“No such thing,” Kell said. “Must be a hallucination from Apollo.”
Duck squinted, his beady eyes nearly bugging out. “Why do I think you’re not telling me the truth?” His nearly concave chest puffed out somewhat, and he glared.
Kell lifted one shoulder. “Dunno.”
Pyro frowned. “When we agreed to a merger, we agreed to full disclosure except for sources of drugs and guns. You need us for the drugs.”
Daire shifted off the door. “You need us more.”
“He fucking can speak,” Duck muttered.
Daire turned his focus from Pyro to Duck, his gaze veiled, power all but cascading off his massive form.
Duck swallowed, and red climbed into his face. Finally, his gaze dropped to his fingers, which twitched on the table. “Whatever,” he muttered. While the moron had no clue witches existed, even his dulled instincts could probably sense a predator in the room.
Kell measured Daire’s mood, wondering at what point his oldest brother would decide to decimate the humans. Daire had a short temper, was fucking fine with that, and would have no problem erasing the problem and starting over.
Daire focused on Kell once again and lifted an eyebrow. For Daire, that amounted to a full blown conversation.
Kell nodded and focused back on Duck now that he’d been castrated by a Daire glare. “We’re in agreement that we do not kill police officers?”
Duck snorted. “I say we make a statement with that bitch, if you’re done with her.”
Actually, something whispered that Kell was nowhere done with the sexy Detective Alexandra Monzelle, human or not. “Bringing the full force of the police down on us right now would be a colossal mistake.” He aimed his statement at Pyro.
Pyro rubbed the silver goatee on his chin. “Agreed. For now.”
Duck sighed heavily. “Fine, but before we kill her, I want a shot at her.”
Kell barely kept his lips from twitching. Alexandra would probably quite easily cut off Duck’s dick and feed it to him if he made a move on her. “We just agreed we’re not killing her.”
“For now,” Duck said, his too thin upper lip curling. “I think you have a hard-on for the cop.”
“Are we done?” Daire asked, his tone strongly suggesting that they were, in fact, done.
Duck didn’t meet Daire’s gaze, but he did shift slightly toward his uncle. “We need to talk about the Grizzlies. They’re cutting into our gun trade, and rumor has it they have a hit out on you.”
“Your suggestion?” Pyro asked.
“War. Let’s make a statement,” Duck said, rubbing bony hands together.
Pyro eyed his other men. “Anybody agree with making a statement?”
Nobody moved.
Finally, Pyro shook his head. “We’re flooding the streets with new product and shouldn’t split our attention or our time right now by going to war with another club.”
Smart. Kell nodded.
While Pyro sampled the meth and drank more tequila than a liver could handle, there was no doubt the man had risen to power with sharp intelligence and the willingness to spill blood with no remorse. Did the man know his nephew would never lead? Not smart enough.
Sometimes family blinded a man.
Kell cut his gaze to Daire. Yep. About to incinerate the humans. They were getting nowhere with the conversation. So Kell stood. “I’m out.”
“Meeting adjourned,” Pyro said and shoved back from the table.
Kell pushed open the door and wound through the clubhouse to his bike waiting outside. Daire’s Ducati waited silently next to it, dark and somehow deadly. The Ducati had taken a bit of ribbing from the other club members, but as usual, Daire didn’t give a shit. He blended in by not trying to blend in, and always had.
Daire reached him. “Wanna ride?”
“Aye.” Kell straddled his bike, wanting nothing more than to feel the wind against his face.
“Is yer cop gonna be a problem?” Daire asked.
“Aye.” The pretty Alexandra was definitely going to be a problem, but how much of one, he wasn’t sure.
Daire’s face split in a rare—very rare—grin. “To you or to our mission?”
Kell paused and lifted his head. “Both.”
“This is a shitty idea, Lex,” Bernie muttered for the seventh time, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. They’d turned off the interstate long ago, and quiet forestland surrounded them.
She nodded. “I know.” Then she grinned at the man who was more father to her than the bastard who’d deserted her. “You trained me, buddy. What do you expect?”
Bernie shook his head. “I got four girls at home, women now, and you in my life. Pretty much five daughters. What the hell did I ever do to God?”