Ghosted (Team Zero #3) by Rina Kent

“Misty...” Kyle whines. “Help me convince Godfather to stop being a softie and –”

“He’s dying!” She thrusts a phone in my face on which there’s a short video on loop. Hawk – or who I assume is Hawk – is chained to the ceiling of a white room in The Pit. He’s all bloodied, face swollen, and bare chest slashed. He’s hardly recognisable. Blood rivulets drip down his body and pool by his limp feet.

My jaw tightens. Fucking Hades. He keeps sending these to Mist knowing exactly what chord he’ll be striking.

“He’s fucking dying!” she shouts, then her voice dims to a whisper as if only saying the words to herself. “He could be already dead.”

“He’s not.” I clutch her shoulder, trying to console her even if I have no idea how. “He’s strong, Mist. He’s Hawk.”

Her eyes shoot my way, and they’re about to turn into the colour of her hair. She slaps my hand away and for the first time in ever, Mist swings her fist and punches me in the face. The gesture hurts more than the actual blow. Mist doesn’t punch me. Mist is my right hand, but maybe that’s not the case anymore.

“This is the final warning, Ghost. If you don’t do anything, I will.”

I tighten my teeth so hard, my jaw ticks. “Maybe you already have.”

“Maybe.” She gives a pointed look then storms out.

“Well, that went sour,” Kyle says after watching the exchange intently. “I told you that Mist isn’t to be reckoned with, Godfather.”

I’m beginning to learn.

“Rest well.” I leave his room and head down the hall. My steps are calm, but a war is raging inside me.

I could’ve handled anything except the possibility of Mist and Shadow’s betrayal.

With a sigh, I retrieve my phone and check the warehouse’s security feed. I planted a secret camera in there. No one knows about it except for me.

Vladimir reported some strange activity at night. Meetings. Smuggling. I’m not sure. I don’t even trust Vladimir that much, but I have mutual respect with Nikolai, his Pakhan in the Bratva back in New York. He assured me that if any of his Bratva participated in attacking me, he’d do the honour of slaughtering them. Nikolai is a man true to his word from all the years I dealt with him. He only wants me to be his hitman again – because Ghost was efficient and well, a ghost. No one could find any evidence. But Nikolai would never endanger my wrath by attacking my turf. He’s not stupid.

So, when Vladimir reported the strange activity near the warehouse, I sprang to action without anyone’s notice.

I installed a camera to gather evidence. So far, there hasn’t been anything.

I dial Shadow so we can work on the factory. His phone is turned off. I try Mist’s office. Neither of them are there. Only Flame is slumbering on the sofa, his head resting on his crossed forearms.

“Have you seen Shadow?”

Flame doesn’t open his eyes when he says, “Went with your girl. What was her name again? Emma... something.”

My shoulders stiffen. “Elle.”

“That’s the one.” He yawns. “Seemed urgent.”

I’m running towards the safe house before I know it. Tension ripples through my back and my vision reddens.

Shadow better not act on his threats and do any funny business to Elle. I don’t even want to think about what I’ll do if he hurts her.

I’m at the threshold when steps sound from inside. I recognise the swift, fast footsteps as Elle’s. No one is with her.

She strides out of the door. Her expression is closed and numb as if she’s tucked herself somewhere and is only showing the surface.

She’s wearing shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt, and it’s fucking cold. But she doesn’t seem to care or notice.

She continues her path, brushes past me, and doesn’t say a word.

“Elle?”

She shows no sign of hearing or seeing me and keeps marching forward as if on auto-pilot mode. That’s so disturbingly similar to the Omega version I’ve been fighting all this time.

“Elle!” I clutch her arm and draw her to a screeching stop. I try to make her face me, but she’s wiggling free. She even throws random punches with no sense of focus or aim.

“What happened?” I cage her face with one hand and bore my eyes into her dead, blue ones. “Did Shadow do something to you? Where is he?”

“He left. I think.” Even her voice’s on auto-pilot. I want to shake her and bring out the firefly I know is lurking inside.

“Talk to me, Firefly. What is it?” I tilt her head up so those mesmerising eyes are staring at me. Only now, they’re washed. If whoever did this to her is a person, I’ll gut them and slice them into pieces.

“I have to go,” she says in a monotonous tone and tries to squirm free.

“Go where?” My tone is harsh even when I try to restrain it.

“I have to, Julian, please.” She meets my gaze and her bright blues fill with wretchedness and pleading. “She’s my family.”

That calms me a little. This must be related to the friend she mentioned the other day.

“I will drive you.” There’s no way in hell I’m letting her go on her own in the midst of all this danger.

The entire drive is spent in complete silence. For a thousand times, I contemplate reaching out and hugging her. But she’s too numb to care. She’s bottling too many emotions and they will ruin her if she doesn’t release them. If only I knew what’s going on.