Ghosted (Team Zero #3) by Rina Kent

“Negative.” I form a steeple at my chin. “We released the tip about the old factory less than two months ago. If we repeat it, Hades will know for sure that this is an inside job. He’s testing us with this. We need to double the revenue for now and think of a way to make the new factory disappear.”

Shadow leans back against the leather. “We’re fucking assassins, not the mafia. We shouldn’t be doing any of this.”

“Once we’re off Omega and everyone is out, we will burn this whole place down.”

Until then, we’re stuck in Hades’ hell.





Shadow and I settle in Mist’s office in Le Salon. The soft red light highlights the vintage wallpaper and sixties’ style lounge area.

It’s our base for strategizing. No listening devices and no cameras.

Mist saunters from behind her desk to sit opposite us. She’s wearing a tight, long-sleeved black dress and red heels that match the colour of her tied hair and nails.

And blood.

Mist’s hair always reminds me of blood. Which isn’t good in my attempt to fight off Omega’s effects.

“Being the madam of this place is tiring.” She massages her neck. “Those girls bicker the entire time. I even have to interview a new one in a few.”

Shadow heads to the cabinet and pours us scotch. He offers each of us a glass before he takes his and sits down. His sarcastic tone is in full bloom when he addresses Mist. “Do they call you Mum yet? Or are you probably as old as their grandmother?”

“Shut up, filth.” Mist throws him a dirty look. “Don’t pollute my space with your voice.”

“Burn.” Flame’s dark ginger head peeks from behind the sofa. He’s probably been sleeping there the entire time. That’s his way of fighting Omega. He meets my gaze, his eyes are a glassy, pale blue. “Can I burn something?”

“Not today, Flame.” I sip my scotch.

Disappointment flickers across his face. “I sent you some stock profit.”

“Got it,” I say. He’s a genius with numbers and hacking into shady bank accounts. It helps to maximise profit by stealing from other trafficking organisations. He just has to do it in small doses to not alert Hades or make enemies from other mafias around the world. So, we can’t meet Hades’ double revenue unless the new factory starts producing.

That’s the last thing I want to do. I down half the glass of scotch.

Flame disappears behind the sofa. “Night, then.”

“Come drink with us, you daft!” Shadow calls, but Flame doesn’t even stir.

Mist’s eyes glaze as she sips from her glass. “Diablo loved drinking. Remember when he spent months in Scotland just to convince an old man to sell him his rare scotch?”

My chest tightens as I empty my drink. Diablo was a part of my family, but Omega took him away.

“Team Zero isn’t the same without him.” Shadow raises his glass. “To Diablo. Rest in peace, motherfucker.”

“To Diablo.” Mist and I echo.

Team Zero are the founding members of The Pit. We started as fifty teenagers. Omega killed thirty-eight. Those of us who survived trained the second generation and remained as Hades’ demons for decades.

Then, Diablo died without any symptoms. He was drinking with us and then, he dropped dead. After I investigated, it turns out that Omega destroyed him from within like stage five cancer.

It was a wakeup call to Team Zero. Or at least the five of us.

The rest are hostages at The Pit until we finish this mission. Hades knows Team Zero has always been my family and I will never abandon them. That’s why he only dispatched four with me. He knows I will return for the others.

“Where’s the birthday boy?” Mist asks. “Kyle is so popular amongst the girls, everyone wants to be his birthday present.”

Shadow laughs. “Probably shagging them as we speak.”

“Most girls are using him to get Ghost’s attention, though,” Mist amused gaze flickers to me. “Even with your secret identity, you draw attention. How about taking one, Julian?”

“No.” I have no room for distractions.

“Don’t listen to her.” Shadow slams his glass on the table, droplets splash all over. “She uses her girls to weaken and then attacks like a venomous snake.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” She points a finger at Shadow. “I would never use the girls.”

“You know who I’m talking about, old hag. Where is she?”

“Call me old hag again and I will paint the wall with your brains.”

“Would like to see you try, old hag. And stop glaring, the wrinkles are starting to show.”

My temples throb. No idea if the withdrawal symptoms are kicking in or if these two are causing it.

Or both.

Shadow and Mist are the closest to me, but they’re irritating as hell when they’re at each other’s throats.

I stand to pour myself another drink. They continue their back and forth.

“So noisy,” Flame mumbles in the background.

When I pass by the window, movement catches my attention.

Kyle, my disciple, my responsibility since I trained him in The Pit, and whom I consider a son, is draping his arm around a woman’s shoulder.

Not just any woman.