Behind The Hands That Kill (In The Company Of Killers #6)

Osiris shakes his head. “The blond I can accept,” he says. “Victor said you’d probably volunteer yourself, but he needs you here.”

Why isn’t Victor going after these people himself? If Izzy was my woman, I sure as hell wouldn’t leave this up to someone else; I’d hunt them into their graves. And why isn’t my brother here for this meeting, either? What the hell is going on?

Fredrik stands; he leans over slightly, propping the tips of all ten fingers on the table in front of him.

“It appears our leader is taking a leave of absence,” he says, practically reading my mind. “He’s leaving the most important mission of his life up to someone else; leaving his renegade brother in charge of his organization—such surprising and reckless actions can only mean one thing: Victor Faust has finally fallen. I wonder how long it’ll take him to get back up again.”

Leave it to Fredrik Gustavsson, the one person in the room most intimate with his demons, to know when another man has been defeated by his.

Fredrik leaves his chair and walks past us, heading to the exit. “I’m at your disposal, Niklas, whenever you need me for an interrogation,” he says, slowing his pace. “But please keep in mind my other duties, primarily with my current mission.”

I smirk. “Yeah, Fredrik, I’ll try not to pull you away from your weird fetishes if I can help it.”

“I appreciate it,” he says at the door, then pushes it open and leaves.

I turn back to Osiris, and everyone else in the room.

“OK.” I nod, thinking to myself. Then I pluck the cigarette from behind my ear, a lighter from my pocket, and set the end aflame. “Aside from me, the blond is the best operative in the First Division—”

“We both know which one us is the better operative,” Nora cuts in snidely, and I continue to ignore her.

I point briefly at the suit-clad woman.

“Agent O’Hara will be your second recruit,” I say. “And if something happens to one of them”—I grin at Nora—“then Agent Asthma over there can take her place.” I take a drag and inhale deeply, then say to Osiris with smoke in my lungs, “You said Victor hired you and your sister?”

Osiris nods. “Hestia,” he answers. “The only one of my family who I trust.”

“And this Hestia,” Nora inquires, leery, “is as willing and eager as you, to betray her own flesh and blood?”

“As a matter of fact she is,” Osiris says.

“And just how…capable is she?” Nora interrogates. “Better yet, how capable are you?”

Osiris grins, and licks his lips subtly. “Oh, I’m very capable,” he answers, though I get the feeling his answer has nothing to do with the mission. “I can assure you that, Miss Kessler, is it?”

Nora’s body movement shifts from rigid and untrusting to relaxed and interested. What the fuck is this, some kind of mating ritual?

“Why don’t you tell us more about this Artemis and Apollo,” I interrupt. “And hell, while you’re at it, you can tell us about you and Hestia, and everything else, too. I’d like to know exactly how we got to this moment, why Izabel ended up on the wrong end of a blade, and how my brother ended up falling from grace.”

Osiris spends the next thirty minutes telling us everything he knows: his history with my brother; Victor’s history with Artemis; what Victor told him happened in Venezuela—of course, this is all Osiris’s account; before I believe any of it I’ll need Victor’s account, too. And when the inevitable questions about Hestia arise, the devil hears us talking about her and she shows up right on cue.

“I’m only here for the money,” Hestia says as she struts through the room toward her brother—goddamn she’s beautiful. “Let’s get this out of the way first: I’m not here to be anyone’s friend, or partner—Osiris is my only partner. There’s nothing in my contract with Victor Faust that says I need to put my life on the line to save any one of you, if you step in shit too deep to pull yourself out of. I’m here to do a job, collect my cut, and then take my sweet ass back to Venezuela.”

Yeah, that’s a sweet ass, all right.

I glance at Nora, sensing that at any moment her claws are going to come out—though it has nothing to do with me; this room just isn’t big enough for two alpha females.

Nora walks toward Hestia, bold and fearless the way only Nora can be—this could turn out to be an interesting night. “Trust me,” Nora says, smirking, and crossing her arms, “I’m the last person here who would step in shit.” She moves closer to Hestia, stands just a foot away; there’s a dark smile in Hestia’s eyes that sends a slight chill up the back of my neck. And I kinda like it.

Nora continues: “I don’t do friends, either; and I won’t think twice about leaving you for dead, so I guess we understand each other perfectly.”

“I guess we do,” Hestia says, venomously.