The room smelled of smoke and steel. Dim light flickered from a bare bulb overhead, casting sharp shadows on the walls. Kade sat in a leather chair, sleeves rolled up, a switchblade glinting in his hand.

Across from him, a man bled into the floor.

“You were supposed to keep tabs on Dante,” Kade said calmly, wiping the blade on a cloth. “Instead, he slipped right through your fingers. Again.”

“I—I didn’t know he’d have her with him—”

“Her,” Kade echoed, leaning ...