Gangs Aren't My Style (A Black Death Novel)

Chapter 16 - Time Will Not Erase

Gangs Aren't My Style

Book I of the Black Death Trilogy

PART ONE: Tears Fall When You See The Truth

Chapter 16 - Time Will Not Erase

"He's back." The words came through the phone menacingly, holding a sure promise of tribulation.

Harsh breaths impregnated the line and there was a pause before the husky voice of the gang's commander in chief surrounded in reply. "Do we know what he wants?"

Daniil sighed, shaking his head before realizing that the man on the other end of the conversation could not see him. "No, but he claims that he is going to use my personal slave to bring the gang down. It seems to be a game for him and now six of my best men are dead."

"I see," James drawled, confirming he had heard his comrade's words and that the following silence was only a moment of thought. "Daniil," he finally responded, "I know you wanted to train your personal slave on your own but until this threat had been dealt with, I would prefer that I myself take over her management. She seems to hold a connection to the supposedly dead leader of the Silent Assassins and I have to know what we are up against."

"I will set up the details and have her in flight to you within a few days," Daniil confirmed, nodding slightly to himself as he scrolled through a mental checklist.

"Excellent. There is just one more thing... While she is with me, I am not going to treat her like your personal slave but rather the prisoner that she is. I need answers."

"I understand," Daniil replied. He knew that this was an instance where the normal respect of boundaries given to another member's personal slave would have to be bypassed. James would go to any length in order to protect his own and propriety would only slow down the results of his conquest. "Good luck, my friend."

For the second night in a row, Ally found herself laying awake in wait. The shock collar was still locked around her neck, chafing at the skin beneath the thick metal device, but she had not been summoned since the first night it had been secured. Exhaustion clawed at the edges of her consciousness but trepidation kept her alert.

Just as her eyes were finally beginning to droop and it seemed she would lose her fight against the darkness, the door slammed open. Ally lurched upright in her small bed, her hand flying to her heart in fright as a familiar figure slipped into the dimly lit room.

"What are you doing here?" she exclaimed, clutching the thin cotton sheet to her chest in an attempt to cover herself. The entering male was not a friend, and beneath the bedding she was only clothed in a short, flimsy nightgown.

"There's been a change of plans," Sam informed her, stepping closer so that his profile was completely highlighted by the light spilling in through the open doorway. A five o'clock shadow was visible along his jaw and his clothes were rumpled. Creases lined the expanse of his shirt, half of which hung untucked from his low-riding jeans. He gave off the appearance someone who hadn't slept a wink the past night. "You're being transferred. We need to leave now."

Ally's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his words. She leaned away from him as he approached, following his path with a weary gaze. Her body was tensed, prepared for either fight or flight should he make any sudden movements to seize her.

As if noticing her apprehension, Sam sighed and slowed his gate to a slow traipse. "I don't want to hurt you, Ally, but you have to cooperate with me. Either you can come with me willingly or I can take you down kicking and screaming. However, make no mistake, you will find yourself tossed onto that plane no matter which you choose."