The Finisher (Dark Verse Book 4)

Zephyr

THREE DAYS LATER AND she was still sore.

And her husband? He was pleased.

She frequently caught a self-satisfied look on his face, and now that his fear of breaking her had been passed over, she had to shove him away to let her pussy heal. With his stamina, he’d done a number on her.

She walked out to the deck, wincing slightly at the soreness, feeling exactly where and how deep and how hard he’d been with each step. The dogs—all except Baron who she was convinced just hated her—followed on her heels, trying to sniff her extra since the night, possibly because they smelled Alpha all over her.

Or maybe because she was nervous.

She was nervous because Dante and party were on their way from the airport and she wanted to give them a good impression unlike last time when she’d been lost and adrift. She was also extra nervous because her husband was going into the death ring to fight that evening, and even though he was cool and collected and completely relaxed about it, she wasn’t. She was terrified that he would die or get severely hurt and she didn’t want either of those options. Fuck reputations, her husband was more important. But he was also the leader in a pit full of snakes, and sending the right message was important not just for his reputation but for the safety of everyone associated with him. If there was one things she’d learned about this world from observation, it was that weaknesses were sniffed out and exploited until there weren’t any left. And she hated that but it was what it was and she had to make peace with it too.

She was also nervous because the serial killer who’d been framing Alpha had been silent since the Shadow Man meeting, and her husband believed it was the calm before a storm. Her gut agreed, and that made her nervous, nervous enough to consider bringing her family on the compound for safety even though they’d hate it. Well, except Zen. Her sister had fallen in love with the place. Maybe she could talk to Alpha and have her move into the guesthouse.

Later.

Pasting a smile on her face, she ignored the twinge and looked down at the stairs where the weekend guests were climbing up. After living at the compound for months, the vista and the forest had become home to her, and watching her guests faces and the awe on them, she was reminded of her first day climbing those very steps.

Hector led the group, after being back from whatever mission Alpha had sent him on, and she was glad. She’d missed him and his brand of humor, especially the ease with which he pulled Alpha’s leg.

Speaking of, her husband stepped beside her, his hands coming to her hips in a move that was pure proprietary, and waited to greet them.

Dante, as handsome and suave as she remembered, stepped on the deck with a smile, little Tempest who wasn’t so little anymore in his arms, dressed in a bright yellow jumpsuit that was absolutely adorable, little yellow bow on her head.

“Thanks for having us, brother,” Dante nodded at Alpha, and pressed a platonic but affectionate kiss of greeting to her cheek. “Beautiful as always, Zephyr.”

Oh, he was a charmer to boot but damn if he didn’t make a woman feel good.

His wife Amara, the goddess of a woman Zephyr still didn’t know could exist, greeted both Alpha and her with a warm, sweet-scented hug. “Thank you so much for having us. We needed the break. Your home is stunning,” she complimented in a raspy voice, and Zephyr felt pride fill her. It was such a contrast to the last time she’d met her, when she’d been unsure about her marriage and an unknown for Alpha, insecure in both herself and their relationship. Standing there, she realized she had changed too, become more certain of herself and her relationship, her insecurities still present but taking more of a backseat with the reassurance of her love. God, she loved him, this him. Not just for who he was now but who he let her be.

She liked this version of herself, the woman who could be strong, be vulnerable, love openly and lust shamelessly, and know it was all okay, that she wouldn’t be judged for it, or would never be told she had to change certain aspects to conform better in his life.

She loved that.

“Of course,” she answered Amara. “We’re family. You’re always welcome here.”

Amara gave her hands a squeeze and Zephyr saw a scar on her wrist. But she didn’t say anything, turning to the other couple in the back, one she’d seen at the wedding but hadn’t been introduced to. The intense man and the spectacled woman, and with them the young boy who’d talked to her at the wedding, the boy who was currently kneeling and petting the dogs.

“Oh hey!” she waved at him. “You remember me, right?”

The boy didn’t look up, just scratched Bear. “You cry a lot. Yes.”

“Xander!” the spectacled woman admonished, giving her a slightly embarrassed smile. “Hi. Sorry. That’s Xander. I’m Morana. This big guy is Tristan.”

Tristan gave her a man nod but kept his distance, aloof. Yikes. There was no warmth to the man. She would’ve thought him a robot except for the way he looked at Morana and checked Xander with his eyes, occasionally looking over at Tempest and Amara. Interesting.

“Let’s get you settled,” she clapped her hands and led them all inside, giving them a tour of the place, guiding a few of their guys to set up their stuff in the guest house. Nala and some of her helpers worked in the kitchen to prepare everything for them, Leah coming over to help with the kids, which was useless because Tempest didn’t want to leave her father’s arms and Xander had found himself a comfortable spot on the rugs with the dogs.

It felt different from the time her parents had come for dinner. This time, she felt like the woman of the house, like an equal hostess rather than a daughter trying to prove everything was perfect. They sat and talked casually, keeping it light mostly because the kids were awake and members of the staff were around. Out of the couples, she realized Morana and she were the talkers, although the other woman was a genius and she was not. Amara piped in but listened, maybe owing to her profession as a therapist, which Zephyr though was really cool. It made her wonder though what her contribution to the group was. She was a hairstylist, and she loved her job, but in present company, it reminded her of the questions she’d had when she’d met the ladies at the club, about what she could do for them.

Tristan and Alpha were the quietest of the bunch, Dante the most easy-going, Alpha talking when he had to, and Tristan not talking at all. But he did sit with his arm around Morana, his fingers touching her neck and the romantic in her slightly swooned at that.

Soon, Alpha left to warm up before the fight with Hector. Leah took over babysitting duties, and the rest of them got into a Rover, Victor driving them to the arena where The Finisher would fight.

***

The crowd was much larger than the last time she’d been there. Zephyr sat in the exact same seat she’d been in, Morana on one side, Amara on the other, their respective partners covering their corners, Victor and one of Dante’s guys behind them, giving them all the cover.

More men in suits and women in dresses sat in the upper sections of the arena, getting a bird’s eye view of the ring in the center. Other rowdier crowd stood all around the huge warehouse, behind a single row of chairs on each side just a few feet from the fighting ring. People were betting, scores were being kept, both the classy and the ugly in the underworld gracing the fight.

Zephyr sat with her heart in her throat as the announcer jumped up, clapping his hands for silence.

“What a fantastic tournament it has been, ladies and gentleman,” his voice boomed again. “We’re at the final fight, and oh, what a fight it will be.”

She didn’t know how, but she needed Alpha to make it out.

“Ladies and gentleman, he trains the best fighters in his homeland, his name instills fear in the ring, please welcome our Russian killing machine, The Ravager!”

A cheer went up in the crowd as the man with the icy hair and icy eyes walked from what must’ve been the locker room to the ring, not giving the crowd a look, just jumping in the fighting ring.

“He looks scary,” Morana whispered from her side, and Zephyr nodded, remembering when he’d dropped the boy in five seconds.

“And now,” the announcer yelled. “From the host city, the legend who doesn’t start a fight he cannot finish, the one-eyed beast, The Finisher!”

Another roar went through the crowd, the noise so loud Zephyr felt it reverberating through her body. She looked to the side to see her husband, no, The Finisher, walk out in his black fighter’s shorts out of the same locker room, wrapping his tape around his hands, going straight to the ring, jumping up beside the Ravager.

Alpha turned his head and looked at her, just to make sure she was there, and turned back.

“How the hell is he going to fight with one eye?” Amara whispered from her other side.

Zephyr didn’t know, even though she’d seen him training and fighting and killing. She didn’t know but she prayed he did.

The men exchanged a look, tapping their fists.

The announcer dropped down and rang the bell.

The fight began.

Zephyr gripped the arms of her chair, not daring to blink, not daring to breathe as The Ravager got behind Alpha, her husband immediately pivoting and coming at him from the side, to which The Ravager ducked and moved away, both men circling each other.

A hush fell over the crowd as they studied each other, adrenaline filling her veins as she rooted for the man she loved to come out the victor, no matter what the cost.

“He needs to go from the right,” Dante muttered under his breath, leaning forward in his seat and observing the fight as closely as he could.

“He’s blind on the right,” Tristan commented to Dante from the other side. “It’d make him weak.”

The commentary on technique kept on, as did the fight, much longer than any of the previous ones had lasted.

Zephyr looked at the announcer to see him looking agitated, realizing the fight had gone on for over ten minutes, with both men just fighting and ducking and dancing around each other.

“What is he doing?” she mused out loud and felt Amara give her leg a squeeze.

Suddenly, the sounds of fireworks penetrated the air.

A collective gasp went up in the warehouse. People began screaming, and Zephyr looked around in confusion, her heart threatening to bust out of her chest as Dante covered Amara and Tristan covered Morana, pushing them both to the floor. She saw Alpha looking at one corner of the warehouse before jumping over the ring, abandoning the fight to come to her. He picked her up in his arms, on the move toward the locker room.

“Find the shooter,” he ordered Victor, who was already running to the other side of the warehouse.

Dante and Tristan followed them to the back exit, the Ravager surprisingly opening the door to let them out near the back of the parking lot, now filled with people running away.

“I owe you, Adrik,” Alpha nodded to the Ravager, who gave a solemn nod in return.

“What just happened?” Zephyr asked, still shaken from the adrenaline pumping through her blood. Had she just been at a shooting? An actual shooting? One that sounded like fireworks?

“It was a shooting.” Alpha’s grim tone confirmed.

They reached the vehicle and put her down, looking back at the warehouse.

“Did anyone get hurt?” Amara asked, checking everyone.

“I think someone died inside,” Morana surmised, slumping against the car. “Behind me. The bullet was close. But were they the target or were we?”

Tristan pulled her into his body.

Zephyr leaned against Alpha, trying to wrap her mind around the shooting, the shooting at an underground death fight where someone might have died. His arm came around her, holding her close as they all watched and waited in the aftermath.

After a few minutes, Victor came out with his brother and Dante’s man, a gun in his hand.

“Found this at the back, boss.”

Alpha took the gun in his right hand, checking it out. “This model isn’t made here.”

Morana opened her phone, furiously typing on the screen. “It was manufactured in Svoski. There’s no name of registration or license number.”

That was fast.

Hector looked at Alpha, a silent conversation happening between the two.

“Victor, take the girls home,” he told the younger man.

Dante gave his man a nod to go with them, and gave Amara a kiss.

Tristan pulled Morana by the neck and they had a silent conversation as well.

Alpha turned Zephyr’s face up by her chin, giving her a hard kiss. “Be good, rainbow.”

“Whatever you say, sexy,” she whispered, even though her voice shook, her mind processing the rapidness with which the night had gone to shit.

***

Zephyr did what she always did when something eventful happened to her—she called her sister.

After returning home with Morana and Amara, both women going to the guest house to freshen up before joining her, Zephyr decided to take the time alone to tell her sister about the shooting, her only company Bear, the other two dogs missing somewhere in the house.

“Are you okay?” Zen exclaimed in her ear. “Wait, I need to see you. Switch to video right now.”

Zephyr shook her head and switched, showing her sister herself on the camera. “I’m perfectly fine. See?”

“Oh god, Zee,” Zen groaned. “Mentally? Are you okay?”

Zephyr told her sister honestly that she didn’t know. She was still processing it, and it was probably going to take a while before she accepted that. It also made her realize given her reaction how much of an outsider she was to this world. None of the others had reacted to the shooting in a surprising way, which made her understand that they’d obviously had previous experience dealing with similar violence. She’d had none of it, and she didn’t know if it was good or bad. It just was, and she had to learn if she wanted to stay a part of Alpha’s world, which she definitely did.

“Please tell me you have some wine,” Morana entered from the back deck with Amara, both dressed in pajamas, Morana in a t-shirt and shorts, Amara in a silky robe. Zephyr had simply stolen one of Alpha’s t-shirts and put them on with leggings that she’d take off once they went to bed.

Still on the call, Zephyr pointed to the wine cabinet and turned the phone, introducing the girls to each other. Morana waved at Zen, Amara smiled, and they chat for a few minutes before she disconnected, promising to call again. Wine glasses in hand, all three of them went to the sunken living room with the interior garden, sitting around on different couches, Bear slumping down drowsily at Zephyr’s feet.

“He’s like my cat, Lulu,” Amara pointed with a delicate finger to the canine at her feet.

“Lulu is adorable,” Morana gushed. “I’ve been trying to convince Tristan to get a cat.”

“And failing,” Amara laughed.

Zephyr couldn’t help but grin. “What about a dog? I didn’t ever want one and now I have three of them. I can’t imagine life without them now, even the one I’m sure hates me.”

Morana sighed. “A dog seems more plausible, honestly. I’m sure Tristan noticed the way Xander responded to your dogs. He doesn’t respond outwardly to stuff easily so we’ll talk to his therapist about it.”

Zephyr didn’t ask but the question must have been on her face.

“He’s high-functioning autistic,” Morana clarified. “We had him tested recently and the counselor suggested getting an emotional support pet. Xander hasn’t really shown any outward interest in Lulu, not like he showed your dogs, though he’s met her enough times.”

Wow.

“Is he yours?” Zephyr asked. Morana looked too young to be a mother to a child his age.

‘No, but we might adopt him soon.’

Over the next hour, the girls brought her up to speed with their lives and their loves, grilled her about how she, a personality completely in contrast to Alpha, became his wife. While Zephyr had never had any dearth of friends or female companionship, not with her best friend being her sister, she got the feeling the two women hadn’t been as lucky, so she tried to bond with them and let them know that she was there if they needed another friend.

The guys returned soon after, crashing down beside them, something dark hanging over their heads.

“Did you find anything?” Zephyr asked, curious and needing to know if they had found any answers. She snuggled into Alpha’s side, letting his familiar weight settle around her and his familiar scent comfort her.

Dante shook his head in answer. “No. But now that we can talk in privacy,” he turned to Zephyr. “Do you remember anything about your encounter with the Shadow Man at my wedding?”

Zephyr bit her lip, trying to recall. “He was tall, wore a black sweatshirt, kept his face out of my line of sight.”

Morana nodded. “Sounds like my airport man.”

“Not yours,” Tristan corrected from her side, and she rolled her eyes behind her glasses. “We need to figure out what he’s doing. First, he contacts me about the missing girls and then he’s at your wedding sending cryptic messages and then he’s meeting Alpha about serial murders? What’s his agenda?”

Zephyr wished she could help. And in a way, maybe she could. Maybe her outside perspective could glean a new light.

“What if…” she hesitated, felt Alpha give her a squeeze, and began again. “What if you guys are too close to it to see the bigger picture? What is the one thing that connects all of you? Forget familial connections. Why would a girl from Shadow Port work with a man from Tenebrae? Why did the king of Outfit come to the king of the south? What is the underlying thread here?”

Dante tilted his head to the side, his eyes going to Tristan before settling on Alpha. “The Syndicate?”

Zephyr encouraged. “That’s as good a start as any. Maybe the Shadow Man is helping you because he’s got beef with the organization too.”

“But how the hell does he know what he does?” Dante shook his head, frustration evident on his face.

“Could he be a part of The Syndicate?” Morana mused out loud, tapping her phone on her thigh. “They’re giant, which obviously means they have resources. It could make sense.”

“Then why lead us to them?” Amara asked, her husky voice quiet. “If secrecy is their thing, and it’s his thing, why leave breadcrumbs for us?”

There was silence for a beat as they all considered the questions.

“Did you find anything about my sister?” Tristan spoke for the first time, and Zephyr realized he had a nice voice, though quite intense.

Her own intense grump replied, “We tracked down the girls in the shipment, all but three.”

“Were you able to track me?” Morana asked, and Zephyr felt her eyes widen. She’d been a missing girl?

She felt Alpha tense beside her. “No. That makes it two missing girls.”

“What happened to the rest?” Amara locked her fingers with Dante’s, her green eyes on Alpha.

“Most died,” her husband answered, remorse in his deep voice.

Zephyr watched Morana put her hand on Tristan’s thigh as he looked away, the muscles in his neck working.

After another beat of silence, Dante spoke up. “One of my guys who’s been undercover in the organization for months, he found something.”

Alpha listened intently and Zephyr sipped her wine, invested.

“The last contact Vin had with me a few months ago, he mentioned the handlers give the kids numbers for identity. They also keep track of the kids in the organization as long as they are alive. He found a file for one of the girls in the batch from Tenebrae twenty years ago leading to Los Fortis.” Dante paused. “5057. The file had a seal on it. He opened it and found that someone had bought her and the transaction was to take place next week. If we can find when and where in the city—”

“We can find a girl,” Alpha completed, looking toward Tristan.

It went unsaid that if they found a girl, chances of her being his sister were high. They sat in silence, with endless questions, elusive answers, a small, tentative hope that maybe, there would be dawn to the night.