Ghosted (Team Zero #3) by Rina Kent

I close my eyes and grit my teeth. The urge, the compulsion to spill blood is so strong. More drips of blood splash behind my lids.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

I’m not that person.

Not anymore.

I’m done being Omega’s marionette.

I’m done watching people I consider family die.

My lids snap open, and the red retreats from my vision.

Johnny’s fearful gaze meets mine, but he’s alive.

I fought Omega’s hypnosis.

Even partially.

I flick my wrist, and bones crack under my fingers.

Johnny howls in pain. Shadow smirks, still massaging his temples.

“That’s to remind you to keep your hands to yourself.” I drop his limp wrist and stand up.

We have to return to Le Salon before this gets worse. I won’t be able to control Shadow’s urges if I can’t handle my own.

Shadow staggers on our way out of the slums. I’m about to reach out and steady him, but he hates that.

We’re all fighting in our own way. There’s no room to pity one another.

“Are we drinking tonight?” he asks once we’re inside my car. “Alcohol is the only thing that will keep my head from ringing like a fucking ambulance.”

“It’s Kyle’s birthday.” I weave into the main street. “He’s hosting a private party in the club.”

“Thank fuck.” Shadow’s lips twitch. “Kyle is a lucky twat to know his age and even his birth date.”

We don’t because one of Omega’s side effects is retrograde amnesia. We hardly remember anything from our lives prior to being kidnapped into The Pit and made into killing machines.

I remember a few patches about meeting Shadow. We were maybe ten or eleven, and he was being beaten up by older thugs. Despite his big boxing body now, Shadow used to be a scrawny kid. I couldn’t stay put and threw a rock at the thugs. Shadow and I were then beaten together. Mist saved our arses by shouting police!

She’s always been the smartest amongst us.

The three of us have been a team since that day. That’s one of the few memories I have before Omega.

“It’s nice to have the little fucker as a way to count our age, though,” Shadow continues. “How old is he this year?”

“Twenty four.”

He scratches his head as if in deep thought. “He was taken in when he was what? Six?”

“Five.” My lips pull in disgust at the state he arrived in. Kyle was small and a crybaby and shouldn’t have been taken that young.

“You became his mentor back when we were about seventeen? So now, we’re probably thirty-five or thirty-six. The witch Mist is a lot older, though.”

“No, she’s not.” I shake my head. Shadow makes it his job to irritate the hell out of Mist.

“Wait a fucking minute.” His eyes widen. “Does this mean we’re approaching the coming of age crisis?”

“You mean midlife crisis?”

Shadow furrows his brows. “Same bloody thing.”

“No, it’s not.” But since he’s mixing idioms again, it seems that he’s better. No severe withdrawal symptoms. My shoulders relax.

The phone vibrates. A glance at the device, and my body goes rigid all over again.

Hades. The head of The Pit and our fucking hell.

All smiles vanish from Shadow’s face, too, as I click the in-ear piece.

“Ghost.” Hades’ cool, posh tone filters through the line. I can almost imagine him lighting his cigar and leaning back in his office’s brown leather chair. “Keep the firm up and running for a few more months. There have been complications. My friend will take some time to return.”

My grip tightens around the steering wheel. His friend, and one of his partners, Owen Green, is a scum who’s been caught by the police but needs his drug and illegal business sailing even while he’s behind bars.

A sum of money to Hades was all it took to send us over. He’d sell his and our souls to the devil for money.

Actually, he already has.

“Everything is well,” I say in the coolest tone I can manage.

As if Hades doesn’t have spies at my back. But as long as they keep out of my closest circle, Hades will know nothing about our plan.

“A new factory will open soon.”

I freeze. Fuck. I managed to get a tip to the Met Police and exposed the previous factory to avoid huge drug distribution in my district. I expected Hades and his partners to come back with a new factory, but I thought I had more time. How the hell did they manage this in less than two months?

“I expect the revenues to double by the end of the upcoming month,” Hades continues. “I’m keeping the rest of your colleagues as a guarantee.”

“But—”

The line goes dead.

The only reason Hades calls is to give orders. Others’ opinions don’t matter.

I draw the car to a screeching halt. I punch the steering wheel with so much force, pain shoots through my knuckles.

“Mate!” Shadow clutches my shoulder. “What the fuck does he want now?”

“Double revenue. Meaning double drug production and double sales.”

“Bloody hell. I can’t believe he got a new factory up and running so fast.” Shadow squints. “Can’t we destroy it?”