Black and Brown: Raven Assassins (Ravens #1)

Chapter Thirty-three

Mirage

Mirage almost felt sorry for Grace.

There was something heavy on his mind, and it seemed to have a lot to do with the two of them… not Meridian.

The Black Raven was an impressive, virile younger man with a sexy midnight aura hovering over his head like a storm cloud.

A force of atmosphere affecting anyone in his vicinity.

Mirage was more than grateful it hadn’t consumed his partner. If Grace said he didn’t want Meridian, he believed him. His partner was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar.

If Grace was feeling an inkling of what Mirage was, of what he had been for years, then this would be resolved tonight .

Once inside the blacked-out truck, he locked gazes with Grace and asked Driver, “Take us to Whispering Pines Park.”

“Yes, sir.”

Their transporter was known only as Driver. It was the name given to him by the agency.

Mirage knew he was a retired CIA spy with principles and confidentiality ingrained in him. Those were all the details they were given.

Traffic in the city was terrible. When they were three blocks from the park, he and Grace decided to walk the rest of the way.

There weren’t many pedestrians around this time of night. All the date hunters and barhoppers had already ventured downtown.

They walked arm in arm at a moderate pace with their hoods on, heads bowed, and their collars pulled up to their jaws.

In the day of such modern technology and surveillance on every street corner, it was impossible not to be seen, but it was possible to be unrecognizable.

Grace appeared more relaxed, and Mirage noticed the rise and fall of his broad chest while he breathed in the cool air.

Nestled in their comfortable silence, they approached an alley with the sounds of a scuffle filtering out onto the sidewalk.

Once they reached the entrance, the narrow pathway was too dark to see faces, but the silhouette of four men plus their victim was clear.

Slurred voices demanding payment of whatever debt was owed were followed by the sound of fists meeting flesh before grunts and moans of pain.

Grace stopped, his head still down, his jaw twitching.

Mirage shook his head at him.

He knew his partner wanted to intervene, unable to resist righting a situation. And whatever was happening down there in the dark was very wrong.

“We fight the fights we’re ordered,” Mirage reminded.

Another sequence of punches and kicks to the man on the ground polluted the once-clean air.

“Don’t,” Mirage hissed.

As Ravens, they were never allowed to attract unwarranted attention.

“If you can’t pay me, I guess I’ll have to collect what’s owed from that pretty wife of yours,” a sleazy voice taunted. “Then we’ll call it even.”

Mirage guessed that was Grace’s last straw because he pulled his leather gloves from his coat pocket and slid them on before turning down the alley.

Dammit, Grace.

Mirage fell in step behind his partner, moving as one being as he followed him deeper into the darkness.

The thugs were now feet away, still beating the shit out of a man huddled on the ground.

The one standing off to the side noticed them first, just in time for it to be too late. He and Grace were already on him.

Concealed behind Grace’s looming form, Mirage pulled three slender throwing knives from beneath the cuff of his sleeve and hurled one after the other under Grace’s arm while he pulled a silenced Beretta from his trench.

Rapid flicks of Mirage’s wrists sent two unseen blades whistling through the air.

The first knife grazed the man’s jaw, causing blood to flood down his chin.

Mirage made the second ricochet off the brick wall and strike the man’s forehead. Not with enough force to kill, but enough to open a gash that revealed flesh and bone. The third was thrown with such precision it severed the man’s ear.

It happened so fast that the bastard didn’t know which wound to clutch first as he dropped to the ground, releasing a cacophony of curses.

The other three started at the commotion and turned to see what the hell was going on.

With sinister composure, Grace slammed the butt of his weapon against the second one’s skull so hard Mirage heard a life-altering crack before the man fell face-first to the ground.

It was a blow that ensured he wouldn’t wake up for several days.

With two of his buddies down, the other turned and ran.

Grace ignored him. Runners weren’t his job.

To the thugs, Mirage was a living shadow.

He threw another blade over Grace’s shoulder that embedded into the back of the fleeing man’s leg, slicing through muscle and tendons.

He’d need a prosthetic to walk again.

Eyes wide, the one who’d issued the threat to violate another man’s wife was the last one standing.

The battered victim scurried across the ground and out of the way.

With his back against the brick wall, the piece-of-shit gangster raised his palms in surrender as if that would stop them.

Grace whipped his hand out and gripped four of the man’s fingers, snapping the bones like twigs, ensuring he’d never be able to punch anyone again.

Ignoring the yelling and crying around them, Grace aimed his peacemaker and fired.

The first shot grazed the thug’s ear, a whispered taunt of death before he lowered his Beretta to the bastard’s groin.

The threat of injury to that organ was many men’s greatest fear.

Under the sliver of moonlight, the man’s face turned ashen as he clutched his mangled hand, struggling through the pain and the unimaginable fear of what was coming next.

“Oh God. Please don’t…not there,” he begged. “Anywhere but there.”

“You threaten to rape another man’s wife, then call on God for mercy?”

Grace didn’t often speak to his victims, but when he did, his every word was laced with venomous intelligence.

The man was begging a Raven for mercy, a word no longer in their vocabulary.

The silenced Beretta whispered its deadly intent inside the dark alley. The bullet exploding from the chamber sounded like air itself being penetrated. It was a direct shot between the man’s dick and balls.

The sudden impact made the pervert’s eyes widen, reflecting the horror of realization.

It took a couple of seconds for his mind to catch up before disbelief marred his ugly face.

His scream was so loud and irritating that Grace slammed his fist into the man’s throat, crushing his larynx, making sure he could never utter such a threat again or be able to carry it out if he did.

Their target slumped to the ground and passed out.

Grace leveled a hard glare at the battered victim. A look into Grace’s eyes was all it took to send him crab-walking backward. The man would probably give his life over to God in the morning.

He and Grace left the alley without a second glance. They’d already be in the park enjoying their walk before the authorities and ambulance arrived.