For once, probably the first time, Kylan didn’t follow Sky underground and to her platform. Didn't watch to see her get on her train, confirming she was on her way out of the city. He let her go, standing at the top of the stairway entrance as commuters and pedestrians jostled by him, rushing about their day like he wasn’t in their way.

Resignedly, but with little other choice, Kylan turned and headed for the apartment. He didn’t get far when the burner phone he used for work vibrated in the pocket of his jeans. Turning off the busy sidewalk onto a narrow back road, Kylan tugged the phone out of his pocket and answered, not bothering to look who was calling him on a Sunday. It could only be one person.

He said nothing, waiting for sound from the other end of the line first. The hum of traffic tapered into background fuzz the deeper Kylan walked along the back road, sticking close to the brick buildings and dumpsters, pulling himself deliberately out of sight.

“Come into the club. Fifteen minutes.” That was all Razor said before the line went dead.

It sounded ominous enough, but Kylan didn’t really have a say in the matter. He was mapping out the quickest route in his head before he’d even lifted the phone from his ear. It wasn’t just Sunday, it wasn’t even mid-morning yet. Razor might not keep standard office hours like most of corporate America, but Kylan couldn’t remember a time he’d been needed for a job before sunset. The idea he was needed now, on such short notice, sent a trickle of nerves to his gut. He had plans today. Important ones. Now it looked like those plans would have to wait.

Kylan made it to the club with three minutes to spare. The lone bouncer nodded once at Kylan, pulled open the door and let him inside. The main floor was free of dancers and patrons, the ceiling lights turned to bright. A bartender shuffled around behind the bar, restocking the liquor shelves. A small cleaning crew vacuumed and wiped down tabletops. Raze was nowhere in sight, or at least Kylan thought he wasn’t.

Through the obnoxious reverberation from the industrial vacuum cleaner, a male voice commanded, “Up here.”

At first, Kylan thought he was hearing things, the vacuum being dragged over the carpets tampering with rationality, creating extra sounds that weren’t there.

He looked up, to the upper-level balconies on the wing. He didn’t immediately see anyone, but he was sure that was where the voice had come from. Strolling over there, Kylan took the steps two at a time, not wanting to waste any of Raze’s precious time. Who the hell knew what kind of mood he was in this early. Kylan had once heard Razor ironically boasting he spent his Sundays attending church. Every Sunday, no exceptions.

Reaching the balcony, Kylan lifted his head, his face mask still secure around his mouth and nose. His eyes froze on the two people over at one of the booths in front of him. Before the shock of what he was witnessing registered in his expression, he cleared whatever look had settled in his eyes and pressed on, moving his gaze away from the girl and focusing on Razor.

In a toast, Razor lifted his glass of amber liquid at Kylan, the corner of his mouth tilting up into a slick grin. “Kylan.” Razor’s sharp gaze slid sideways, to the girl he was busy entertaining. “Beauty, isn’t she?”

The girl swallowed, her blue-eyed gaze coasting from Kylan to Razor in what looked like genuine fear. Nothing like the other girls and women Razor brought around the place. This girl knew whatever promises, whatever flowery words of bullshit Razor had whispered in her ear to get her here, he was not going to make her life better or imrove it in any way.

Not Kylan’s problem.

“You got something for me?” Kylan asked, avoiding Razor’s earlier question. He was aware of the girl’s wide-eyed stare on him. A silent plea for him to get her out of there? Kylan wasn’t her answer. She’d have to figure it out for herself. She was dumb enough to end up in Razor’s orbit, so she’d better wise up enough to get herself out of it.

Like he’d never heard Kylan speak, Razor slipped his arm around the girl’s waist on his lap and pulled her toward him, inhaling the skin at her neck, his eyes closed. At least this one was dressed. Although, not like that was really saying anything. A short denim skirt, summer sandals, and a too-tight, smiley face tank top. If Kylan had to guess, she was fifteen at the most. Thirteen at the youngest, because these days he couldn’t tell the difference. She might just be the youngest, most innocent, female he’d seen inside The Cage, though.

“What is that?” Raze hummed into the crook of her neck, treating himself to a second, deeper, inhalation of her clean, peachy skin. “Baby powder?”

Kylan looked away, his stomach souring.

He could leave. He could always just fucking leave. The city was a stop-off point to him. A midway marker. But the money wasn’t optional. The time bought while he figured shit out wasn’t optional.

The girl yelped quietly. When Kylan looked back at them, Raze had a chunk of her dark blond hair in his fist, the girl’s head tilted on a funny, painful angle. Pitching his voice into a low, threatening hiss, Razor said to her, “When I ask you a question, remember to answer me next time.” When the girl said nothing, clamped her eyes shut, a tear rolling down her cheek, Razor yanked on the hair wrapped around his fist, snapping the angle of her head even lower.

“Yes,” the girl said, her mousy voice shaking. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

Not sure how much more of this he could stand to watch, Kylan boldly stated, “I’ll come back.”

Before he could leave, Razor loosened his fist around the girl’s hair. Slipped back into his chameleon skin and decided to play nice again. The girl quickly wiped her tears. She might be young, and only now just realizing the terrible mistakes she’d made, but she was a quick learner.

“Wait for me in my office.” Raze spoke to the girl, but he was looking at Kylan. He dismissed her with a small shove at the base of her spine, removing her from his lap. She scurried off toward the stairs, tucking her shoulders into her body, making herself smaller, invisible, and gave Kylan a wide berth. “That address you wanted,” Raze said. He picked up his drink from the table and swallowed a mouthful. “Why is it important to you?”

Kylan should have expected this. Expected the delayed, second-degree grilling to earn what was rightly his.

“I can’t say.” He pushed his hands deeper into his pockets, his knuckles throbbing to clench.

“Can’t say, huh?” Razor sipped on his drink, eying Kylan. Calculating. “Pity.”

“Is it?” Kylan hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but the thought that Razor had the information he had asked for, and it was within reaching distance, pissed Kylan off. Unhinged him.

Raze watched Kylan with a calm look of delight meant to unsettle. He was pleased about something, only Kylan wasn’t sure what. Kylan had seen this expression on him. Usually right before the moment he inflicted unbearable pain onto someone, or doled out gory instructions for someone else to do it.

That demented glint in Raze’s coal eyes dulled, his drastic switch in emotions chilling. “Tell me why I should give it to you.”

Kylan chose not to speak, because he wasn’t telling Razor anything. Not a single fucking lick of information. He’d find other ways to get to Mittle Samson. It would hold him back and delay the process, but he’d half been prepared for that.

Ray sighed. “You know, when you came to me the other night, asking for a favor…” He shook his head, almost wistfully. “To be in my position and control my men, to lead an army, and at the same time command respect and fealty, there can only be one alpha. Only one of us running the show.” Ray shrugged one shoulder. “Sometimes that means leverage. Something I don’t feel like I have over you.”

Kylan narrowed his eyes.

“Until now, of course.” Ray stood, bringing his drink with him to stand at the railing overlooking the rest of the bar. “I did some digging of my own. Hope you don’t mind.”

Kylan had given Ray exactly what he wanted. Power. Over him.

“I don’t feel comfortable just handing this over.” Ray sipped his drink, one hand slung casually into the pocket of his gray slacks.

Kylan finally tugged down his bandana. He felt if he didn’t, he might suffocate. “You’re asking for insurance?”

Ray turned his head to look at him. “That depends. Can you provide any?”

“Have I ever not shown loyalty to you? Do I not do everything you ask me to, no questions?”

Ray grimaced, taking his hand from his pocket and snapping his fingers. He pointed an accusing finger at Kylan. “There. That’s it.” He knocked back what was left of his drink. “You’re too brazen. There’s something just not quite…” Ray snapped his fingers softly this time, searching for the right explanation. “You don’t need me, do you?”

Kylan’s answering bold stare made Razor smile. His eyes tapered to wolfish slits. “No. You don’t need me at all.”

Kylan didn’t need Razor, but he damn sure needed that address. “Whether you believe it or not, I need this job.” It was only half a lie.

Time moved slow for a while. Kylan couldn't afford even one wrong move at this point.

Razor slipped his hand back into his pocket, re-emerging with a USB drive wedged between two fingers. “It’s all on here.” He held up the device between him and Kylan. Tugging it from within reach when Kylan moved to take it, Raze warned in a low voice, “However deep you intend on digging into this rabbit hole, just know I’m only one step behind you. Look over your shoulder and mine will be the first face you see. Is this going to affect my business in any way?”

Finally telling the truth, Kylan replied, “No. It won’t affect you at all.” Because despite what Ray believed, the sun and the moon didn’t orbit around him. He was just a stepping stone.

Ray released the USB into Kylan’s possession. “Now that that’s over with, I’ve got a job for you.” That devious glint in his eye sparked like someone had taken a match to his obsidian irises. “A big one this time. Prove to me how loyal you really are.”