A Righteous Kill Read Online Free PDF Page B

black-eyed carbon copy of his mother. “Little” must have been an ironic statement. The guy was decked in jeans, heavy leather and carried a black motorcycle helmet with the skull and crossbones on the back.
    They exchanged nods. This one belonged to the dark, silky voice.
    “The oldest, Romeo.” He nodded to the muscled equivalent of a storm-cloud.
    “Connor,” the husky voice corrected, his flat affect never once changing.
    Sure. The scary bastard wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea, after all. This guy was no poetry spouting lady-killer. Luca looked at Hero who still slept as peacefully as a child. Yeah, wrong choice of words. Even on the inside.
    Luca had never been so grateful that he was tall and built like a linebacker. He might need it in this crowd.
    “Oh and that’s Andra.” Rown threw a hand toward the slim red-head now standing in the doorway. Thick-rimmed librarian glasses framed her whiskey-colored eyes. Her hair, a little darker red than Hero’s or Rown’s, was drawn back into a tight knot that went with her smart slacks and shirt.
    “Timandra Katrova-Connor.” She walked in briskly, followed by a middle-aged doctor who looked fresh enough to just be coming on shift.
    “As in—”
    “Assistant District Attorney Andra Connor, yes.” She offered him her hand and he took it in a congenial shake. He couldn’t believe he didn’t put that together before. Damn.
    So, Hero hadn’t been spouting nonsense after all. ‘ Brown, Rohm, Dim Tree, Pop, Tmmm, and Mmph’ turned out to be Rown, Romeo, Demetri, her father, Timandra, and Mom.
    Wait a sec. He took that class in college. Some of these names were like, from plays and shit. Shakespeare, right?
    “Now that’s out of the way,” Izolda said, her husky Russian accent taking command of the room. “Tell us what is going on here.”
    Luca cleared his throat, squirming a little beneath her cat-like gaze. She carried a lot of presence by herself, but flanked by her enormous sons and attached to a husband that could have been a ginger gorilla in another life, she was downright venerable. “We believe your daughter, Hero, has been the attempted victim of John the Baptist.”
    The next silent three seconds must have been the eye of the storm. In all of his experience with college sports and Law-Enforcement, he’d never heard so much cursing packed into one space. Even the doctor’s ears turned a little red. The general sentiment seemed to be the expected questions. What happened? Was Hero going to be all right? Did they catch the perpetrator? Et cetera.
    “I’m sorry!” The doctor’s tag read Karakis , which kept in bearing with his Mediterranean looks. “This is not good for the patient. Please follow me out into the consultation area and I can give you more information.”
    “I’m not leaving my daughter.” Eoghan visibly dug into the ground, gently laying his meaty hand on Hero’s forearm. “You can consult with us right here.”
    “I really must insist.” To his credit, the doctor remained undaunted.
    “Look let’s not make an incident out of this.” Luca looked to Rown for back-up. But the guy had rallied around his parents. Traitor.
    “You can keep the hell out of this.” Connor shoved a finger in Luca’s direction. “If you’d been doing your job instead of thumbing your dick for the last six murders, my little sister wouldn’t be lying in that bed.”
    “Hey.” The weak voice from the aforementioned bed startled them all into silence. And likely saved ole Romeo’s life. Hero lifted her head to spear her oldest brother with gentle reprobation. “Be nice.”

Chapter Three
    “Thy drugs are quick.”
    ~William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
     
     
    The ruckus had been pleasant, at first, as Hero swam in the soupy remnants of whatever pain-killers or sedatives the hospital had given her. These voices were so beloved to her. She was alive. Safe. She wasn’t dead or staked to a cross anymore. No reason to think