Crossing Ties - Susi Hawke Page 0,27

also the first time I think I’ve heard a shifter excited to get the human cops involved.”

Patrick locked his chain together with a thick padlock. “You’d think with them attempting kidnapping and all, they’d be less excited about calling the coppers around.”

Mullet Man had been glaring and seething, cursing at us but not saying anything in particular up to this point. He suddenly squinted at Patrick. “Fuck, Benj. That one there’s an O’Malley for sure. Look at that red hair.”

Ah, we finally could sort out who was who. Benji was the tank top, so the mullet man was Micky.

“Just the red hair?” Patrick pressed a hand to his chest. “It’s not the devastatingly good looks I share with my da? Just the red hair? Rory, you’re lucky you don’t have to put up with this shit. Nobody ever looks at you and says, ‘Oy, that’s an O’Malley to be sure. Fiery hair, fiery temper.’ What, do they think every Irish man and lass with red locks is related? They forget all about the black Irish don’t they. I mean, look at my brother. Full on black sheep, isn’t he?”

River went to the table and started taking tools from his bag. First was a large pair of sharp and shiny scissors. “Poultry shears,” he said. He named each item as he pulled it from his bag. “Loppers. Bowie knife. Corkscrew. 13 gauge stainless steel guitar string.”

Micky’s face had gone blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who’s been kidnapped?”

River bent over, shoving his face almost nose-to-nose with Micky, an insane smile twisting his lips. “I like it when they play dumb.”

Micky didn’t flinch, but Benji shifted in his chair. “Hey, Mick. I dunno about this. We—”

“Should just keep our traps shut,” Micky barked. “They got nothing on us.”

Misha rubbed his hands together. “I can tell this is gonna be fun. Hold off on starting the fun without me, River, okay?”

“Anticipation is half the work,” River almost sang.

These motherfuckers were crazy. But I couldn’t help but like them.

Misha came back a few minutes later with a bucket full of popcorn. “Okay, I’m ready for the show. Come on, Patrick. Join the peanut gallery.” We cleared off a couple of buckets with lids as seats and sat back to let River work.

“Where to start?” River caressed a hammer, and then a scalpel. His hand wandered down the table before he drifted back to pick up the scalpel and examine it. “Do you know, I’ve never tried scalping anyone.”

Benji jumped in his chair and winced as the silver-threaded chains bit into his skin. “Scalping? What the fuck? This isn’t cowboys and Indians.”

“No, this is vigilantes and bad guys.” River turned the flat side of the blade toward Benji and caressed his cheek as the big guy tried to lean away.

“Interesting choice.” Misha crunched on a mouthful of popcorn. “I was expecting for him to go for something more intimidating right off the bat. Like the loppers. Take off a finger, let them know you mean business.”

Patrick shook his head. “No, mate. You’ve got to build the anticipation. Start small. You don’t want to blow your load on the first move.”

“You mean unlike you in bed?”

“Shove off, asshole.”

“Shut up,” Benji sputtered. “Stop talking.”

River turned the knife around and pressed the tip against Benji’s cheekbone. “Try not to flinch. I’m so very close to your eye.” He drew a thin line down the man’s face, ending at the top edge of his beard. Tiny droplets of blood welled and fell into the hair below. “They’ll stop talking when you start talking.”

Micky thrashed against his bonds. “We don’t fucking know anything.”

Misha offered me the popcorn and I shook my head. Blood and food really didn’t go that well together for me.

River hummed and turned his attention to Micky. “That’s what they all say. Maybe you’re just having a hard time remembering. Let me tell you some of what we know. See if that sparks your memory.” He slashed a harsh gash along Micky’s hairline. It bled more than Benji’s, the red drops cascading down over his left eyebrow and into his eye. “Huh. That looks kinda like the photo you took of those boys’ da.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” Micky continued to insist through gritted teeth. “I never kidnapped nobody’s dad.”

“Maybe not. Maybe it was your brother Benji here. But Wei Chen was very clear that the scent we followed was one of you two.”

Micky growled. “I shoulda known one of the Chens sicced