"Don't think about it, just say it," Animal told him, picking up on his tabulation.

"It ain't bout nothing, I'm just glad to see you free . . . like for real free, no more bulls.h.i.t," Ashanti said.

"I'm happy to be free, but I wouldn't say that my new freedom isn't without some of the same bulls.h.i.t. If that was the case then I probably wouldn't be sitting in the car with you two fools," Animal joked.

"You know old habits die hard," Ashanti said with a smile. His face suddenly became serious. "Look big homie, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry I didn't get up to visit you like that when you were locked down. I meant to come, but I just had a lot of s.h.i.t going on, ya know?"

"Yeah, I can dig that, little brother, and I totally understand. When you're inside, it's like time stops when you fall into that prison routine. Out in the world, things keep moving. We soldiers, Ashanti, and as soldiers we understand that prison comes with the territory. I ain't saying it like going to prison is a badge of honor or no s.h.i.t like that, but when you're in the streets it strengthens your chances of going. When that time comes, you buckle down, do your time. Getting caught up in what's going on in the world only makes it harder."

"Is that what you did to get through your time, forget about everybody?" Ashanti asked.

Animal laughed. He hadn't meant it to mock Ashanti, but the genuine curiosity in his question took him back to a time when Ashanti was still a little boy, picking Animal's brain for information. "Man, I only had eighteen months, not eighteen years," Animal said. "Granted, even one day in prison is one day too many, but my bid wasn't the worst. Of course I missed my son and my lady, but because I was so close to the city, Gucci was able to come visit me on the regular, before she moved out here to set things up for us. Outside of that, I did a lot of reading and working out to help me pa.s.s the time."

"I hear the homies are strong in the prison system," Ashanti said.

"Please believe it, we definitely had numbers up in there but I didn't get into all that gang s.h.i.t while I was locked up. It wasn't conducive to who I was striving to become. All that kind of s.h.i.t does is bring problems that I didn't want."

"So you saying you ain't bout that five no more?" Ashanti asked.

"I'm always gonna be about that because it's a part of who I am, but if you mean taking life over colors, no I ain't bout that. I think it stopped being about that for me when I killed Eddie. When I was young, coming up under Tango and Gladiator, all I wanted to do was prove that I was the hardest Blood out, but after a while it was no longer about colors, it was about having a purpose. In my entire life, killing had been the only thing I was ever good at. For the first time people needed me, instead of the other way around. Killing got good to me. I had been the prey for so long that it felt good to be the predator. Every time I dropped a n.i.g.g.a, I didn't see their faces, but the faces of someone who had done me wrong in life. Death became my drug of choice and I was a stone cold junkie."

"I remember those days," Ashanti said, thinking back to how things used to be. Animal could kill a man in the most gruesome ways and never bat an eye. He was cold, calculated and Ashanti wanted to be just like him. "What changed?" It was a question Ashanti felt like he already knew the answer to, but he had never asked it out loud.

"Gucci changed all that," Animal said honestly. "Before I met her I was just out there throwing caution to the wind, and doing whatever to whomever. I didn't care about the repercussions, having somebody in my life who could potentially get hurt because of my bulls.h.i.t made me slow down and really start to think about the things I was out there doing. I changed for her."

"So you saying the killer is dead?" Ashanti asked.

"Nah, the killer in me is alive and well, I'm just better at establishing who is in control," Animal said.

"See, that's what I'm getting at, Animal. Kahllah says I need to learn control, but it ain't as easy as she thinks when you come from what we come from. These n.i.g.g.as I deal with day in and day out are savages and they only respect other savages. I ain't good at diplomacy. If you out here foul and your name gets pulled out the hat then its lights out, Blood. Straight like that."

"I feel you, Ashanti, but what's the end game?" Animal asked.

Ashanti c.o.c.ked his head to one side. "I don't follow you."

"I mean, to what end are you playing the game? When it's all said and done, what are you in it for?"

Ashanti looked at Animal, weighing the question. "To die rich and notorious," he said seriously.

His answer saddened Animal. Chronologically Ashanti was an adult, but mentally he was still a young man wandering the dark path . . . the path Animal had set him on, just as Gladiator had done for him years prior.

Before their conversation could go any further, something bounced across the hood of the car, startling both of them. They weren't sure what it was, but it had left a bloodstain on the windshield.

Chester had been on his feet all day, and half the night, with no signs that he'd be able to relax anytime soon. Normally, doing security for Thad Klein was a cakewalk, and largely consisted of him spending his days watching Netflix on his phone or driving Klein back and forth, but not that day. Klein had kept Chester running around checking on this or that, and double-checking security. With all the cocaine Klein did, he was always paranoid, but that day he was more so.

A sound coming from the small cove on the side of the tattoo parlor, where the dumpster was kept, caught Chester's attention. It sounded like a wounded animal. Chester started to ignore it until he remembered how Klein felt about his cats. He treated those animals better than he did people. One time, one of Mr. Klein's prized Persian cats had gotten out of the apartment and got hit by a car. He went ballistic and fired the guy who was doing security on the apartment that day, calling him negligent. Chester needed his job, so he reasoned it was better to be safe than sorry.

Chester crept around the side of the building to the dumpster with is gun hanging at his side. It was dark around the cove of the dumpster, so he fished a small flashlight from his pocket and flicked it on. At first he didn't see anything but trash, but on his second sweep he caught it. One of Mr. Klein's cats had gotten out, and it was lying on the ground, meowing sorrowfully. Chester could see the cat's legs twitching, but it made no attempt to get up. Chester figured the cat must've fallen from the window of the upstairs apartment and hurt itself.

"So much for cats always landing on their feet," Chester chuckled. He knelt down to check the extent of the cat's injuries. For the most part, the cat seemed to be intact, except for the bone protruding from its neck. It was a clean break, so it couldn't have been caused by a fall. By the time two and two made four in Chester's mind, it was already too late.

Chester spun, with his gun raised, at the same time Kahllah's blade cut through is wrist, severing the hand holding the gun. The scream that he was trying to muster died in his throat, when the second blade slit it. The last thing he saw before the light faded from his eyes was the black mask staring down at him.

After making sure Chester was dead, Kahllah waved her hands at the SUV to give Ashanti the signal, but he didn't notice. He and Animal were so deep into whatever they were talking about that neither of them saw Kahllah giving the signal. "f.u.c.king amateurs," Kahllah cursed under her breath. She needed a way to get their attention without tipping Klein off, and looking down at Chester's dead body she had just the solution.

Animal and Ashanti got out of the car at the same time, guns dawn, and keeping one eye on the street. When they reached the front of the car, they found a human head lying just under the front b.u.mper.

"What the f.u.c.k?" Animal frowned.

"It's Kahllah's signal," Ashanti said. He looked across the street just in time to see her slip inside the tattoo parlor. "Game time," he told Animal and jogged across the street.

Animal was about to take off after him, when he remembered his roll in the caper. "No wet work," he mumbled to himself. All Animal could do was lean against the truck, brooding, while Ashanti made his way around the back of the building and into the action.

FIVE.

KAHLLAH SLITHERED THROUGH THE DARKENED tattoo parlor like a shadow. Through the front window she could see Ashanti flash across en route to take up his position in the back. For all Ashanti's character flaws, he was a sharp and willing apprentice.

At the back of the parlor there was a door that led to the apartment upstairs. It was an older model door, with a small window at the top of it. Kahllah removed what looked like a car antenna with a dental mirror on the end from her vest, and extended it. She slowly raised the mirror so that she could see what or who was behind the door. It was a narrow stairwell, barely big enough to fit more than one person at a time. In such close quarters, her cleavers would be useless, as there wasn't enough room to swing them effectively. At the top of the stairs was a man, sitting in a chair reading a magazine. She didn't see a gun, but she knew he had one. The way the chair was turned, he would be able to see anyone who came through the door and get the drop on them if necessary. She was at a disadvantage, but it wasn't the first time and surely wouldn't be the last. Her attack had to be swift and precise.

Kahllah used one hand to yank the door open, while letting the other slide to her thigh, where she kept a dagger strapped. The man at the top of the stairs noticed her just as she flung the blade. The dagger whistled end over end and found a comfortable spot in the man's throat. Kahllah's feet moved swiftly, yet silently up the stairs, catching the man's body before it could fall and laying it gently on the stairs. After retrieving her dagger from his throat, she moved to the apartment door.

She placed her ear to the door and listened for a few moments. She could hear the sounds of music playing softly, but no voices, which she found unusual. If Klein was showcasing children to clients, she expected to hear at least some type of chatter. Using the tip of her dagger, she quickly picked the lock and slipped inside the apartment. The living room was dimly lit, with just a few lamps turned on here and there. In the middle of the floor there was a pile of hastily discarded clothes, those of a grown man's and a child's. Kahllah's heart raced, fearful that she had arrived too late to stop Klein from whatever he had planned for his child hostage.

She could hear the sounds of voices coming from one of the back bedrooms. The first was that of a man, the second of a child presumably whimpering. Kahllah crept across the slick linoleum floor of the hallway, towards the bedroom where she heard the voices. She took her time, checking each room as she pa.s.sed, making sure there were no surprises laying in wait for her. As she got closer, they became louder. There was definitely a child in danger. Drawing both her cleavers, Kahllah kicked the bedroom door open and rushed inside. She had expected to see some horrific scene of a child being violated, but there wasn't a child in sight.

Sitting on the other side of the room, in a chair near the window, was her mark, Thad Klein. Klein was dressed as usual in an immaculately tailored suit, with his dark hair perfectly combed. His manicured hands were folded over his knee. Playing on the television in front of him was a fetish p.o.r.nography DVD. That's where the voices had been coming from.

Klein didn't even bother to turn his head to acknowledge her presence. He raised his hand for silence, and stared intently at the television. The actors on the screen were nearing the climax of the scene. Klein watched as if in a trance; the sight of him and what was playing on the screen disgusted Kahllah. With a swing of one of her cleavers, Kahllah severed the cord and the screen went black.

Klein looked disappointed. "And it was just about to get to the good part," he shook his head. "No worries, I've seen that particular film over a dozen times and I know how it ends."

"Speaking of ends, yours is at hand, pedophile," Kahllah told him. The filters in her mask distorted her voice and made it sound almost mechanical.

Klein slowly rose to his feet, regarding her. "Not quite what I expected, considering your reputation," Klein said in an easy tone. "I don't supposed I could offer to double whatever price has been put on my head to get you to turn around and act like we've never seen each other, could I?"

"No amount of money could make me turn a blind eye to your evil, Klein. You are the devil and as is the will of my Lord, I will send you back to h.e.l.l for what you've done to those children." Kahllah told him.

"I had a feeling you would say as much, so how about we go with offer number two," Klein said with a sinister edge to his voice. "I fill you full of holes and go down in history as the guy who took out the Black Lotus."

When Klein had called her by name, an alarm had gone off in Kahllah's head. She was about to move on Klein when she noticed several red dots magically appear all over her body. She cut her eyes to the doorway, already knowing what she would see. There were several armed men with automatic weapons trained on her. She'd checked the rooms and didn't see anyone, so they had to have come into the apartment after she did. They were expecting her. It was a trap and Kahllah had walked right into it.

Standing around and doing nothing was driving Animal insane. He was used to being in the thick of things and riding the pine wasn't sitting well with him. Every few seconds he found himself looking up at the window, wondering how things were going with Kahllah and her kill. He wanted to be involved in the bloodshed so bad that he could literally taste it, but he had promised Gucci. It was bad enough that he had rode out with Kahllah and Ashanti, but spilling blood would only make things worse. He would do his part as the lookout and collect his money, but he didn't like it. Animal sat on the hood of the truck and fired up a cigarette. From his elevated vantage point, he could see down the entire strip. On the next block he saw the transgender prost.i.tute Ricky and his crew, trying to flag down tricks. A van pulled up at the curb and Ricky approached the pa.s.senger's side window. He could see Ricky saying something to someone in the car and pointing in the direction of the building he had sent Kahllah into. Suddenly, Animal got an eerie feeling in the pit of his gut. The van pulled away from the curb and sped down the street. It screeched to a halt in front of the tattoo parlor, and several armed men spilled out and rushed inside. They had been set up.

Animal knew that Ashanti was in the back, so he was probably oblivious as to what was going on. He was about to grab the radio Kahllah had given him to warn her when he heard the gunshot. He didn't have time to think, so he grabbed the leather holster, holding his Pretty b.i.t.c.hes, from the backseat and reacted. "Forgive me, Gucci," Animal whispered, before drawing his guns and charging the tattoo parlor.

Over all her years of service to the Brotherhood, Kahllah had an almost flawless track record. Even in her Initiate years of training, she had always been at the top of her cla.s.s. She had been raised for the sole purpose of taking lives, so she had an edge over the other Initiates, who had to be taught to embrace death. She had no children, no family and no ties to anything in the outside world. Her ability to detach herself from all emotions and focus on nothing but the job was what made her such an efficient killer. That night she allowed her focus to slip and found herself on the wrong end of a death threat.

"You can drop the blades," Klein ordered her. When she looked like she was thinking about making a move, Klein nodded to one of his men. The man shot the ground near Kahllah's foot. "The next one is in your head. Now drop the blades." Kahllah reluctantly threw her blades to the ground. "That's better, now we can talk," he moved closer to get a better look, but was careful not to move too close. Even outnumbered and outgunned, the Black Lotus was still deadly. "Nothing to say for yourself? I hear you like to quote scripture before you kill your victims. What does your good book say about situations like this?" he taunted her.

"When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pa.s.s the saying that is written: "Death is swallowed up in victory." She quoted Corinthians.

"And what the f.u.c.k is that supposed to mean?" Klein asked.

"It means your victory will be a short one, pedophile. Even if I fall here today, another flower will grow in my place. You will be a hunted man for all your days," Kahllah told him.

"Somehow, I doubt that. Everybody who pats you on your back isn't your friend. I think you've overestimated your value, doll," Klein chuckled.

Klein continued to talk, but Kahllah was deaf to everything else he said. It was his previous statement that sent a chill down her spine. He called her doll, meaning he knew she was a female. Very few outside of the Brotherhood knew that the Black Lotus was a female. If Klein had that information then her betrayal went far deeper than just Ricky.

"I asked if you had any last words before we made a mess of you?" Klein repeated the question.

"Yes," Kahllah said in an all too calm voice. "So does my lord speak with my voice, he smites with my hands!" Kahllah whipped her hands out and two thin chains shot from her wrists. The steel hooks on the ends of them sank into the flesh of Klein's left arm and his collarbone. Kahllah yanked the chains, snapping Klein to her like he was at the end of a rubber band. Wrapping a length of the chain around his neck, Kahllah kept Klein's body between her and the shooters like a human shield. "You boys might be good, but I don't think any of you are good enough to take me down without hitting your employer. Now make a path and let me through," she ordered. The men looked hesitant, so she tightened the chain around Klein's neck, causing the hook to tear at the flesh over his collarbone.

"Do what she says!" Klein yelped.

The men stood down, and opened up a s.p.a.ce for Kahllah to walk through. One of them looked like he was thinking about playing hero, but Klein's pleading eyes told him to hold his position. She made sure to keep Klein close and her back to the wall. Kahllah slipped past the men and was now in the hallway and headed to the door. She was just pa.s.sing the kitchen when something smashed into the side of her head. The world swam and for a minute, things went black. When Kahllah was finally able to regain her wits, she was lying on her back with several guns trained on her and Klein was free.

Klein hovered over her, bloodied and angry. "You filthy c.u.n.t," he kicked her in the face, knocking Kahllah's mask off. "Get this pretty b.i.t.c.h up," he ordered his men. Two of the gunmen pulled Kahllah to her feet and pinned her to the wall. "First, I was just going to stick to the plan and kill you," Klein undid his belt, "but now I'm going to f.u.c.k you first."

When Klein was close enough, Kahllah raised both her legs and jackknifed the heels of her boots into his chest, sending him crashing into the wall behind him. She had been trying to break his ribs to puncture his heart, but because she was being held at an awkward angle, her aim was off, and she only succeeded in knocking the wind out of him. One of the men holding her punched her in the face twice, dazing her and taking enough of the fight out of her for two more men to come over and secure her legs.

When Klein was able to catch his breath, he stalked over to Kahllah, smiling, with his wrinkled pink d.i.c.k in his hand. "You're a fighter, huh? I like it when they fight. Strip this b.i.t.c.h," he told his men.

When Kahllah saw the look in Klein's eyes, she was transported to her years amongst the slave traders and the things they did to her. She would rather die than have a man force himself on her. Kahllah managed to get one of her arms loose. The man who had been holding her was taken totally by surprise, when she jammed her fingers into his eyes and blinded him. She would've torn his throat out next, had two more men not come to grab her arm. Kahllah struggled against them while they tore away her belts and harnesses, trying to get her body suit off, but there was little she could do. One of them took a knife and cut the lower half of her body suit down the middle, exposing her shaved v.a.g.i.n.a.

Klein moved close enough to where she could smell the cheap scotch on his breath. Klein kept his eyes locked on Kahllah's while he forced his fingers inside her. He smiled when he saw her eyes twitch, and forced his fingers deeper inside her. Kahllah's eyes welled with tears, but she would not cry. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Klein removed his slick fingers from her v.a.g.i.n.a and smelled them, before slipping his fingers into his mouth and sucking her juices off.

"Sweetest flower I've ever tasted," Klein breathed over her lips.

"And it'll also be the last flower you ever taste," a voice called from the door.

Klein turned and saw a wild haired young man standing in the doorway, holding two very big pistols. His lips parted into a sneer, and Klein could see the faintest hints of diamonds across his teeth. It was a small gesture, but it made Klein's bowels shift. The Black Lotus was a dangerous killer, but the young man who had entered the apartment was death himself.

Klein had just thrown himself to the floor when Animal squeezed the triggers on his guns. Just above him, the heads of the men who had been holding Kahllah's arms, exploded like rotten tomatoes. The remaining gunmen abandoned their duties of restraining the Black Lotus, and drew their weapons. Animal moved like a blur, and ducked under the first wave of shots, sliding on his knees across the linoleum floor, firing one gun at a time. While the gunmen's shots were wild and frantic, Animal's were timed and precise. He laced two more of the gunmen, piercing their heart and small intestines, respectively. Animal skidded to a stop next to one of the men he had seen holding Kahllah's leg. He wasn't quite dead yet, but it was an easy fix. Animal dumped two bullets in his face for good measure.

Klein was scrambling down the hallways towards one of the bedrooms. He was firing a .32 blindly over his shoulder, doing more damage to the ceiling and walls than anything else. Animal had a clear shot at his head, but Kahllah stopped him.

"He's mine!" Kahllah told him and took off after Klein.

Animal wasn't sure what had happened to Kahllah before he'd arrived, but the feral look in her eyes frightened him. Not sure what else to do, he followed her.

Kahllah rounded the corner into the bedroom, and ducked just as a bullet hit the door above her head. She went low, dropping into a roll, she retrieved one of her discarded cleavers, and popped up directly in front of Klein. He raised his gun to get off another shot, but she effortlessly knocked the gun away, and held his arm in a death grip. Kahllah held him, immobile, staring at his fingers as if they were something vile. With a swipe of her cleaver she removed every finger on his hand. Klein screamed in pain with each snip. He struggled to free himself from her grip, but Kahllah had a firm hold on him.

"Worm," she twisted his hand, breaking his wrist, "pedophile," she twisted again, snapping his elbow, "rapist," she dislocated his shoulder. Klein tried to fall to the ground, but she yanked him back to his feet by his useless arm, drawing a whimper from him. "For your crimes against those children, you have been sentenced to die, but for your crimes against me, I condemn you to a lifetime of suffering."

Animal had seen and done some gruesome things in his lifetime, but if you stacked them all together they'd still come up short measured against what Kahllah did to Klein in that bedroom. She retrieved her harnesses from the hallways and came back into the room and knelt beside Klein. From one of the pouches she removed a small butane torch and began superheating the edge of one of the cleavers. She needed the blade to be hot so that Klein's wounds would cauterize and he wouldn't bleed out before she was done with him. Kahllah started with his eyes, bringing them to a boil in his sockets. She took her time with the rest of him, cutting away little pieces here and there, while he wailed and begged for mercy. By the time Kahllah had finished with him, Klein was laying on the ground in pieces like a Mr. Potato Head toy, barely breathing, but still alive and in a great deal of pain.

When Kahllah turned to Animal, she looked like something out of a horror movie. Her face and what were left of her clothes were covered in blood. The cleaver was still clutched firmly in her hand, dripping with blood. Her eyes had retained some of their composure, but the anger still burned brightly. A lone tear ran down her cheek, tracing a line through the sea of crimson.

Animal could feel her pain all the way from where he was standing. He knew what it was like to be violated, and his heart ached for her. "Kahllah " he began, but she cut him off.

"There is nothing to say," she said just above a whisper. "We will never speak of this . . . ever. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, you got that," Animal agreed. His eyes roamed over to what was left of Klein. He looked like a lab experiment gone wrong, limbless and wriggling around on the floor. A wet gurgling sound emitted from his throat. Whether he was trying to scream or speak, Animal couldn't tell because Kahllah had cut out his tongue. "I should finish him off. It's wrong to leave him here like this," he aimed one of his Pretty b.i.t.c.hes at Klein, ready to put him out of his misery.

"No," Kahllah said sternly. "I want him to live so that he may carry my message to those who have sought to betray me. The Black Lotus is not so easily taken out."

"Well don't you think you should've at least found out from him who it was that set you up before you cut his tongue out?" Animal asked.

"I don't need him to tell me what I fear I already know," Kahllah said sadly. There were only a handful of people who had the resources and intelligence to lay a trap for someone of the Black Lotus's skill, and the list of those who had motive to want her out of the way was even shorter.

Just then the bedroom door swung open, causing Animal and Kahllah both to spin on the defensive. Animal was about to squeeze the triggers on his guns when he realized that it was only Ashanti. He stood in the doorway, gun raised and looking at the carnage in wide-eyed shock. When his eyes landed on Kahllah, covered in blood and with her privates exposed, his look of shock turned into one of concern.

"Big sis, what happened?" Ashanti asked, ready to punish whoever it was who had hurt her.

"Nothing my brother and I couldn't handle," Kahllah patted Ashanti lovingly on the cheek, leaving b.l.o.o.d.y fingerprints. "I'll meet you back at the truck," she told them and left the apartment.

For the first time Ashanti noticed that Animal was holding his pistols. It was the first time he'd seen Animal holding a gun in years and it filled his heart with great pride. "So much for promises, huh?"

Animal looked down at his guns. He thought that he would've felt ashamed for breaking his promise to Gucci, but instead, he felt alive . . . more alive than he'd felt in years. "I guess so."

"d.a.m.n, Blood, how y'all gonna lay everybody down before I got my taste? I came all the way out here to f.a.g-Town and ain't nothing left for me to do," Ashanti said, sounding like a disappointed kid who had just found out he had to attend summer school and couldn't go away to camp.

Animal suddenly had a fiendish idea. He knelt beside Klein, careful not to get blood on his clothes, began searching his pockets. It took a second, but he eventually found what he was looking for. "Bingo," he smiled.

"What you doing, man?" Ashanti asked.

Animal twirled a key ring on his finger. "About to make this night worth your while."

The minute Ricky had heard the shooting, he got out of dodge. He felt bad about what he had done to Kahllah because she had always been so kind to him. He'd first met her a few years back when she was on the West Coast doing a story on the secret life of Transgender Prost.i.tutes. She didn't treat Ricky like some sideshow freak, as everyone else had done. She was kind, respectful and caring. She'd even helped him find a room to rent because he was living on the streets. Kahllah had been one of the very few bright spots in his life since he had been out on his own, working the streets.