown Manufacturers were identified among them.”
Mercer, Brutal, Cash, Sinjin and I watched the news in rapt silence.
“In the meantime, across the city, almost fifty people—majority of them minors—were taken to St. Lucie’s hospital where the hospital administrator was prepped and ready to receive them. All claim they were prisoners inside the Castian. Held against their will and subjected to horrors at the hands of their captors, and the hotel’s guests alike. They say they don’t know the men and woman who rescued and delivered them to the hospital, but they thank them for saving their lives.”
Sinjin picked up his phone. I didn’t try to stop him this time.
Angelo skipped the preamble. “I expected your call much sooner.”
“Sorry for the wait,” Sinjin said. “I was tying your last gift up in a bow.”<
br />
“You killed my people.” It wasn’t a question. “Exposed Corbin’s extracurricular activities. And you made it look like it was done by the Kings.”
The last part was true. Corbin’s cameras had cameras, and though they couldn’t see our faces, they had no trouble picking out the strategically placed golden crowns on our necks, shoulders, hands, and biceps.
What police would make of the kidnappers and child traffickers slaughtered by their own people, who then turned around and saved the captives was their business. Either way, someone would answer for this news story breaking on every channel, and the cops had the Kings going backward and forward.
Most importantly, the children were safe. The phantoms had gone.
I could breathe.
“You’re welcome.”
“Forgive me if I suspend my thanks,” Angelo said. “Leonard, Brown, and Congresswoman Kenzie were valued customers of mine. To my other valued customers, it appears as though I cleaned house with no thought to who was caught in the crossfire. Or worse, I don’t have control over my people and they’re running around slaughtering each other. I’ve lost ten important clients today alone.
“I will say this, Sinjin, leader of the Merchants, the job done on James & Co. Jewelers and the one you pulled last night is a child’s scribbles compared to the Mona Lisa. I’ve paid for the insult of believing you responsible for that shoddy work, and now you have my full attention.”
“Then, listen close.” Sinjin leaned forward, bumping me off his lap. “The war on your customers, clients, and businesses stop when I get a few things from you.”
“What would that be?”
“Your gang, money, and territory—”
Laughter poured out of the speaker.
“—and Kieran.”
The sound ended so abrupt I thought the call dropped.
“We’ll discuss the mercies I’ll grant you in person.” Angelo’s hiss slithered up my spine. “One day very soon.”
Click.
“Kieran?” I spoke up. “Who is that?”
“Hold on.” Sinjin dialed another number. “Diego. Tonight. You’re on.”
With that, he hung up.
“On for what? What’s going on?” I swung my gaze from guy to guy. “Seriously? Are we still keeping the maid in the dark?”