Hired Gun Part 1by A.J. Bennett & Julia Crane

Chapter 2

2

Thorne exited the elevator and cast his senses out, scanning the area for any threats. No red flags went up, so he continued on his way. If humans only knew how many things went bump in the night, or what kind of creatures might one day come calling, they’d never get any sleep. But hey, that’s what The Sicarii, a secret supernatural society, was there for: protection. It was the best day of his immortal life when he crossed paths with the society nearly a thousand years ago. Finally, he had a purpose and a brotherhood, even if most of his brothers didn’t live past the age of sixty. 

At least he had Benny Deuces. He was another sucker who’d been cast out by the gods. Best friend he ever had. 

Grinning, Thorne stopped in front of his bike and slung one of his long legs over the Harley before securing his helmet. Not that he needed the damn thing—he was indestructible—but even immortals occasionally got traffic tickets. 

Thorne kicked the throttle and revved the engine before shooting out of the parking garage. It was a great day for a ride. The sun was shining and the breeze bordered on brisk. 

Gotta love New York City in the fall. He’d been all over the world, but he always returned to the city. There was something about it that beckoned him back. Watching it change over the centuries was a beautiful sight. The scenery changed and new buildings popped up, but the heart of the city remained the same. There was nothing quite like a true New Yorker. 

Now, the fucking traffic … that was something he could live without. The clock was ticking, and he was hungry, so he didn’t even try to obey the law as he weaved in and out of traffic, occasionally going onto the curb. What was another ticket? Someone had to pay for the new streets. 

Pedestrians cursed him left and right. Whatever. Those assholes didn’t appreciate what he did for them. If it wasn’t for people like him, the city would have been overrun by darkness long ago. 

Lady luck was on his side. He made the drive without seeing any blue lights. 

Thorne smiled when he saw the red blinking sign in the distance, Apotheca, the place that soothed his soul. He could practically taste the greasy cheeseburger and fries. Maybe he’d even throw in a chocolate milkshake, just for the hell of it. 

With his mouth watering, he clicked on the blinker and eased his Harley down the narrow side street. Parking his bike, he tossed off his helmet and strode towards the large, metal double doors. The old warehouse wasn’t much to look at from the outside; the side of the building was rusty, and trash littered the ground around it. However, looks were often deceiving, a lesson he’d learned the hard way many times in his youth. 

A hulk of a man stood guard at the side door. He looked like he belonged to the Hell’s Angels with his scraggly beard, black shades, and attire. Now those were some tough assholes. “What’s up, Victor?”

The man barely lifted his shoulder and pulled open the door. In all of the years he’d known the guy, he’d never heard him speak more than a handful of words. And even those were more like grunts. Thorne didn’t know his story and really didn’t give a shit. 

His shoulders relaxed as he strolled down the dimly lit hallway. When he passed a couple snorting coke, the woman held up the tray, inviting him for a hit. There was no way in hell he’d touch that shit. Thorne didn’t even bother to respond. He’d seen too many lives lost over the years to illicit drugs, including that of the only woman he’d ever loved. Humans really needed to get their shit together. Unlike him, their time was limited. 

He eased through the double doors at the end of the hallway. The music hit him immediately, some kind of techno noise that was all the rage these days.