J. Redmerski - Behind The Hands That Kill

Osiris leans forward and folds his hands atop the table.

“A long time ago,” he says, “I was the one who commissioned The Order to take my family out. Victor happened to be the assassin handed the job. My hatred for them hasn’t changed—I want them dead as much as Victor does.” He backtracks a little, shrugs, and adds, “Well, after what Artemis did to Victor’s woman, it’s possible he wants her dead a little more than I do—common ground.”

I remember now. Something about the name Osiris did feel somewhat familiar when Victor told me on the phone about this meeting.

I look across the long table at the man. “You’re Osiris Stone,” I say. “You and my brother, from what I understand, aren’t the best of friends.” My brother never told me the full story about the Stone family, and his involvement with them, but he did tell me that Osiris tied him to a chair and beat him—all the more reason not to trust this guy.

“No, we wouldn’t be friends,” Osiris admits. “I was sort of forced to…push Faust to his breaking point, I guess you can say. It wasn’t my choice; The Order made what I did to him, mandatory per my contract.”

“And what exactly did you do?” Nora asks.

“It doesn’t matter,” Osiris says. “That’s not why I’m here. I’m here because Victor asked me to be.”

I still can’t believe this shit. “You expect me to believe that my brother hired you to do a job for him ?” I ask with disbelief.

Nora laughs. “Yeah, that’s like Picasso hiring you to paint him a picture”—she stands up, throws her hands in the air—“Are you fucking kidding me? This is bullshit, Niklas.”

I stand, too, and begin to walk the length of the table, ignoring Nora, but always quietly agreeing with her.

“OK, Osiris,” I say, “so Victor needs your expertise because you know the targets better than he does; does that about sum it up?”

He nods. “Something like that.” Then he stands as I get closer, and I realize how much taller than me he is.

“So you’re going to tag along with him and me on the hunt,” I assume.

“No,” Osiris says, and that provokes a few raised eyebrows in the room, including mine. “Apparently, Victor is sitting this one out, from what I gathered in my meeting with him. Of course, he didn’t tell me what he plans to do, but he isn’t leading this particular mission. He’s paying me and my sister to do it for him.”

“So what does this have to do with me?” I ask. “You said you came here to recruit.”

“Not you,” he says. “Victor told me to get with you about recruiting two of your best operatives who’ll be going with us.” He glances around the table. “I’m assuming they’re here?”

“Yeah, they are,” I say, and then point at myself. “If this is to hunt the ones who hurt Izzy, then one of them will be me.” I point at Nora. “And that blond over there.” If I’d known what this was about beforehand, I never would’ve chosen those two noisemakers!

Osiris shakes his head. “The blond I can accept,” he says. “Victor said you’d probably volunteer yourself, but he needs you here.”

Why isn’t Victor going after these people himself? If Izzy was my woman, I sure as hell wouldn’t leave this up to someone else; I’d hunt them into their graves. And why isn’t my brother here for this meeting, either? What the hell is going on?

Fredrik stands; he leans over slightly, propping the tips of all ten fingers on the table in front of him.

“It appears our leader is taking a leave of absence,” he says, practically reading my mind. “He’s leaving the most important mission of his life up to someone else; leaving his renegade brother in charge of his organization—such surprising and reckless actions can only mean one thing: Victor Faust has finally fallen. I wonder how long it’ll take him to get back up again.”

Leave it to Fredrik Gustavsson, the one person in the room most intimate with his demons, to know when another man has been defeated by his.

Fredrik leaves his chair and walks past us, heading to the exit. “I’m at your disposal, Niklas, whenever you need me for an interrogation,” he says, slowing his pace. “But please keep in mind my other duties, primarily with my current mission.”

I smirk. “Yeah, Fredrik, I’ll try not to pull you away from your weird fetishes if I can help it.”

“I appreciate it,” he says at the door, then pushes it open and leaves.

I turn back to Osiris, and everyone else in the room.

“OK.” I nod, thinking to myself. Then I pluck the cigarette from behind my ear, a lighter from my pocket, and set the end aflame. “Aside from me, the blond is the best operative in the First Division—”

“We both know which one us is the better operative,” Nora cuts in snidely, and I continue to ignore her.

I point briefly at the suit-clad woman.

“Agent O’Hara will be your second recruit,” I say. “And if something happens to one of them”—I grin at Nora—“then Agent Asthma over there can take her place.” I take a drag and inhale deeply, then say to Osiris with smoke in my lungs, “You said Victor hired you and your sister?”

Osiris nods. “Hestia,” he answers. “The only one of my family who I trust.”

“And this Hestia ,” Nora inquires, leery, “is as willing and eager as you, to betray her own flesh and blood?”

“As a matter of fact she is,” Osiris says.

“And just how… capable is she?” Nora interrogates. “Better yet, how capable are you ?”

Osiris grins, and licks his lips subtly. “Oh, I’m very capable,” he answers, though I get the feeling his answer has nothing to do with the mission. “I can assure you that, Miss Kessler, is it?”

Nora’s body movement shifts from rigid and untrusting to relaxed and interested. What the fuck is this, some kind of mating ritual?

“Why don’t you tell us more about this Artemis and Apollo,” I interrupt. “And hell, while you’re at it, you can tell us about you and Hestia, and everything else, too. I’d like to know exactly how we got to this moment, why Izabel ended up on the wrong end of a blade, and how my brother ended up falling from grace.”

Osiris spends the next thirty minutes telling us everything he knows: his history with my brother; Victor’s history with Artemis; what Victor told him happened in Venezuela—of course, this is all Osiris’s account; before I believe any of it I’ll need Victor’s account, too. And when the inevitable questions about Hestia arise, the devil hears us talking about her and she shows up right on cue.

“I’m only here for the money,” Hestia says as she struts through the room toward her brother—goddamn she’s beautiful. “Let’s get this out of the way first: I’m not here to be anyone’s friend, or partner—Osiris is my only partner. There’s nothing in my contract with Victor Faust that says I need to put my life on the line to save any one of you, if you step in shit too deep to pull yourself out of. I’m here to do a job, collect my cut, and then take my sweet ass back to Venezuela.”

Yeah, that’s a sweet ass, all right.

I glance at Nora, sensing that at any moment her claws are going to come out—though it has nothing to do with me; this room just isn’t big enough for two alpha females.

Nora walks toward Hestia, bold and fearless the way only Nora can be—this could turn out to be an interesting night. “Trust me,” Nora says, smirking, and crossing her arms, “I’m the last person here who would step in shit.” She moves closer to Hestia, stands just a foot away; there’s a dark smile in Hestia’s eyes that sends a slight chill up the back of my neck. And I kinda like it.