Chapter Six

It was a massive relief for Vito that he no longer needed to operate on pure guesswork to make progress on his goal of eliminating his unseen enemy. Gauda had readily pledged his loyalty to Vito when he returned, agreeing to be a double agent. He wasn't exactly a fountain of information, but he revealed he was born and raised in District 32 and as he grew, he used his shapeshifting abilities to make a living. His most current job instructions had come from a man in District 31.

As far as Vito knew, that was another district in the 30th row, which had a distinguished leader of a ruling group whom the sergeant allowed to exercise measures of authority and corruption equally. He assumed it was easier to rule with an iron fist without the gravitational pull that District 35 had on criminals.

He didn't actually know much about the leader or the district at all, though, as the Crimson Tides had historically focused their relations on the districts closest to them after the first District War.

"Our lack of information on other districts is a mistake," Vito was saying to Bekah, who had stopped by his office. "How can we react quickly to attacks if we aren't even sure about the inner hierarchy and power figures there?"

Bekah was significantly less alarmed. "Everyone isn't an information junkie like you. Father focused on the most immediate threats and the districts we interacted with the most, which happened to be the closest. An attack from District 32 is very out of the ordinary, if the shapeshifter's word can even be trusted."

"I believe it can be trusted."

"What, another one of your gut feelings?"

Vito met her eyes. "No. Because I strapped a small bomb to his abdomen and warned him if he tries to take it off, it'll explode, or if I find out he's doublecrossed me. Naturally, I ordered surveillance on him as well. The district's border laws are quite slack."

As he expected, Bekah's expressive eyes morphed into two beams of concern. She frowned and seemed to debate whether to say what was on her mind.

"Go on," Vito prodded.

Bekah folded her arms. "Have you turnt into a torturer of men, now?"

"When the situation requires it."

Bekah seemed shocked by his quick response, and her frown deepened. "Don't lose yourself trying to be this big, bad monster. What happened to my brother, who was squeamish if he saw too much blood? Now you're bathing yourself in it."

Vito sighed. Since when was Hades such a fan of gossip? "He no longer has that privilege," Vito answered gruffly. "Results are important."

"More important than your humanity?"

Vito felt a wave of annoyance rushing to the service. For some reason, perhaps it was the way her voice could grow wings and penetrate your soul, or that her face managed to look exceedingly judging with those empathetic eyes, but he could never keep up his guard when she truly pushed.

"It was quick."

"What?" Bekah asked, unable to decipher Vito's whisper.

"It was quick. Mercifully quick. There were more surefire ways to get results; waterboarding, decapitation, options that not only cause excruciating pain, but keep the victim alive so they can submit." He rubbed his tired eyes. "I chose an option that could get results and also gave more mercy than that murderer of innocents deserved. I'm not proud of what I had to do, but it had to be done, Bekah. You need to understand that."

Bekah folding her arms, denying him the acceptance that he suddenly found important. "Excuses are what they sound like. Don't think because the bosses before you ruled on cripling fear means that you have to do the same."

Vito leaned back in his chair and didn't say anything, instead finding the strong-set face of his father in a hanging portrait. She didn't understand. Couldn't understand. To lead a vile district, one had to be the most vile to keep them in line. That wasn't the chosen way, it was the only way.

Bekah waited for him to speak, her eyes pleading for him to see her logic and go back to being the antisocial kid that would be ripped apart by the wolves before he could throw a single punch.

"Gauda told me District 32 is filled with job opportunities for shapeshifters. He claimed it probably had the highest concentration of their kind in any district, much less the row."

Bekah's eyes betrayed her disappointment, but she allowed the change of subject. "Who?"

"The shapeshifter."

"You asked for introductions before or after killing his friend?"

"He works for me, his name is now important," Vito responded, slightly dodging her quip. "He'll be treated fairly, which is more than he deserves."

Bekah rolled her eyes. "Almost everyone we employ is a murderer, Vito."

"Of unguarded innocent people?" Vito asked, with fire in his voice. "I think not."

"You hope not," Bekah corrected.

Arguing with her was certainly irritating. Vito would almost rather be in one of those torturous meetings than be challenged by his sister's righteousness, which is why he was eternally grateful when his office phone rang. The only person with a direct line to that phone was his secretary, and he gave Bekah a meaningful look.

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"Running away from this conversation won't help," she stated, but did obey his silent suggestion for her departure. She gave him one last look of disappointment before closing the door.

Vito shook his head before picking up the phone. A forced cheery voice readily spoke.

"Hello, Sir. The city guard, Millard, has indicated that he wants to meet you urgently at the border patrol. I pressed him for more details, but he was only willing to share that an individual from District 31 is asking for your audience."

That caused Vito to perk right up. "Thank you. Have the Porsche prepared," he muttered absentmindedly before putting down the phone. He was already speculating about what this person's identity might be. Had his enemy decided to reveal themselves and boldly wage war face to face?

Vito quickly buttoned up his suit over his t-shirt and hurried out of the office. He triple-checked that his pistol was on his person and doubled back to his office and unlocked a closet that revealed an eye-watering arsenal of weaponry. It wasn't his main stash, but it was stationed there for easy access. He selected a rifle and attached a three-point sling so that he could sling it over his shoulder when he was ready.

As he descended the steps, he considered calling for Hades to drive him, but decided against it. Despite the thoughts of his siblings, he didn't need security every time he had business. He could handle himself, as they tended to forget.

The Porsche was on and ready at the end of the walkway as he pushed open the doors and returned the nods from his security. He drove at a calm pace, not letting his burning anticipation dictate his speed, as he didn't want to appear desperate to his mysterious caller.

By the time he reached the border, his body was positively buzzing with nervous anxiety. He hadn't considered the fact that Millard's information could be wrong, and it could be a whole group that surrounded him when he walked up.

Still, he had left orders to notify his siblings of his location in the next half hour, and he knew Bekah would immediately call him when she received word. If he didn't respond, he was sure a small force would be sent out to retrieve him.

Vito noted two figures at the border crossing and exited the vehicle, putting on the rifle strap in clear view of the two before walking casually up to them. Millard stepped forward with a shade of a smile on his face. He was always devilishly handsome since their school days, and now, even in the dreary uniform of a border officer, it was no different.

He rubbed his hand through sandy curly hair nervously. "I, uh, sent away the other officers so you'd have some privacy...sir."

"You don't have to call me anything you aren't accustomed to, Mill. I'm the same person." He offered his old pal a pat on the back and noted how his face bathed in relief. Millard hadn't been a simple classmate of Vito's, but one of the only people who dared to be his friend. This was because most were scared of getting on the bad side of the children of the leader of the Crimson Tides, so they had been taught to keep their distance, but Millard had no such fears.

A feeling of warmth enveloped Vito as childhood memories came back to him. The Crimson Tides were actually the reason Millard had achieved his dream of becoming an officer. When they were looking to plant people loyal to the Tides in the task force, Vito suggested Millard and his father readily complied.

Vito steeled himself, interrupting his mental trip down memory lane, and focused on the second figure who was still behind the boom barrier. Another person in Vito's position might've been shocked to see a female and immediately underestimated her abilities, but not Vito. However, he did note the beauty in her features paired with ample cheeks that indicated she was well-fed, though her figure did not border on fat.

She had russet brown skin that made her choice of bright yellow clothing stand out like a beacon. Her nose was slightly scrunched together in what Vito knew was disgust at the District's strong aroma. She looked so out of place with her short bob hairstyle and lack of District 35's characteristic wary demeanor that Vito was sure she would be the target of a mugging or scam if she were in the city alone.

"Quite the stench you people have here," the woman said when Vito walked up to her. She looked young - possibly only a year or two older than him, and she spoke with a sharp twang that made her words sound ill-pronounced to his ears.

"It's not exactly a tourist attraction; people come here to do business."

The woman nodded. "Sounds like I've come to the right place then."

"What is your business?" Vito asked, folding his arms so he looked more professional than he felt. He'd come to the border alone and was now out in the open, vulnerable to a coordinated ambush. It was dumb and reckless - unlike him.

"First, I need to be sure I'm talking to the boss of this district."

"You asked for the boss and he was called," Vito said with a scoff. "I won't perform a circus act to prove my identity, but if you waste my time, you'll have to learn the hard way."

"He is the boss. Newly crowned and all," Millard offered, earning himself a sharp look from Vito.

The woman adopted an amused look. Vito noted that she hadn't seemed much bothered by his threat, nor the rifle strapped around his chest. It betrayed experience.

"I guess congratulations are in order then."

"What is your business?" Vito repeated, praying that - for her own sake - it was the last time he'd have to ask. He was already annoyed, and according to his sister, he was becoming some unrecognizable monster, so who knew what he was capable of?

The woman grew serious and shot a pointed look at Millard. "Are you sure you want to talk business with an audience around?"

Vito ensured that Millard was paying attention before he spoke. He found that his childhood friend had positioned himself right beside him and drew his own gun so that he appeared as security. Vito smiled inwardly, then looked evenly at the woman. "My men can be trusted to keep their lips tight."

"That may be the case, but can you be so sure that everyone is who they appear to be?"

The knowing smirk that punctuated her sentence sent Vito's brain into overdrive. 'Just how much did she know? How could she know?', he wondered.

"Have you been having trouble recently..." She waited for Vito to supply his name, but when he didn't, she settled for his title, "newly wed boss of District 35."

Vito shrugged casually. "Being a boss is troublesome work, you'll have to be more specific."

The woman smiled broadly. She seemed to be enjoying this dancing of tongues much more than Vito was. "This trouble would've likely involved some shapeshifters. There's been a large intake of the kind in this district recently."

Vito's face remained neutral outwardly, but he was frowning inwardly. Large intake? Was there more running around than Gauda and his deceased partner? Did Gauda purposely omit this information?

The woman took his silence as an indication to continue. "I've come to offer information and my services."

Vito pretended to judge her innocuous appearance with his eyes and forced a smirk. "And exactly what service can you provide? There are no model shows here, I fear."

She took the sexism in stride, speaking as if his words had no meaning. "Good, because that is of no interest to me. What I do relates to shapeshifters," she paused to cast a distrusting look at Millard before continuing, "I can distinguish between a shapeshifter and a normie."

"Quite a claim," Vito commented with a raised eyebrow. He wasn't sure if such a thing even existed. "To claim to do something that isn't easily proved and wager that as your value; not the most intelligent tactic, 'less you're dealing with a fool."

The woman tapped her chin with a finger. "That's weird, I could've sworn you had someone in your possession who could help us prove it."

Again, knowing more than she should. This time it was too direct for him to dance around. "And how would you know that?"

"Because your enemy was notified and plans to use him to drive a knife through your heart."