Seven+Four (Angels of Wrath Book 6)

I walk down the white hospital corridor. The silence is disrupted only by the sound of my heels hitting the epoxy floor—I regret wearing these shoes; they are pretty but not fit for a hospital. This is the coma patient wing, therefore the hushed atmosphere is the norm here.

I stop my advance as I see Ollie and Rague just outside Meg’s room. Ollie has his back against the wall, legs wrapped around my brother’s waist. Rague is looming over his husband without taking his attention away for even a second. His grip on Ollie’s throat is tight, but relaxed, his thumb smoothing slowly over the skin. Ollie’s body loosens further with every word Rague softly utters while tracking Ollie’s every reaction. Their lips move closer, and I suddenly avert my curious eyes from the intensely sensual exchange, giving the lovers some privacy.

“Hey, Sari!” Ollie calls out a moment later, making me turn to look at them again. He’s sliding down Rague’s body as he gestures me closer.

“Hi, guys. Everything okay?”

Rague nods; he’s not very talkative, but I like that about him.

“Did you like the lake house?” Ollie asks. I know Uri hired them to make the changes, he wouldn’t trust anybody else. Rague built and renovated all his restaurants.

“Love it! Thank you.” I smile at them, noticing how Ollie holds onto Rague’s bicep while lacing their fingers together.

“You should thank Uri. He’s been more insufferable than usual,” Rague mutters.

“He wanted everything perfect for you.” Ollie smirks at me.

Now that I think about it, hadn’t he started the renovation a month ago? The rat infestation happened only two days ago. He was probably planning to invite me to the lake house over summer, since he knows how much I like to splash around in the water.

“How’s Meg?” I ask them.

“Her cheeks look…rosier,” Ollie hazards, and then adds with a heavy tone. “Linda…no change.”

She’s been glued to her wife’s hospital bed since she fell into a coma. Only goes back home to shower and make phone calls to her contacts, busy trying to find Phoenix. She is looking for her revenge, and she won’t stop until she’s punished the culprit—none of us will.

Meg is our mother, not by blood, but in all the other important aspects. With Linda, she gave us a home when we needed it the most, love, acceptance, help, and support. When I was younger, I couldn’t understand how someone not even blood related could be so affectionate toward me, so patient and understanding. I never met my parents. I was abandoned near a hospital and spent my first years in a group home before those horrible scientists took me away.

I hadn’t known what love was before I met my mothers and my brothers. I owe them all that I am. That’s why I let them baby me most of the time. My eyes fall to the black bracelet around my wrist.

“We need to go. See ya later.” Ollie squeezes my hand, as Rague lands a pat on my shoulder.

I move to the door and push it open, entering Meg’s hospital room. It’s a private VIP room—she’s given hefty donations to this hospital, plus Linda is friends with an administrator.

“Sari. How are you, kid?” Linda leaves the chair near the bed to come hug me. Her lemony scent reminds me of happy memories and warm nights. Kid. That’s how Meg calls me. Calls all of her kids.

“I’m okay,” I mumble against her shoulder.

She pulls back, and when her eyes fall on my face, her brows go up in question. “What happened?”

I can never hide anything from her. Being a retired secret agent doesn’t mean she lost her sharpness.

I try to feign serenity, mostly because I don’t want to think about Uri again. “Nothing.”

I left the lake house before he came back this morning. It’s kind of weird that my phone is not exploding with calls and texts from him right now.

“I want to check on Meg,” I tell her, slightly tightening my grip on her forearms.

She studies my face for a moment and then nods, letting me walk near the bed.

The tracheal tube coming out of her mouth seems fine; it makes her chest expand and deflate. Ollie was right. Her cheeks look pink today. I grab the chart and check the doses of the treatment she’s receiving. Everything looks in order. Then I move near the drip line to make sure the liquid is running smoothly through the tubes.

Linda has a brush in her hand and is running it through Meg’s salt-and-pepper hair. The white streaks have spread while she’s lying in this bed. I grab her hand—feels warm, the fingers knotted with that little bump on her middle finger from all the writing.

“Any episodes?” I ask. Meg had some convulsions a couple of weeks ago caused by electrolyte imbalances.

“No.” Linda caresses her head gently. “She’s been sleeping like Snow White.”

“Are we the Seven Dwarves then?” I ask, hoping to see another smile on Linda’s face.

She sniffs. “More like goblins.”

She’s probably right. We are still a handful. I let the white coat slide down my shoulders and place it on the small sofa near the window. The view to the snowy back garden is placid. There are a few patients strolling around, a couple of doctors smoking near the metal ashtrays, and a jogger running with her dog on a leash—the black collar around its neck reminds me of the nipple clamp I saw yesterday on that website.

“Spit it out, Sari.”

When I turn around, Linda is seated in the chair near the bed again. Her fingers crossed on her lap. Back straight. Watchful eyes fixed on me. That’s the pose she used to give us as kids to force out a confession—like who’d cracked the Ming dynasty vase in the entrance or set the Persian rug in the library on fire or recorded a video of our neighbor’s son beating the gardener and sent it to the police. She was quite proud of the last one. The pose has never failed. It’s still kind of intimidating after all these years.

“Do you think I’m weak?” I ask, letting yesterday’s upsetting mood get a hold on me again.

“Of course not. I’ve always thought you are the strongest among your brothers.”

I gasp. I need a moment to process her words. “The fact that I don’t feel the need to kill is seen as something uncanny in this family.”

She hums. “Maybe. But what happened to every one of you made you…peculiar. Each of you found a way to cope. Most of you kill for revenge, need, enjoyment—doesn’t really matter. Have you found your way to cope, yet?”

“Work on my research?” It’s more a question than a statement.

“That’s work. I’m talking about pleasure. About that something that makes you shudder with anticipation and urge you to let go of everything else.” She smiles expectantly.

“I…I th-think it’s pain.” I squeeze my eyes closed after the admission. It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud, and I’m terrified.

Linda doesn’t make me wait long. “I’m pretty sure you don’t mean causing pain. So it’s being in pain.”

I keep my eyes down as I nod, the gesture is filled with hesitation.

“Seeing donors suffering makes my stomach quiver most of the time. But the thought of feeling it…it excites me.” I finally lift my eyes to her. There’s no trace of judgment on her blank face.

“Pain is the best teacher, they say, because through it you find out what kind of person you are. Your limits, your strength, your resistance.” She doesn’t seem surprised.

A sudden doubt overwhelms me. “Did you already know?”

“I know everything about my sons.” She smirks. “Meg had a suspicion. She wasn’t sure, though.”

I grab my braid and pull at it, feeling anxious and naked under her sharp blue eyes.

“Was she disappointed?” I whisper, so very scared about Linda’s reply.

“Never.” Her answer is quick and resolute. “But she was worried.”

“I’ve never…actually done it, but I want to try.”

“So, go out there and experience it. You’ll never know if you don’t.” She makes it sound so easy.

“Are you not disgusted?” I need more reassurance from her. That makes me feel really weak and pathetic.

“Sari, you should know by now that I’m not what society would call a fit mother. But I gave my precious sons the tools they needed to live a full life, with no fear. Keep that head high and go your own way.”

“But after all the hurt I suffered when I was a kid, the torture, how can I crave pain now? There must be something really wrong with me.” I feel tears running down my face as I drop down on the chair on the other side of Meg’s bed. How could she have accepted me? How can Linda, or worse…Uri?

Linda slowly leans toward me, placing her elbows on her thighs. “You lived through a horrifying experience, Sari. Nobody would come out of it unscathed. I can’t use psychological terminology—that’s Meg’s expertise—but the way I see it, this is your way of dealing with all that agonizing shit. A means of adaption, a survival strategy. Because by now you know how justice is so very unjust.”

“A defense mechanism?” I’ve never seen it this way.

“Call it what you want. Rationalizing it won’t make those dark thoughts disappear. You need to explore and see what happens, just like your brothers did with killing. But share the experience with someone you trust completely.”

“Dating has been quite hard.” I sniff and wipe my wet cheeks with the long sleeve of my sweater.

“That’s strange. Whatever Uri aims at, he hits. You know how much he cares for you in his own sociopathic way.”

Why is she talking about Uri now? Is it because she knows about my feelings toward him?

“The tea about you and Uri needs to be spilled.”

Tea? Spilled? She knows! Before I can ask her about it, Uri arrives, followed by Clover.

“Hi there,” Clover greets us. Then he bows at Meg. He said it’s his Japanese way to show his respect for her.

“Hey, Clover, Uri,” I hear Linda say.

I feel Uri’s piercing gaze on me. His brows turned down in a frown. “You cried.”

“It’s nothing,” I dismiss his words, but with two steps, he’s looming over me, hand cupping my chin to study me more closely.

“Nothing? It sure fucking looks like a whole lot of something,” he snaps. “You’re upset and afraid.” I open my mouth to ask him how he knows that, but he adds, “You have a tell.”

“I do?”

“Your nose twitches a little. Plus I heard your conversation with Linda.”

Terror like I haven’t felt in years envelops me. “You-you did?” Oh my God. No! That’s not possible. He can’t know. I frantically try to remember what it was said, but I’m too panic-stricken to make sense of it. He looks furious…with me.

“Yes,” he answers with a snarl. His grip on my face tightens. “It ends today.” His words make my heart sink as all the blood leaves my face.

“Uri—” Linda starts, but I cut her off, not wanting to hear anything more.

“Need to go to the bathroom.”

I bat his hand away and flee out of the room. Tears roll down my face as I rush blindly toward the elevator. This can’t be happening. My worst nightmare has turned into reality. He is already looking at me differently.

Uriel

Dark possessiveness has invaded every particle of my body, and the only thing keeping me from going after Sari is the sight of Meg lying in the hospital bed. Nevertheless, I’m enraged thinking about Sari with someone else. Dating! That’s what he said to Linda. Fucking dating those motherfuckers, who aren’t even worthy to untie his shoes.

I’m an expert at keeping my tone bland, but when I saw those glassy aquamarine eyes and wet cheeks, and the way he pulled nervously on his braid, a growl was ripped out of my throat.

So fucking beautiful when he’s upset. I wanted to pull him so close we’d merge into a single being. But he swatted my hand away. It makes the anger in the pit of my stomach boil and sear.

“Is it just me, or is Uri kind of hot when he’s being all sociopathic?” Clover stage whispers. I met him in the lobby. He was eating a bag of pretzels and kept talking all the way up to Meg’s room. I’m very tempted to end his life, finding another thief like him won’t be that difficult, everyone is expendable. But Sari seems to like him. There’s also the matter of the family code. Damn it!

I move closer to the bed to look at Meg. The sound of the ventilator pumping air inside her lungs makes me uneasy. The fact that I wasn’t able to protect her adds fuel to the fire. The biggest fear for us sociopaths is losing something. Meg and Sari are my something—my brothers and Linda can take care of themselves.

All I want right now is to find who did this and shoot both their legs and arms until there’s more holes than smooth skin, then carefully, but painfully rip their still beating heart out of their chest and crush it under my boot.

Emotions are so confusing. Revenge, on the other hand, is exquisite.

“I heard Ezra came to see you,” Linda interrupts my enjoyably gory thoughts.

“Your doppelgänger?” Clover asks. Fuck, he’s a great thief but such a weird human being.

“His twin.” Linda huffs. She’s tiny, with long blond hair and blue deep eyes, but I’ve never made the mistake of underestimating her.

“He snuck inside the lake house. That was his last time, though. Serena now knows how to differentiate between us.”

“Rami told me. How was meeting him after all this time?”

“Awesome, I bet. A guy with my exact face. So many things we could do! The possibilities are endless,” Clover interjects. I have no fucking idea what he’s on about. But having another little Asian Ninja thief running around would be too fucking much for me. I’d be forced to kill one or both.

I take out my switchblade and start the usual toss and catch, keeping a sharp gaze on Clover. “It was fucking unsettling at first; I wanted to shoot him.” I give them a wicked smirk. “But it seems like he has information regarding Phoenix.”

“So you decided to postpone killing your twin,” Clover says.

“That seems wise,” Linda utters slowly. “Just listen to what he has to say. He’s better alive than dead to us for now. The enemy of our enemy is our friend. And I don’t think Ezra wants us dead.”

I grab the knife and use the tip of the blade to scratch my chin. “It seems not. But that can easily change. I don’t know his intentions, yet. Sure as shit they aren’t pure.”

“Possibly. We don’t know much about him.”

It looks like he was kept by those scientists at least three more years after the rest of us were saved. We don’t know what happened after that. Now Ezra is an assassin, but under no one’s control. So, did he escape and was found by someone like my foster mothers? Meg and Linda are the ones who thaught me to give and take, to control myself, they put up boundaries when it was needed, and changed their approach as I grew up. Meg even showed us the files and dossiers about us that she’d compiled over the years. She wanted us to understand some of the decisions she and Linda had made and the approach they chose with each one of us.

The thing about psychopaths and sociopaths, though, is that there’s no actual approach or technique to keep us from turning into whoever we’ll become. All psychopaths or sociopaths can be dangerous, even if we aren’t all murderers. We are still cannons ready to shoot; Meg and Linda simply turned our aim toward evil fuckers.

They raised five kids out of seven to become murderous vigilantes. I see that as a victory since I fucking like my life. I am a sociopath. They didn’t change that. Couldn’t. I’ll always have a lack of empathy for others, an impulsive nature; I’ll attempt to control others with threats or aggression, or use intelligence, charm, or charisma to manipulate them; I’ll lie for personal gain and show a tendency toward violence. It’s who I am. And fuck, I’m proud of myself.

“We know close to nothing about Ezra’s past except that he left the second facility somehow. Rami’s still digging, but it’s like looking for a ghost. He keeps following us around like a shadow and easily breaks into our houses, not in the least afraid of us.”

“He’s also an assassin,” Clover adds. Lori must have blown the whistle. “Not that that fact would make any difference in this family.”

“It doesn’t.” I find it sort of cool, actually. “Ezra is good at keeping himself in check. He seems very interested in our family. But I can’t make an accurate assessment of him. He doesn’t conceal his nature, but he cautiously and deviously weighs every word he says.”

“From what I’ve seen of him, he’s not going to tell us anything unless he wants to. He’s as stubborn as you are, and as wild.” She smirks my way.

“Manic you mean.” Clover doesn’t know when to shut up.

“Are you trying to get killed today?” I threaten him, pointing my switchblade at him.

He swiftly moves behind Linda’s back. He ducks down since she’s sitting, peering at me over her shoulder. She doesn’t look happy about it.

“Make your kid behave, Linda,” he squawks. I know he can easily defend himself. I’ve seen him dodging blades and punches before. What is he playing at?

“Why would I do that?” She snorts.

Her uncaring response and Clover’s confused expression satisfy me enough. I flip the blade in and pocket the sharp weapon once again. Sari gave it to me a few years back, after hearing me argue with Gabe about how guns can become empty while knives are always sharp. Horseshit, if you ask me. But Sari took it seriously, and the next day he came to me holding this switchblade—with my name engraved on the blade. He made me promise to always carry it with me. Which I do, wherever I go.

Where the hell is he? I turn toward the door with the intention of going to look for him, but Linda’s next words stop me.

“A rat infestation in Sari’s luxury building. I find it very strange.” She’s staring too intently at me, while I can see Clover biting his mouth, finding the view outside the window too interesting.

I raise a challenging brow at her. I don’t know what she expects from me, and I don’t particularly care.

She sighs. “Stop with the behind-the-curtain crap and strap on a pair, Uri.”

“Of what? Sneakers?” Clover asks moronically.

“You shush,” she orders him. “A relationship with no argument is a relationship with too many secrets, or are you scared to show who you really are?” Linda taunts me.noveldrama

“Bullshit. Sari knows very well who I am.” He just needs to remember that if there’s one thing that upsets a highly narcissistic sociopath, it is being ignored or pushed away. I must absolutely have his undivided attention. He is mine, to be used as I wish, when I wish.

“You developed a kind of fixation on him. Overprotective. Obsessed. With stalkerish tendencies—which in your case are not romantic nor flattering. Sociopaths are characterized by volatile behavioral patterns. Nevertheless, Sari has always been your only constant.”

“I was never subtle about it.” I tsk.

“True. You have a glimmer in your eyes when you look at Sari. A sparkle of madness that shows when you think or talk about him. We saw it early on. When as a kid you’d sneak inside his room to sleep with him, or that time we had to repaint your room after Sari covered the walls with algebra formulas, and you didn’t get upset. Not even a little. Instead, you asked to leave them as they were. Meg and I actually have a bet going on.” Linda uses the present tense. Meg is technically still alive, but the more time passes, the less chance of survival she has.

“I’m not surprised about the shared bet.” It’s a big thing in my family.

“My day is coming soon, so close the deal asap.”

“I’m so confused, aren’t you and Sari brothers?” Clover asks. “And can I lay a wager too?”

“That’s your takeaway from everything we just said?” Linda shakes her head at him. “Can you believe this guy?” Then she smiles at Meg. She keeps talking to her, knowing very well she can’t hear us. Why waste breath?

“Sari is very affectionate and kind. He’s got that subtle clumsiness which is cute, an unwavering inner strength fueled by his delicate innocence that draws people to him, especially predators looking to harm him.”

I’m glaring at Clover. “How closely have you been looking at Sari to discern all this?”

“I’m a thief. Reading people and looking for details is part of my job.” He shrugs dismissively at me.

Finally my Baby Blue walks back into the room. He has a couple of plastic bags and is avoiding my eyes.

“I grabbed some burgers from the cafeteria and some ice cream,” he says, placing them on the table near the window.

I walk toward it and take the chair near him. I won’t give him any more space. As we start eating, Linda and Clover keep up a light conversation, while Sari seems very focused on his burger.

The way he eats an overly big bite and tilts his head back using gravity to push the food between his lips makes my dick stand at attention as I imagine giving him something else to feed on. It gets even harder as he pushes his heavy braid behind his back when it falls on his shoulder, and I fantasize about wrapping it around my wrist as I pump relentlessly inside him.

When he starts eating ice cream and sucks on the spoon, moaning all his pleasure, completely oblivious to the effect he has on me, I feel the need to grab him by the neck and make him kneel at my feet. Linda’s smug gaze piercing my head halts my dirty thoughts.

I won’t close any deal with Sari. But he’s already mine, and I take care of what belongs to me. I’ll keep him close. Nobody will touch him.

No-bo-dy.