“I’m in,” Mercy declared.
Wylder frowned. “You’ve stuck your neck out investigating these guys enough already.”
“I haven’t done enough until the Bend is back to the almost-peaceful existence it had before.”
“We don’t want to paint a target on your back.”
Mercy rolled her eyes. “As if I don’t already have one? No one’s managed to hassle me yet, and I’ve been out every night.”
“You have?” I asked automatically with a twinge of worry.
Mercy looked at me briefly before turning back to Wylder without answering me. I guessed it had been kind of a stupid question. Had I really expected Mercy Katz to stay cooped up in this place for five days?
“Exactly,” Wylder said to her. “You’ve done your part; now hang back and relax.”
Mercy let out a huff of breath. “Wylder Noble, how many times have we had this conversation before? You’d think you’d know better by now.”
“She’s right, Wylder,” Gideon said matter-of-factly. “She’s going to come no matter what you say.”
“Exactly.” Mercy folded her arms over her chest with a triumphant expression.
Wylder sighed. “Fine. But at least let us take the lead. We still have a lot more experience with actual brawls than you do.”
My stomach knotted. Mercy had seen me in action before, but I hadn’t enjoyed knowing she was witnessing the violence I’d become capable of. Today might be even worse. But I couldn’t exactly tell her she shouldn’t come for fear it might ruin her impression of me.
I wasn’t the same guy she’d dated—the guy she’d loved—five years ago. We both knew that.
We chucked the plates in the sink for later and headed down to the unobtrusive car we’d picked for this trip, not wanting anyone down here to realize who was in it. The hot summer sun blazed over us, but even in the middle of the day, the streets were quieter than I remembered. Only a couple of people ambled by on the sidewalks, their eyes darting nervously when they saw us.
“It’s eerie out here,” Gideon said.
“Everyone’s sticking close to home or work,” Mercy said. “Trying to avoid getting caught in any crossfire.”
She frowned, but in a way that was better for us. I slid into the driver’s seat. “That’ll make it easier to find our targets. Who are we looking for exactly?”
Mercy got in the back and stretched out her legs. “We’re probably better off looking for the Storm people. The Red Shark guys seem to lay pretty low except when they’re on the attack.”
Kaige rubbed his forehead as he sat next to her. “Hold on. I feel like I’ve missed a whole movie. What the hell are you talking about? Shark, Storm, is this the fucking National Geographic Channel?”
Mercy guffawed and explained about the two groups she’d noticed clashing in the Bend over the past week. From Wylder’s expression as he got into the front passenger seat, I could tell she’d already filled him in.
“Same cycle, different faces,” he said. “Let’s look for some of Colt’s former men, the ones who seem to have thrown in with the Storm and probably Xavier. I’m very interested to hear what they have to say about all this.”
I started the engine and pulled out into the street. I hadn’t lived in the Bend for years, but I still had a decent idea of where the tough guys might hang out during the day. We cruised by various bars that hadn’t opened yet and other businesses. We were just coming up on one of the smaller parks with a rusted slide-and-swings set when a chemical burning smell reached my nose.
A second later, a plume of smoke came into view farther across the patchy field. Several guys were standing around a big metal trash can that was spouting flames. It looked like they’d set up a grill over the top and were roasting burger patties on it, like some kind of trailer park picnic. A few of them were gulping from beers, and others were smoking what looked like joints—blatantly, as if they didn’t care who saw them.
Mercy leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “At least a couple of them were with the Steel Knights. I recognize that guy with the blond buzz cut and the one with the snake tattoo around his neck. That’s got to be a Storm group.”
“Perfect,” Wylder said, even though we were outnumbered close to two to one. “Park the car. We’ll crack some heads until they’re down or running, but hold on to those two you’re sure were Steel Knights so we can ask them a few questions after.”
They weren’t expecting a fight, definitely not one as brutal as I knew Wylder wanted to deliver. We could take them. I stopped the car by the curb, and we all got out except Gideon, who hung back with a tense expression.
Instinctively, I tapped my knife in my pocket and my gun at my back, checking the position of my weapons. It was better if it didn’t come to blades or guns when we were just trying to send a message, but we had to be ready for anything.
Wylder sauntered right up to the group around the trash can. The humid late-summer air stunk of strong weed and cheap beer. The men looked up at him, a few of them taking on defensive postures.
“Who the fuck are you?” snarled a block-headed guy near the front, but I could tell a few of them, including the two Mercy had pointed out, recognized the Noble heir. They stiffened more than the others, their fingers tightening around their beer bottles.