The Shadows (Black Dagger Brotherhood #13) - J. R. Ward Page 0,150

rude,” Assail said in a bored tone.

“You’re the second person to ask me something like that in the last forty-eight hours.” He kicked the guy’s fancy Italian loafers wide. “You got a problem with me, file a claim with human resources.”

“How corporate of you.”

Rhage straightened after he’d checked out that lower body. “FYI, Vishous, son of the Bloodletter, is our personnel contact. He prefers complaints that are made in person. Have fun with that.”

Done with the three of them, he walked over to the audience room’s closed doors, knowing they would follow. Opening things wide, he stood to the side and glared at the SOBs as they filed in, one by one.

“Assail,” Wrath drawled. “We’re meeting again.”

“And this time no bullets,” the drug dealer replied.

“Not yet,” one of the brothers muttered.

Assail’s eyes traveled over the assembled masses. “Quite a bit of protection you have here.”

Wrath shrugged. “I had a choice of collecting them or Hummel figurines. It was a toss-up.”

“To what do I owe the honor of a command appearance.”

“Rehv? Do the deed, since you know what you’re talking about.”

The sin-eater stepped away from the hearth and smiled like he was about to eat something. “We have reason to believe you’re participating in the drug market in Caldwell.”

Assail didn’t flinch. “I have never hid my business.”

“Ever see this before?”

When Rehv tossed a packet into the air, Assail caught the thing and looked it over. “Heroin.”

“The symbol is yours, isn’t it.”

“Says who.”

Rhage spoke up. “We found a number of those on a slayer at a club that happens to be owned by a friend of ours.”

Wrath smiled coldly as he reached down to stroke his guide dog’s blond coat. “So you can see how this puts us all in an awkward sitch. You’re using the enemy to disseminate product. Aren’t you.”

Again, Assail showed no reaction at all. “If I am, what’s the issue?”

“You’re funneling money into their pockets.”

“And…? So?”

“Don’t be fucking naive. How the fuck do you think they’re going to spend it.”

“Last night,” Rhage said, “we got caught in some cross fire between the Band of Bastards and some slayers. Guess what the undead were squeezing off? AK-forty-sevens. It’s the first major gun power we’ve seen in this city since the raids.”

Assail shrugged and put up his palms. “How does this have anything to do with me? I’m a businessman—”

Wrath jacked forward in the chair. “Your business is making it more dangerous for my boys. And that fucking cranks my shit, asshole. So your business is now mine.”

“You have no right to stop me.”

“If the three of you don’t make it out of here alive, I think that’ll be game-over, don’t you.”

On a oner, every single brother in the room outted a dagger.

Rhage braced himself for an explosion of some sort, but Assail remained cool as a cucumber. He didn’t fidget, didn’t blink, didn’t hem and haw.

Maybe the motherfucker had no central nervous system.

“What did you think was going to happen,” Wrath said, “when I found out. Did you think I was just going to let this really big fucking conflict of interest ride?”

There was a long period of silence.

Finally, Assail bowed his head. “Fine. I’ll stop selling to them.”

Wrath’s nostrils flared as he tested the male’s scent. A moment later, he said, “Good, now get the fuck out of here. But know if I find any of that shit on even one slayer, I’m going to come after you and not for the conversation.”

Rhage frowned, but as Wrath nodded to the exit, he opened the door and watched from the jamb as the three of them walked out, went for their potpourri of pistols and knives, and rectified their collective iron deficiency. Then they were out the door, and on the way off the property.

“He lied,” Wrath said grimly.

“Knew it was too easy,” Rhage muttered. “Why’d you let him go?”

“I want you to follow him.” Wrath nodded to Rhage and V. “The pair of you. If we kill Assail now, we can’t find his supplier and make sure that the Lessening Society loses all access to product. Follow that motherfucker, find out where he gets his shit, and then make it so the enemy doesn’t have anything else to sell in Caldwell.” The King shifted forward in his armchair. “And then put a bullet through the chest of each one of those three.”

“No problem, my lord.” Rhage glanced over at V, who nodded back. “Consider it done.”

FORTY-NINE

Moving quickly, but not too quickly, maichen whispered along the empty hallways of