Syn. (Den of Mercenaries Book 6) by London Miller

Author:London Miller [Miller, London]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: LM Books, LLC
Published: 2018-01-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

No one knew about the apartment Synek kept in the Bronx.

He rarely, if ever, stepped foot inside it since he’d rented it. He only made sure the rent and bills were paid for the year in case he ever came back. The security in hotels was shit, and it wasn’t hard at all to find at least one person willing to accept a bundle of cash in exchange for a room number and access—he’d learned that the hard way once in Canada.

Instead, Synek had found a little rundown spot in desperate need of repair that wouldn’t attract too much attention. Probably why he enjoyed the Hall as much as he did. To the untrained eye, it looked like nothing but crumbling brick and overgrown weeds.

He saw the bones, though. The character.

Mumbling thanks to the driver who’d pick him up outside the loft, he slid from the back seat, jogging down the front steps to his door. Digging out his keys, he winced as his still sensitive knuckles brushed over the denim.

He’d undersold it to Winter earlier. He still felt like shit, and probably would for another few weeks at least. Years of practice kept him standing upright, but he wasn’t at full strength just yet, and if he intended to take care of his Wraith problem, he had to push through it.

Inside the apartment, he tossed his keys on the kitchen counter, slowly making his way through the living room to make sure nothing was out of place—not that there was much to see in that regard. It had been at least thirteen months since he’d last been here, and the place had the stale scent that came from being closed off for a while. Nothing an open window and a can of air freshener couldn’t fix.

There was no furniture in the apartment save a small but stained coffee table and an old beat-up couch that looked like it belonged in a trash bin instead of being someone’s bed, but of all the places in the world where he’d slept, Synek had yet to find anything that topped the ratty old thing he’d found years ago outside a store having a going-out-of-business sale.

Stripping out of his clothes, Synek tossed them on the floor, walking naked into his bathroom. He bypassed the mirror entirely. He already knew he was a mess—he didn’t need his reflection to tell him that.

He cut on the water in the bathtub, pulling the stopper up to cut on the shower. He didn’t bother waiting for the water to heat before he stepped inside, closing his eyes as the freezing water slammed into his back, but it was an agony he enjoyed.

Goose bumps broke out on his skin, making him more aware of each stinging droplet. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his arms, and sighed in relief as the temperature finally rose, turning from freezing cold to scalding hot.

Synek stood there for a long while, letting the heated water soothe his aching muscles until he was relaxed enough to move with minimum pain.

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