Chapter Forty

CHAPTER FORTY

O h, great. The douchebag was back.

As Apex passed the bumper of that gray BMW, the last person on the planet he wanted to deal with was Mahrci’s ex. But hey, the night was determined to be god-awful, so why not?

Pyrocant , he believed was the right word. Someone or something that was bound to destroy you.

Every time he thought he’d reached another low with the wolven? There was something even shittier revealed. And now? There was just fuck all left of him. He was utterly hollow as he went up the steps to the porch, and entered the big house. Kicking the door shut, he looked past the duffle bag he’d left by the exit, to the empty ones still in the study. Quite a collection, but as Mayhem would have said, at least they were in order.

The idea of taking all of them back to Caldwell in that SUV required way more energy than he had. Like the vehicle, he was just going to leave them.

Whestmorel could deal with it all when he came up here the night after next.

On that note, Apex glanced up at the security unit mounted on the ceiling.

Yup, he was quitting, too. He’d done what he’d set out to do, and now it was time for the chips to fall where they did. At least he could have the satisfaction of knowing that he’d—

“Where is he?”

At the sound of the male voice, Apex looked over to the hearth. Remis was standing by the thing, one foot up on the ledge where people sat to warm themselves, his gray suit jacket unbuttoned, the bruising on his face starting to swell already.

“Where’s who,” Apex asked.

“Your friend.” The aristocrat put his foot down. “The one who assaulted me.”

“He’s not here.” Man, he was so bored of all this shit. “He left.”

“Where did he go?”

“He left, that’s all I know. He’s a drifter, so no, I don’t know where he lives, but I have his phone number, and you’re welcome to it. Whatever the hell went on between the two of you has nothing to do with me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

Apex picked up his duffle. “We don’t need to have a problem, you and me.”

“It’s a little late for that—”

“Let me stop you, before you hurt yourself.” He pointed around the ceiling. “You know how much your boss, Whestmorel, hates distractions—and you ending up on life support because you do something stupid with me right now is the worst kind. It’s expensive, and carries a long recovery, so it comes with a delay.”

Not that that aristocrat’s nights weren’t numbered already.

Remis sauntered over, putting one loafer in front of the other in an S-curve, like he was a supermodel. Man, that left eye was bloodshot. Maybe because the doorknob got him in the socket.

“Tell me where your friend is, and you’re free to go.”

“I’m free to go anyway.”

“No, you’re not.”

Well, maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to use this fucking idiot for a punching bag , Apex thought as he put the bag down again.

Or he could just put a cap in the idiot’s brain right here and now and be on his w—

The blow to the back of his head came from out of nowhere.

As the floor rushed up to meet him, he thought, Sonofabitch. This is going to hurt . . .

And the last thing he saw were all those animal heads, the glass eyes staring at him as if they were welcoming him to the club of dead things in the house.

“Callum,” he said hoarsely as he passed out.