“No one I can think of.” It couldn’t have been Dad, right? He hadn’t even known what Colt was planning before he’d died, or he’d never have walked into that restaurant for the rehearsal dinner in the first place. “Maybe… Maybe Colt brought them in too? He figured he and Xavier would have crushed the Nobles by now, and he could get the Red Shark’s people to clash with the Storm and they’d destroy each other, leaving everything for him?”
Gideon ran his thumb over his lip ring. “It’s possible, but I’m not sure I can see him planning anything that risky and complex.”
Me neither. But then, Colt had gotten pretty crazed in the last few weeks before his death. Who knew what all had been going on in his head?
“Or could it have been someone lower down in the Steel Knights—or the Claws?” Kaige asked. “Someone who was pissed off about what Colt was doing?”
“They wouldn’t have had much authority to orchestrate some kind of invasion,” Wylder said.
Rowan cocked his head. “They wouldn’t necessarily have needed it if they put on a good enough front. They might even have pretended to be someone else, and they’re not dead after all.”
“Yeah.” A shiver ran down my back. If people had been working behind the scenes to bring in not just one but two different gangs we’d never heard of, who else might turn up next? “I guess it doesn’t matter all that much now.”
“That’s what I said.” Wylder marched back toward us and slapped his hand on the back of the loveseat. “It sounds like the Red Shark’s people are already considering leaving. The Storm is obviously the bigger threat. I figure we should go out and mess with them some more today.”
Yes. At the thought of taking some kind of action, as vague as it was right now, my back straightened and my resolve steadied me. It didn’t matter where these assholes had come from or why—we were going to kick their butts right back to where they belonged. “Sounds good to me. Where are we headed?”
He tossed his car key in his hand. “Like Gideon said, we spotted a few of them out on the streets on our way in. Let’s drive around a bit, find the biggest fish, and see if they can lead us to someone even bigger. We want to hit them where it’ll hurt even more next time.”
We tramped down the steps and into the fresh evening air. Wylder got into the driver’s seat of the van. Kaige followed him, and Gideon sat down on the bench to scan the video feeds, Rowan joining him. I stood behind the front seats, peering through the windshield as Wylder pulled out of the alley where he’d parked.
“There’s a skatepark about ten blocks that way,” I said, pointing. “It’s always been a popular spot for dealing.”
“We’ll check that out first, then,” Wylder said.
We cruised by the concrete ramps and stopped where we had a decent view of the park. The streetlamps had flickered on to cut through the deepening shadows with a yellow glow.
A couple of guys were standing at the edge of one of those pools of light, their hands in their pockets, looking shifty. No skateboards, either. I peered around and spotted the edge of a duffle bag poking from where they’d tucked it away behind a nearby bench.
“That’s probably where their stash is,” I said, motioning to it. “Looks like they brought a lot. They must be planning on doing a lot of business tonight.”
“We should keep an eye on things,” Wylder said. “Once they start bringing in a decent amount of cash, they’ll be handing it off to someone. When that happens, we follow those guys to wherever the money’s going. Get closer to the heart of their operations.”
“Right,” Kaige said, leaning forward in his seat, his gaze intent on the dealers.
Wylder nudged him. “We’re only watching. Not engaging. At least not until I give the word.”
Kaige nodded, but it was hard to tell how much he was really listening.
Wylder tuned the radio to a rock station, and wailing guitars filled the van’s interior. As Gideon tapped away on his laptop, the screens mounted around us wavered to show views from traffic and surveillance cameras from around the neighborhood. “I’ll give you a shout if I see anyone who looks likely heading this way.”
But the only people who turned up during the next half hour were customers. As I’d suspected, the dealers knew they’d picked a good spot. Several people on their own or in pairs wandered by as if they just happened to be taking a walk that way, but stopped briefly to chat with the sketchy-looking men. Cash and baggies of pale gray powder changed hands.
“It’s definitely Glory,” Kaige muttered. “Fucking Xavier.”
“I’ve been hearing more and more reports from people I know on the streets,” Rowan said. “It’s getting increasingly popular. Unfortunately, I think their stunt at the waterfront property paid off.”
Kaige just growled at that.
I was just rolling the tension out of my shoulders when a few kids who looked around eleven or twelve showed up with skateboards at the far end of the park. They pushed off, the wheels of their boards rattling loud enough that I could hear it through the walls of the van when the next song petered out. The kids laughed and cheered each other on as one and then another hurtled across the curved surface, turning a few tricks that weren’t too far off from my parkour skills.
“They’re pretty good,” I said, just as Kaige snarled, “What the fuck?”
The dealers were sauntering closer to where the kids were riding. When one of the boys stepped off to the side to catch his breath, the men sidled even closer and started speaking to him. The kid looked a bit taken aback, his shoulders coming up, but he raised his chin, putting on a tough front like everyone learned to pretty early on in the Bend.
His friends came over to see what was going on. One of the dealers fished a small baggie out of his pocket and dangled it briefly before closing his fingers to hide it against his palm. My stomach twisted.
Wylder had tensed in his seat. “Pricks,” he hissed, but he stayed in his seat. “When we’re ready, they’re going to regret coming into our city so fucking much.”