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painstakingly preserved for historical reasons. One of these sections of the wall also served as the location of the dead drop. To signal, all I needed to do was draw a symbol, at a specific location in white chalk, and then wait at the location the symbol signified. In this case I left behind a Pagan symbol for horse. The pub that I now sat in was The Black Horse Inn.
    There was no way of knowing if Vaughn would even show, or if he had the dead drop location watched. I sat at a corner table, deep in the shadows, watching people mill around the bar. One eye was on the door, the other was watching for anyone who might be watching me. So far the place was clean.
    I wouldn’t put it past Sykes to have a hit out on me already, but it was more likely that Royal Blood would find me first. After what I did to Weiss, one of two things would happen. They’d kill me on the spot, or they’d take me back to the room…the one they kept me in…the one where they—
    The outside door opened and I straightened up, curling my fingers around the end of the switchblade that I had in the pocket of my coat. Vaughn stepped into the pub, lingering by the door, his gaze raking the patrons around me.
    He hadn’t changed much in the last six months. We were similar in height and age, though he was blond and fair skinned with a posh private school accent. He looked like a baby-faced child, not the ringleader of a criminal organization. His mummy and daddy had come from old money and he had the trust fund to match, although these days it was inflated from the proceeds of criminal espionage. He had a sweet exterior, but would gladly put a bullet in those that double-crossed him.
    He knew the value of information and it was a lot more than a human life.
    His gaze connected with mine across the pub and a smile appeared on his face. It was an expression that read ‘jackpot’ and I tensed, ready to slit his throat if he even thought about double-crossing me.
    “Xavier Blood,” he drawled, sitting across from me. “ There’s a lot of people looking for you.”
    I grunted. “Vaughn.”
    “I know what you want,” he said before reaching across the table and taking my bottle of Corona . He downed a mouthful of beer, his beady eyes fixed on mine. “You always want something, X, and this time I’m assuming you want the mother load, so I came prepared.”
    I narrowed my eyes. “I want intel —”
    “On Sykes,” he interrupted. “You do know who you’re dealing with right?”
    “Don’t treat me like a fool, Vaughn.” Posh bastard .
    “He’s more than a leader of an MC. It’s a front for something much worse. Same goes for Royal Blood, but you already know this, don’t you?” He eyed me, fishing for information I wasn’t willing to give him.
    The fact that they had me conditioned to kill was evidence enough that Royal Blood was much more than a gang of petty thugs.
    “You know what I want,” I said dryly, not rising to the bait. “What do you want in return?”
    Vaughn smirked and shook his head before reaching into his bag and pulling out a file. So, he wanted me to complete a hit. Of fucking course he did.
    He pushed the file across the table and I flicked open the cover. I saw the photo then scanned the name and designation and began to laugh. He had to be fucking kidding me. I knew this guy, I’d heard about the things he’d done and the words that were associated with him were less than nice. Traitor, double-dealer, murderer, spy . Military fucking Intelligence.
    I shoved the file back at Vaughn and shook my head. “You want me to go after a MI6 operative, a known traitor, and kill him?”
    “What’s the problem, X?” Vaughn drawled, leaning back in his chair. “Scared of a little challenge?”
    “This is fucking big, Vaughn. I don’t know what you’ve got yourself into, but I don’t need British Intelligence on my ass.”
    “I thought you were a ghost.” He sat up straight, eyeing me across the table. “This