Misted (Team Zero #5) by Rina Kent

I shake my head. “You’re hopeless.”

“Just like Hawk?”

I thin my lips. Why does everyone need to shove him down my throat? I've been all consumed by him this couple of weeks without anyone's interference.

When I say nothing, Flame throws all my organised paperwork around just because chaos is his thing. “I’m curious about what happened fifteen years ago. One day, you were disgustingly all over each other, and the next you were at each other’s throats. Not to mention the ‘you don't exist’ stunt you’ve been pulling on each other since then. I’m willing to do you a favour for free if you tell me the story.”

I laugh despite myself. That's some commitment if he doesn't plan to ask for a favour in return. “Since when do you like stories?”

He lifts one ginger eyebrow. “Since they sound kinky.”

“They’re far from that.” I stare at my phone again. “They’re tragic.”

“Never mind then.” He hops down from the desk and throws over his shoulder. “But don’t make Hawk hate you, he might and will hurt you.”

Already done.

“He has lots of crazy underneath that silence,” Flame continues. “Especially after torture at The Pit fucked up his mind.”

I straighten, my breathing deepening. “What do you mean?”

“He’s not the same. Something happened to him in there and he’s hiding it well, but I'll find out like I always do. Let me know if you need that favour.”

“Yes. Keep me updated about whatever you find.”

“Copy that.”

My head falls against my fist again. Sure Hawk appears more different than ever, but what the hell happened to him in The Pit?

The door barges open before I can probe Flame for more.

Shadow storms inside, his shoulders squared and his tiger sleeve tattoos snarling. It's like he's bulldozing into the ring for a fight. Scar saunters behind him in pastel green shorts and flip-flops. Her T-shirt today reads ‘I eat Demons for Breakfast.’

Shadow’s murderous expression meets mine. “What the hell were you thinking, old hag?”

I stand and cross my arms. I’m in no mood to bicker with Shadow.

Flame remains standing, too with a hand in his jeans’ pocket. He sure loves the drama.

“The man you broke his arm the other night is a chief secretary of the bloody state.” Shadow bites out.

“And?” I tap my arm.

“And we don’t fucking deal with politicians. He’s coming at you with everything he has. We don’t only have Hades and rivals up our arses but the Met Police, too. This is the perfect opportunity to crack down on us."

"He almost raped Jessica," I announced as coolly as possible.

"You could’ve just kicked him out, not break his fucking arm and crack his ribs.”

“His kind only understands strength. Don’t worry. I’ll silence him.”

“No, you won’t. He’s already making a big deal out of the assault and made a police report against you. If you kill him, all the fingers will be pointing in your fucking face.”

“The Met Police are freaking arseholes.” Scar clicks her tongue, meeting Shadow's metallic gaze. “Especially that troublesome lieutenant. You think Elle and Zoe will be very upset if I kill the arsehole?”

“I don’t like him that much either.” Shadow glares. “But don’t even think about it. He’s their foster brother.”

“I’ll make it look like an accident?” She bargains.

“Ha. Does that include a blood bath or not?” Shadow barks. “Could’ve fooled me, psycho doll.”

“Pssh. Fine.”

“I deleted security footage and all witnesses.” I interrupt them. “That scum politician has nothing that will guarantee a warrant.”

“Let’s fucking hope so.” Shadow saunters to the cabinet, unclasps a bottle of scotch and drinks straight from the bottle. I don’t remember the last time he used a glass like a normal human being. “This day just keeps getting weird.”

Flame’s body angles towards Shadow. “What happened?”

Shadow gulps down more of the amber liquid. “Do you remember Nero?”

I stagger backwards, almost falling. Thankfully, the desk stops me. I clutch the edge with cold sweaty fingers for balance. My heartbeat pounds through my ears. Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Ooh, the guard?” Scar snaps her fingers with an edge of enthusiasm. “He was a sadist. Taught me my best torture moves!”

“And Hades’ Chief of Guards.” Flame retrieves a cigarette and twirls it between his thumb and forefinger. “One of the first founders of The Pit.”

“Do you guys remember how he just disappeared?” Shadow licks the alcohol glistening on his lips. “I always thought he was dead in some hole.”

“But?” Flame stuffs the cigarette in his mouth and keeps it hanging.

“But I just heard he’s alive. I mean after more than fifteen years? That’s insane.”

I suck in a stuttering breath, unable to remain standing and snap. “Who’s spreading such rumours?”

“The hell is wrong with you, old hag?”

“Answer me!” My voice raises.