Chapter 60
Raven
"And then—" Cole spun around the living room, arms extended like he was holding an invisible steering wheel, "—the announcer's like, 'AND HERE COMES MARTINEZ RACING, THE UNDERDOGS TAKING THE LEAD!'"
I sank deeper into our worn couch, watching my brother's one-man show with a bemused smile. He'd been at it for twenty minutes straight since we got home, alternating between driver poses and crowd impressions. It was... endearing, in a strange way I wasn't used to.
"The crowd goes wild!" He cupped his hands around his mouth. "MAR-TI-NEZ! MAR-TI-NEZ!"
"I think you might need to work on the team chant," I suggested dryly.
Cole stopped mid-cheer, his face suddenly serious. "You're right. Maybe something with more punch? Like... 'FEEL THE HEAT!'" He pumped his fist in the air. "Or maybe 'BURN RUBBER, BURN SOULS!'"
"Definitely not that last one," I said, struggling to maintain my composure. "Sounds like we're planning to drag race into hell."
He laughed, eyes bright with an excitement I'd never seen before. "We're challenging the fucking Velocity Kings, Raven. We might as well be."
I shrugged with practiced nonchalance, even as I mentally calculated what resources I'd need to pull this off. The Velocity Kings weren't just good—they were professional-level good, with corporate sponsorships and custom machines that would make most NASCAR teams jealous. But I hadn't survived as the world's deadliest assassin by backing down from impossible odds.
"We'll be fine," I said. "I have... connections."
Cole was too amped up to question this vague assurance. He bounded across the living room and before I could react, launched himself at me in a full-body tackle hug that knocked the wind from my lungs.
"Thank you, Raven!" His arms tightened around me with surprising strength. "You made my dream come true! This is everything I've wanted since I was twelve!"
For a moment, I froze, completely unsure how to respond. Physical contact in my previous life usually meant someone was about to die—usually not me. The earnest gratitude in his voice felt foreign, almost uncomfortable.
"Can't... breathe..." I managed to say, only half-joking.
"Sorry, sorry!" Cole laughed, still not letting go.
That's when I felt it—a shift in the air, almost imperceptible. A presence that hadn't been there a moment before. My skin prickled with awareness, but Cole's bear hug had me pinned.
Fuck.
Nash Wilder emerged from the shadowed hallway like a predator materializing from mist, each deliberate step making my pulse quicken. How long had he been there? How had I not sensed him earlier? The complacency of this new life was making me sloppy, dangerous.
But what truly froze my blood wasn't his silent approach—it was his eyes. Fixed on Cole, they held a glacial, lethal intent I recognized all too well. It was the same look I'd worn countless times before pulling a trigger.
Double fuck.
"Cole," I said, my voice suddenly firm as I disentangled myself with a strength that made him stumble back. "Don't you have race preparations to take care of? Shouldn't you start researching the Velocity Kings' driving patterns?"
Cole blinked, momentarily thrown by my abrupt shift. "I mean, yeah, but—"
"Now would be good." I gave him a pointed look, one that somehow got through.
"Alright, alright!" He held up his hands in surrender, completely oblivious to Nash's presence behind him. "Didn't realize my enthusiasm was that annoying."
"It's not," I said, my eyes never leaving Nash. "I just think preparation is important."
As Cole bounded up the stairs, I counted each of his footsteps, waiting until I heard his bedroom door close before I allowed my posture to change. The casual teenager facade fell away like a discarded mask, and I let the cold, lethal presence of Phantom rise to the surface.
Nash noticed the shift instantly. His eyebrow raised a fraction of a millimeter—the only acknowledgment he gave to the killing intent now radiating from me as I closed the distance between us.
"You know," I said, my voice low and sharp, "if you were anyone else looking at my brother that way, I'd make you regret setting foot in this house. Who are you really, Nash?"
Nash's predatory gaze transformed with unsettling speed, melting into something warm and almost playful. The transition was so seamless it caught me off guard.
"Impressive intensity," he murmured, his voice like velvet over steel. "What's the matter? Feeling protective?"
I kept my expression neutral, though inside I was recalculating everything. "You didn't answer my question."
"You know exactly who I am," he replied with elegant indifference, his fingers adjusting his sleeve cuff. "A guest in this house. Nothing more."
His eyes flickered toward the stairs. "Your brother seems very excited today. You two have quite the... bond."
His pause before the word 'bond' carried implications I didn't care for. I took another step closer, refusing to be intimidated by his height advantage.
"This has nothing to do with you," I said coldly. "And while we're on the subject, how long are you planning to stay here, Nash?"
A smile played at the corner of his mouth, neither warm nor cold, but calculating. "I'll leave when I find what I'm looking for."
My heartbeat accelerated traitorously. He's hunting for Phantom. For the Satan's Heart. For me. But how could he know to look here, in this random family? Unless...
Nash watched the microexpressions crossing my face with evident satisfaction. "What's wrong? Afraid of something?"
"I haven't decided what I'll do when I find it," he added, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.
I hesitated, then forced myself to regain control. "Whatever you're looking for has nothing to do with me. But that look you gave my brother—" I stepped closer, unafraid, "—I don't appreciate it."
"Is that so?" Something dangerous flickered behind his eyes. "His actions irritate me sometimes."
"What the actual fuck?" I blurted out, genuinely caught off guard by his candor.
Nash's expression softened imperceptibly. "If it bothers you, I'll keep that particular look to myself."
Then, before I could react, his hands moved with preternatural speed, one capturing my wrist while the other slid possessively around my waist, pulling me against him with effortless dominance. The sudden contact sent an electric current through my body.
"Perhaps you'd prefer I save this particular look just for you?" His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, thumb tracing a deliberate line along my jawline. "Tell me, Raven... does this make your pulse race in a different way?"
His eyes, now inches from mine, transformed again—this time into something heated and intense that sent an entirely different kind of danger signal through my system. I'd faced down drug lords, assassins, and trained killers without blinking, but this... this was something my extensive training had never prepared me for.
My killing intent evaporated like morning dew, replaced by a strange, fluttering vulnerability that I'd never experienced in either of my lives.
"You..." I began, but the rest of the sentence dissolved somewhere between my brain and my lips.