Black Collar Queen (Black Collar Syndicate Book 2) (32 page)

Bethania's hateful voice
carries against the otherwise silence of the landscape that surrounds them. She
says, “Funny that you will end up dying just like your mother did. Just like
your worthless bastard brother did. And it's damn funny that you and my traitor
of a daughter will die together, just like your slut mom and her piece of shit
father.”

The thug raises his foot
above the board again, and the tension is palpable. A moment in which Emma is
sure that her mother is pulling the trigger on that goddamned .45. She screams,
“Nooooo!”

And she throws herself
into the pool.

Seth screams the same
exact thing, and the splash captures Bethania's attention, for she has yet to
give the command to her thug to finish Emma. Seth grabs the opportunity and
jerks his face out of her line of fire. His body is a searing collective of hot
pain, but the rage that has been boiling beneath his surface carries him
through the movements. By the time Bethania realizes she has taken her eyes off
of Seth, she fires into the concrete.

Rama curses. He was
seconds from burying a bullet in Bethania's head, but he throws his guns on the
ground and launches himself from his cover and into the water without a second thought,
too fast for the thug by the diving board to realize what's happened.

The air explodes into
gunfire. Aleja buries eight bullets from her twin Eagles into the chest of the
thug at the end of the diving board. The other goon returns fire in her direction,
and she's forced to duck behind the corner of the pool house.
 

A burst of rounds sounds
inside the house, and a volley. Someone screams.
 

Instinct trumps senses
as Seth grabs Beth's wrist with his left hand, and adrenaline defeats pain as
he aims away from himself when she fires again. He lunges into her ankles,
feeling them bend unnaturally in those damn stilettos. She screams, and he
hears joints crack. Moments later, she hits the patio, and the back of her
skull bounces. She makes a sickening, strangled cry of pain.
 

The icy water is like a
blow to Rama's lungs. The deep breath he grabbed on the way into the water
seems to leak from him much too quickly. Though he wills his limbs to move,
they are so heavy. Momentum carries him, though, deeper into the freezing
water, all the way to Emma's sinking form. Damn that momentum; it carries them
both to the bottom, but still he manages to wrap his arms around her, as his
eyes feel like they will turn to ice. His lungs are already burning, and she is
so limp, so heavy in his arms. He beseeches the Buddha, as he puts every last
ounce of energy he has into springing them toward the surface with his
legs.
 

The wood of the pool
house explodes beside Aleja's face as she squeezes off two quick rounds at the
remaining thug. The blast burns her, knocks splinters into her face, and she
ducks back again. The thug grunts, a bullet lodging in his midsection.
 

Seth scrambles upright,
still holding Beth's wrist. She fires again, but the bullet buries itself in
the side of the house. The remaining Mikie loyal swivels his attention from the
pool house and trains his gun on Seth. He fires once, and the bullet ricochets
off the concrete to graze Seth's unmolested cheek. He jerks back, stumbles, and
falls beside Bethania.
 

 
Tinney steps out of the darkness of the house,
levels his gun on the remaining thug, and buries two bullets in his head, and
Seth twists, searching for Emma.

Rama surfaces, Emma in
tow. He sucks in a shallow breath, mouth ducking into the water so that he
sputters. He does his damnedest to make his body move them toward the side of
the pool, but he can barely keep them afloat.

Aleja rushes from the
pool house, eyes wildly searching the patio. It takes her several long moments
to find a flotation device. She tosses the ring into the water so that it lands
directly beside Rama. He hooks an arm around it, just as he stops moving. She
pulls him toward the edge until she can reach him, grabbing his other arm, and
hooking his freezing fingers on the edge of the pool. She yells, “Hold on,
Rama!”

Emma's eyes are closed.
She may not be breathing. Aleja anchors herself and heaves Emma up out of the
water. It takes her several heaves to pull the dead weight out of the pool, but
finally she collapses backward with Emma's unconscious form. She rolls so that
Emma falls to one side, and shoves forward, just in time to see Rama's arm
disappear over the edge of the pool. She lunges forward, plunging her arm into
the water. Her fingers grasp a fistful of his shirt, just in time, and she
pulls him upward. Fast Spanish pours from her as she wrestles him to the
poolside – a litany to all the angels and the Virgin Mother to aid her. He's
drawing faint breaths, so she leaves him just for the moment.

She draws her buck knife
from its lower back holster, and turns to Emma. The young Morgan is so pale,
beyond her normal pallor. So . . . lifeless. A mass of bruises and restraint
and fury claims her, calms the frantic movements of the assassin. Aleja
carefully slips the end of her knife under the rope that restrains the Morgan
queen. The fibers separate without protest, and the Reaper frees Emma's limp
body. The movements are second nature, ever collected, as she leans down and
presses a breath across Emma's lips, forcing air into her lungs.
 

Seth wrenches the gun
from Bethania's hand and rolls away from her. Old injuries and new ravage his
nervous system, but his vision has finally cleared. He sees Aleja with her lips
to Emma's, not at all like that first time. He sees Rama lying so still, and he
sees Tinney step up beside him. The old man reaches a hand down to him, and
Beth groans.
 

Tinney pulls him to his
feet without effort, and the light-headedness returns to him. His breath comes
quick and shallow. His vision spins as he tries to focus on Emma. Tears well in
his eyes. He simply cannot have endured all of this only to lose her. He can
hear Aleja muttering encouragement in Spanish between the breaths she gives to
Emma. Seth sways on his feet. Tinney steadies him with a hand on the back, and
the moment contact is made is the one that Emma gasps, then spits up water. Her
body shudders, and she moans.

The tears stream down
Seth's cheeks, relief running down his face like rain. The beach. Santa Lucia.
That calm was the result of endurance, of facing down the demons that haunted
him, and learning from the experiences his life had lain on him. Tonight, he
has endured much the same, and his faith in his true family—the one he has
built—has proven itself.

He looks down at Bethania's
still form. A dark red puddle is forming beneath her pampered hair, seeping
slowly outward, a rude contrast to the pale concrete. Her eyes are
fluttering.
 

Seth stares down, for a
long time, a mass of screaming nerves. And his left shoulder is a bundle of
torment as he lifts his arm to cradle the gun in his right hand. The rage,
though, is steady. The gun is an unfamiliar weight.
 

His voice is quiet,
lifeless, when he says, “I guess it's funny, that you will die the same way
your darling fucking son did. Bleeding out, all alone.”

He tosses the gun into
the water, and turns his back on his suffering aunt. Tinney stands his post as
Seth skirts the pool with a limp, to see to his cousin and his partner.
Bethania makes no indications of moving, and the blood just spreads toward
inevitability. Meanwhile, Seth flings Rama's arm over his shoulder and hefts
his weight. Aleja does the same with Emma.
 

Tinney watches the slow
procession for several moments, then he looks down in time to see Beth's eyes close.
His expression doesn't change as he turns away to go start the car.

Chapter 45.
Upstate New York. December 19th

Tinney
Blasts The Heat
in the car as he speeds down the driveway. His phone is in hand,
ringing to the medically equipped van they stationed several miles away. All he
says when the other end of the line picks up is, “We're on our way. Prepare for
hypothermic conditions.”

He glances in the rear
view mirror at the crowded back seat. Aleja and Emma are behind him, the Latina
working Emma out of her frozen clothing, both of them in the seat as Aleja
murmurs softly. Beside them, behind the passenger seat, is Rama, and Seth is
kneeling on the floorboard in front of him, gritting his teeth through the
pain.

Aleja wraps Emma's
shivering form in Seth's coat. Her red-gold hair clings to her shoulders, and
her head dips and bobs as she tries to hold it up. Her face is so bruised, and
her skin still so lifeless. She draws shallow breaths, and whimpers
occasionally.

Rama is more cognitive,
but his hands are shaking too much for him to work the buttons of his shirt.
His skin is a maze of chill bumps, and his hair hangs wet in his dark eyes.
Still, he watches the Morgan king knock his hands away, and rip the shirt open
with complete disregard for the buttons. A boyish, weak smile tugs at Rama's
lips over chattering teeth.
 

“What's so funny?” Seth
asks, a dark gleam in his eye, a serious set to his lips as he pulls Rama
forward by the arm. They lock eyes as Seth peels the frigid fabric off of Rama.

Rama's voice is so
quiet, heavy with remembrance when he says, “Your brother used to do the same
thing.”

Seth's eyes fly wide,
which hurts, and he freezes. Rama laughs, an impossibly young sound. Perhaps
he's delirious. Seth glances at Emma, but she seems to have slipped back into
sleep. Good; she doesn't need to hear Rama's nonsense mumbling.
 

Seth means to look back
to Rama, but he realizes Aleja is watching him too. Emma is curled into her
arms, her head resting against Riza’s chest, and she's rubbing Emma's arms to
warm her, her touch gentle. The Latina wears respect in that gaze, and perhaps
some dark shade of lust. It hurts his insides, that he's not the one offering
that comfort to his cousin. But the pain subsides at the thought that there are
people who truly care for her, who will protect her in his absence. His gaze
slips back to Rama, whose eyes have closed.

“Don't get fresh with
me,” Seth says as he pulls Rama's arm out of his shirt. It could be a joke, but
it's flat, toneless. It's not quite a warning either. Rama's body tips forward,
and Seth catches him by the shoulders before their faces collide.

“Shit!” Seth spits.
“Rama, wake the fuck up. Stay with me, goddammit.”

Rama jerks, and his eyes
crack open. Seth can barely hear him when he murmurs, “Don't have much of a
choice, do I?”

“Yeah, ok,” Seth says
just to keep the Asian's attention. Seth grabs Tinney's coat from the front
seat, and says, “You can be a dick since you saved Emma's life. Again. Help me
put this on you, will you?”

He guides Rama's arm
into the coat sleeve, slowly, to account for the shivering. That ridiculous
grin returns to Rama's lips, and he says, “I'll be a dick whenever I want,
Morgan.” His voice comes stronger, with a little heat. “You better fucking
believe it.”

The words surprise a
small laugh out of Seth. Fine, if shit-talking is what it takes to keep Rama
conscious, then fuck it. He smirks. “Not in my house.”

He buttons the coat,
squinting through a flash of pain in his temple. He leans Rama back against the
seat. When he does, Rama’s head falls back against the seat, and his hair
shifts out of his eyes. He levels his dark gaze on Seth's again. He says, “I'll
remember that when you're in
my
house.”

Seth pauses again, holds
the contact. He's serious when he says, “So will I.”

Then Rama glances
downward. He's still wearing his wet pants. Seth's eyes widen. A dick indeed.
And Rama laughs again when Seth makes a heavy sigh, then starts working Rama's
belt loose. He laughs, but he doesn't say anything else as Seth pulls the
slacks off of him. Seth doesn't speak either; he just keeps a steady hand on
the Thai so he doesn't pitch forward again.

Within minutes, they
reach the cove of trees and the waiting van. Seth climbs out of the car,
stumbles as his knees lock, and catches himself against the trunk of the car.
Two medics run to him immediately, trying to usher him toward the van. He
pushes them away and orders, “Get them first. Hurry!”

The medics scramble to
obey as two more rush to the other side for Emma. Seth leans back against the
car, watching as they transport Emma and Rama, the tension easing from him the
slightest bit. They'll be fine now, with a little help from modern medicine.

She will be fine.
 

Seth's fingers wander up
to his aching cheekbone, ghosting over the separated flesh and the dried blood.
He was so close, millimeters from catching a bullet to the face. Seconds from
Bethania pulling the trigger. Death is becoming like an old lover to him,
haunting him, brushing so close, stealing moments of his life and everyone he
loves. This time, it was too close. Not to him, but to his queen. He shivers,
the cold wind nothing compared to his dark thoughts.
 

Tinney walks up to his left side, watching the young king
carefully. He says, “You ok?”

Seth is silent for a
stretch, during which he can hear the voices inside the van. Finally, he says,
“I'll be fine.”

Tinney hands him his
phone. Seth dials the other crew they have waiting within miles. The cleanup
crew. The line picks up, and he says, his voice empty, “Burn it down.”