Tag You're It!
Preston
"You will handle this from now on, but I will be supervising. Gratulations Preston. You're the new Death Kings handler," Doctor Ryder Fuchs Jamison says.
"Are you sure want to let me do this on my own?" I question, disbelieving in my new role.
"You got this. Failure is one of the best ways to learn how to sink or swim," Ryder says.
Cue the mental sarcasm. Oh thanks, Doc Fox, that's helpful.
I was just fine being the Doctor's assistant to help him with maintaining Death Kings Security Inc. A company made up of mercenaries and assassins for hire. We work for the government but also take private clients. We carefully evaluate each private case to ensure that the targets deserve to die or that the client is just seeking revenge.
Weston is going to be so mad at me for agreeing to this. My older brother is a member of C.H.A.O.S., one of the first mercenary teams the Death Kings put together. Currently, he is the psychiatrist for all Death Kings members. You don't get cleared for jobs without seeing him for therapy.
C.H.A.O.S. controls Texas in the shadows and Tempest just needs to realize they won't be like C.H.A.O.S. because Seraphim's Serpents control Louisiana. I may call them in if needed, but they have their families and own issues to deal with. But them, along with the original Kings and the Death Riders MC, is a last resort since they're considered retired. They are only in their early 30s and 40s, so not of retirement age but in the world we play in, they should be dead by now.
Death Kings Family Rule #3: Support one another.
Many members have mental disorders, including psychopathy and sociopathy, and have been killed before. That's not even touching all the trauma our team members go through with past experiences and the toll taking lives places on them. They are violent individuals who have learned to be functional members of society.
My job is to balance all the teams. I could use more help if I'm being honest with myself. But, hey! This is my life.
The tech team keeps us safe in the field by doing recon via computers and creating weapons and other things. My younger brother Stetson is part of this team.
Stetson is a genius at making protective gear. Bulletproof fibers for everyday clothing and ball caps are pretty cool. Additionally, he works for the United Department of Defense, Infiltration and Espionage. UDDIE for short. But the Death Kings get first dibs on his inventions. Some of them he won't let the government possess, keeping them either to himself or strictly for use by our various teams.
There are the mercenary teams who usually have at least one assassin and one tech member on each team. A select few have a field medic on the team, so Ryder along with Carley Hartley are on call to administer health care. Rory Beadu, Ryder's long-time registered nurse helps when called. The Knight twins may help, but it's unsure who'll do the stitching or give shots, the veterinarian or the pediatrician.
I have a few individual assassins that we have working for us, but eventually, I will place them with a team as well. So long as Kassius and AC stop attempting to kill one another during training that is. I swear those two prodigy teenage assassins are so much alike, which is why neither of them gets along.
The murder twins give me a headache so I'm thankful Sawyer is dealing with the buttnuggets, as Carley likes to call them. Ryder and I are working overtime to clean up their latest mess.
Then there are Camden McCoy and Slater Zen. Ryder has been saying for a little under a decade he would like to pull them out from underneath their current predicament with the Ravagers. I could use their leadership knowledge and experience to help me run the Death Kings smoothly.
There is a knock on the office door. Ryder tells whoever is on the other side to enter. In walks Grimm Jamison's boys, Xavier and Ronin.
"Use them to get Kill-shot and Slayer out of the Ravagers," Ryder orders.
I consider the two men. One is dirty blonde-headed with violet eyes, he is taller than me at 5'11" and goes by the name Razz. The other has brown hair with sectorial heterochromia eyes of turquoise and golden brown. Roan is tall, around my older brother's height at 6'4".
I look nothing like my older brother Weston. I'm short for one, barely 5’9”. I didn't get the height that he did from his father. Mine and Stetson's father was a 5'7" Japanese American and our mother was a 5'3" African American woman.
Weston's father was a professional basketball player. Not that Weston knows this since Ryder never told him. West told Ryder to keep the information to himself because he didn't want to know the guy who never knew he had knocked up a prostitute.
Ryder runs DNA testing on all family members. I'm all for continuing that tradition. This way we can look at blood type and genetic markers in case of transfusions or needing a donor. For example, about two years ago, Ryder underwent a coronary transplant so he could see out of his damaged eye. It wouldn't have been possible without a donor tissue match. There is also the time Carter Moreau of Tempest needed a liver transplant a year ago since he went septic and started failing.
"Do you two want to be part of a team?" I ask them.
"We want to find our girl and we want her back in our lives," Razz responds.
"I have blood on my hands and I'm good with more," Roan deadpans with a shrug.
"Neither of you has killed anyone, like me, and both of you were diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder," I inform them that yes, I know who they are. "Both of you are great at manipulation and lie as easily as breathing, which makes you two of the best at infiltration. People like you raised me, but what I don't understand is why you're obsessed with that girl who moved to the Bay. Why is she different?"
Not that it matters. I understand how they became sociopaths. For Ronin, it was neglect as a child. For Razz, it was undiagnosed oppositional defiance disorder that turned into a conduct disorder.
Roan pops a questioning brow at me.
"I have informed myself about all the family members. There is nothing about you I don't know, including this girl you are looking for, which brings you two to Buckskin. Artemis Agrotera Vance. She is in her fourth year at Palomino Bay University, majoring in forensic psychology. I wouldn't mind having someone like her work for us." I rub the black stubble against my chin.
No matter how hard I try to grow a beard, it always comes in blotchy. My hair is thick and curly, so that's a plus.
"If you two want this girl, she is going to have to become a Death King to make the relationship work. Her career might thrive with all the practice she will gain by studying Death Kings' members. Let's face it, some of our guys are criminally insane, especially AC and Kass."
"Enough with the digs on my kids," Ryder grumbles, shaking his white head.
"Adopted kids," I point out.
"Regardless, we are raising them. C.H.A.O.S. raised you, and the Death Riders raised these two. Therefore, you were all raised by professional killers."
He makes a valid point. It makes me wonder if one family member were to be put on trial and punished, it might cause a chain reaction because we are all connected and accomplices. Not that would happen with our connections and being government-sanctioned.
"Whatever. I still need help training the murder twins," I snark at Ryder.
AC and Kass aren't biologically twins, but they are around the same age and they both have identical personalities.
"This is why I made you the handler. You are the only person with balls enough to sass me that isn't part of my polycule," Ryder proclaims, pointing at my face.
He is right. No one dares talk to this man the way I do. They fear him. I have a healthy amount of respect for him, but I also know what I can get away with.
"I thought it was because you love me the most," I joke with him.
"I think you're the most disobedient and annoying person I know. If you count that as loving you, then I guess I do," Ryder deadpans, but the sparkle in his eyes and minuet tilt to the corner of his mouth lets me know he is teasing.
"I'll take that as yes!" I beam at him, which causes Razz to snort as he attempts to hide his laughter.
"Your generation and the next are disrespectful little shits over 95% of the time," Ryder retorts.
"See there, even you recognize we can be respectful when we want to be," Razz snarks back.
I grin. I like him.
"Oh Razz, I think you just became my bestie," I wiggle my brows at his suggestively.
"Now that's over, let's discuss how to get your other two team members out of the Ravagers. I put the request to the feds to have Slater moved to the Death Kings. I have it finalized. He full-fledged Death King now, not that he knows that yet."
"Are you going to tell him?" I question. Though already suspect what the answer is.
"No. You and your team will when the time is right. Death Kings assignment, build your team. Your team will be in charge of training and providing backup when needed. You are the new Death Kings, so me and my team can retire."
I look at the grins on Razz and Roan's faces. Well, this is going to be an interesting new adventure. I have a feeling at least one or two of our hands will not remain unstained with blood by the time the team becomes official.