The Assassin's Blood: The Confradia Assassins 3

Chapter 9: Revealed

Declan

I meet Priest as soon as I get to the body shop. "Declan…good, you're here." He mutters sarcastically. Unperturbed, I take a seat in a nearby chair and drily ask. "Cut the shit, Priest. You know I'm busy. What is this about?" Priest smirks and walks around his desk to stand in front of me. "Actually, I think it's best if I show you. Follow me, Declan." He gestures to the door, takes his walking stick, and walks ahead of me. Even though he had corrective surgery to regain his eyesight, he's still walking around like he's blind. I guess it's taking some time for him to adjust to his new eyes. They're kind of freaky when you look at them, which isn't to say that women are deterred.

Releasing a resigned sigh, I follow Priest down the corridor until we make it to one of the rooms used to detail cars. Curious, I look inside and see a young man tied to a chair. He looks unharmed. Quirking a brow, I look back at Priest and give him a puzzled frown. "Okay, I'll bite. What is this about?"

Before Priest can respond, Hunter stands beside us and points to the door. "Do you know who that is?" I shake my head. "No, am I supposed to know who he is?" Priest gives me a suspicious look. "You really don't know who that is?" I shake my head again, becoming exasperated. "No. So can you please get to the point?"

Priest crosses his arms in front of his chest, leans his shoulder on the entryway, and nudges his chin at Hunter. "Tell him." Hunter sighs before he responds. "That boy there hacked into our computer systems earlier tonight." I look at the boy again and shrug. "Okay, so do you want me to interrogate him to find out why he did it?" Priest shakes his head. "No, I already know why he did it." At this point, I'm perplexed. I feel like I'm being played with, and I don't like it. Taking a patient breath, I rub my index finger and thumb over the bridge of my nose and tighten my lips.

"Okay, Priest. How about we cut to the chase here and you tell me what you need." Priest shrugs and straightens up from his perch. "The boy's name is Connor…Connor Archer." I jolt in shock, then look at the boy. Blinking my eyes several times, I try to comprehend why the boy's name surprises me. It's not like it's a rare surname. Yet, a small part of me knows there's more to this coincidence. Before I know it, I'm walking into the room. As soon as he sees me, the boy's eyes widen in shock. My eyes roam over his features. His hair is dark, and his eyes are a cobalt blue─ like mine. Hunter stops next to me and mutters. "At first I didn't believe it, but then I got a good look at him, and it's a bit uncanny. I mean, he looks a lot like you, but I still ran his prints─ they're legit. Priest told me to hold him until you arrived."

Striding forward, I lean my knuckles on the table and face the boy. "Who are you?" Giving me a defiant look, he straightens his spine and says. "I'm Connor. Are you…are you Declan?" I remain quiet, not confirming his question. Instead, I narrow my eyes and give him a penetrating stare. "Do you know how much trouble you're in?" He shakes his head. "No... I thought I'd just find you. I didn't think that some scary looking guys would show up at my door and take me away."

Priest stops next to me and gives Connor a penetrating stare. "Tell us how you did it?" Connor sits back in his chair, keeping his eyes on the table, then looks back up. "My sister and I were going through a few boxes, and we stumbled over an old card and a picture." I stiffen when he gestures to his jacket pocket with his chin. "Please, can I free one of my hands? I want to show you what I found." Priest tightens his jaw then nods his head. Hunter moves behind the boy, takes out a sharp blade out of his pocket, and cuts through his bonds.

Rubbing his wrists, the boy rises up and faces me. He's about a few inches shy of my six foot four frame. Without another word, Connor pulls out a few pieces of paper and lays them down on the table. I look at Priest, then reach down and pick up the papers. It's a picture of Alistair and me on a Christmas card. My mouth dries, and my heart speeds up. I can feel the blood rushing to my brain like an ocean wave crashing down on me, but I maintain a cool façade as I face down my brother. Holy Shit, he's my brother! There's no doubt he's Alistair's progeny.

"Where did you get this picture from?" Connor visibly swallows then takes a deep breath before he responds. "The picture belonged to my dad, Alistair Archer. He died a few years ago. I didn't know—dad never told me. I needed to know who you were, so I searched online. At first, it was difficult to find you. I couldn't find any recent information on you or your mother. I figured the DMV would have some info, so I hacked into their system. The system led me to your military records. I know I shouldn't have done it, but I couldn't help myself. I really didn't get to see much before these two showed up at my doorstep. Who are you, people?" He asks.

I turn back to Connor. "Why are you looking for me, Connor? What do you want?" His face becomes solemn at my words. "Believe it or not, I don't want anything from you. I was just curious. It's not every day that I find out that I have a brother. I just wanted to meet you." Priest clears his throat gesturing for us to follow him to the other room.

Taking his cue, I follow him out the door. Hunter follows behind us. Looking at Priest, I gesture to Connor. "So, what do you think?" Priest shrugs his shoulder, swinging his walking stick back and forth between his fingers. "I think the kid is telling the truth. Hunter says the information matches and that the picture is legit. That boy is your brother."

I look towards the large window gazing Connor's desolate face. Nervous, I run my thumb across my mouth. "What am I supposed to do with a teenager? I kill people for a living for shit's sake!" Hunter snorts and gestures to his laptop. "Well, he's definitely useful with computers." His words don't bring me any kind of solace, though. Instead, I move my hand away from my face and begin pacing in place. Hunter stands next to me and settles his hand on my shoulder. "Talk to him." Priest nods his head and shrugs. "What do you have to lose?"

Taking a deep breath, I step back into the room and croak out. "You said your name is Connor. How old are you, Connor?" Connor looks at me for a moment. "I'm eighteen." I nod my head. "Tell me about Alistair?" Connor shifts in his chair and rubs his hand across the back of his neck. "Long story short, Alistair met my mother Alma at a rehab years ago. My sister, San, was four years old at the time. Alma and Alistair were not really interested in kids. They were mostly interested in their next high and partying. A couple of years ago, they were at some dude's house buying drugs and were shot up. The police said that they were killed during a drug deal gone wrong. San and I have been on our own since."

I look at Connor. "Alistair was my father. He left my mother and me when I was ten years old. I never saw him again." Connor nods his head in understanding. "Yeah, he was a real asshole." He says, then looks at me, horrified, and mumbles an apology. "Sorry." I smile at his comment. "So, you live with your sister?" He nods his head. "Yeah, San is actually my stepsister. She has always been there for me. She's kind of like my mom."

I nod my head at his comment and shift in place, but I don't know how to respond. So, I settle for honesty when I ask, "What do you want from me, Connor?" Connor stiffens up and gives me a confused frown. "I told you, I don't want anything, Declan. I just wanted to meet my brother." I nod my head. "No offense Connor, you seem like a good kid, but I don't have time for this right now. I'm pretty busy."

Connor grows quiet then looks down at his hands with disappointment. "Oh, okay." He looks crestfallen, which adds to my guilt. "I'm sorry, Connor. I know this is not what you were looking for, but I don't have time to take care of someone." His lip quirks into a sneer. "Seriously? For your information, I don't need a keeper. I'm old enough to take care of myself. San and I have been on our own for a long time. You know what? Whatever man. San was right. She told me that you'd be like Alistair, but I didn't listen to her. Lesson learned I guess. Can I go home now?" I nod my head and gesture to the door.

Without saying another word, he walks past me and makes his way out of the garage. Hunter and Priest are both standing near the door talking. They both stand to attention when they hear us and approach.

Hunter steps in front of Connor with a hard look. "Hey, kid, it's better if you forget this night happened. Capice?" Connor snorts in disbelief. "Yeah, man, whatever. Can you tell me where we are? I want to go home." Hunter looks at me, then answers. "I'll take you home." Stepping forward, I shake my head and respond. "Don't worry about it, Hunter. I'll take him home."

Hunter opens his mouth to say something but refrains. Connor, however, doesn't hold back. "I don't need you, man. I'd rather walk." I watch as he steps out the garage door looking angry.

Priest laughs boisterously. "I like him. He kind of reminds me of you when we first met." I shake my head and push past them with a glower. "Fuck off, Priest." Which makes him laugh harder. "Looks like you're the one that needs to fuck off, Outlaw." Extending my hand, I give him the finger and smarmily retort. "I'm giving you the one-finger salute, by the way. In case your new freaky eyes don't work." Undeterred, he snorts and turns away. "Good luck." Hunter follows him in with a chuckle. It looks like my friends are having a good time at my expense. Nothing ever changes.

Following behind Connor, I see him looking around, confused. "Hey!" I call out. He turns with a snicker. "What do you want?" Releasing an impatient breath, I walk towards him and grab him by the forearm. "Let's go." He tries to resist, but as tall as he is, he's still no match for my strength. His struggles don't last long, though, when he sees my vehicle. "Holy shit!" He cries out as he circles the car with a look of wonder. "That's a Hennessey Venom GT. That's like a million-dollar car." I shrug my shoulder with a nonplussed expression. "So?" Connor's lips quirk with an incredulous expression as he waves his hand over the car. "So… the car is a freaking work of art!"

I watch amused as he hovers over the car in reverence. The kid looks shell-shocked. While Connor fawns over the car, I take out the key, unlock the car, and slide into the front seat. Once he has inspected the vehicle, he carefully opens the door and slides inside. I observe in bemusement as he runs his hands all over the leather seats and gives me a boyish smile. He has completely forgotten that he's angry at me. "Man, I can't wait to tell my friends about this car." He must see my stern look because he stops talking and slumps back in his seat quietly.

Turning the ignition, I drive the car out of the garage and head to the street. "Where do you live, kid?" Keeping his eyes on the windshield, he gives me his address. My brow quirks with surprise at his response. He must see it because he smirks and mutters. "You might not want to hang around once you drop me off. Someone might try to steal this beauty." His smile fades when I simply shrug. After all, I know that I can easily kill anyone who tries. He doesn't say much during the car ride. However, when he does, he takes me by surprise. "So what do you do anyway? Are you like in the mafia? Or like a drug lord or something?"

My head snaps in his direction. "What would make you think that?" He gestures to the car again. "Come on, man. This is a million-dollar car. Your buddies found me and took me from my apartment at gunpoint. They were about to beat the shit out of me until I told them who I was. Even then, I had to prove it to them. That tells me that you're some kind of badass mother fucker." He looks at me for confirmation. "Hey man, I don't judge. I mean, I live in the hood. I see some nasty shit all the time. San has always s tried to protect me from that shit, but I'm not stupid." He says it so nonchalantly that I can't help but scowl. "I'm none of those things. I work for the government." I say, giving him half the truth. He snorts loudly but relents. "Man, that is some job then. Must be nice."

I don't say anything more after that. What can I say? It's better if I keep things casual anyways. Focusing back on the road, I make my way through the city until I'm driving through a pretty shady part of Brooklyn. Gang members are standing in the corner trying to look hard, and a few prostitutes are trolling the streets for Johns. Everyone stops to stares at the venom with awe as we make our way to Connor's place. Thankfully, we make it to his building without incident. The building stands out in the moonlight with its solemn ragged appearance. It's a large red brick building with graffiti-covered walls and garbage cluttered around the front yard. A few junkies huddle together near an abandoned house looking very grim. Trepidation settles in my stomach at the thought that my brother lives so poorly.

Stopping in front of the street, I turn to Connor with surprise. "You live here?" Connor snorts and unbuckles his seat belt. "Yep, home sweet home." As soon as I ask the question, I feel like an ass. It's obvious that the boy and his sister are struggling to survive, which makes me feel ashamed to be pulling up into his home in my very expensive car.

Connor opens the doors and looks back at me. I can tell that he wants to say something, but he doesn't. Instead, he steps out of the car and gives me a challenging smirk. "I wouldn't park here if I was you. Your beautiful car would be gone within seconds. Thanks for the ride, though." He utters sarcastically as he slams the door closed and makes his way to the apartment building. Shutting down the ignition, I step out of the car and follow behind him, but before I can say anything more, a sweet female voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Connor, is that you? What are you doing out so late?" A woman rushes towards him with her bag in her hand, and an alarmed look on her face. Connor turns to her with a contrite grimace. "Sorry, San. I know it's late, and I shouldn't have been outside." Shaking her head, the woman moves forward, wraps her arms around his shoulder and pulls him tightly into her embrace. It's her. The woman who has haunted my dreams. She's as beautiful as I remember. Her caramel-colored hair is longer, and she still looks very young, but it's definitely her. Stepping out of Connor's embrace, she looks back at me and frowns. Her lashes are long, and her skin is an olive color. The look of shock on her face would be comical if it weren't for the fact that I'm just as taken back. "What are you doing here?" She asks with a scowl.

I look at Connor, who moves forward, grasps his sister by her shoulders, and leads her to the building. "It's okay, San. I'll tell you. Let's go inside first." San narrows her eyes and gives me a measuring look. "Come on, San." Connor nudges her shoulder and ushers her inside. Santana begrudgingly moves but never takes her eyes off me. She looks like she'll kill me if I make a wrong move, which is a change in how she acted when I first met her. As for me, all I can do is gape at her beauty. I can't take my eyes off her. She's even wearing the same ugly dress uniform from the diner. However, it still doesn't obscure the perfect body underneath. Walking behind them, I mentally shake my head, trying to snap out of my infatuation.

As soon as we walk into the apartment, she crosses her arms in front of her chest and turns to both of us. "What is this about, Connor?" She asks her brother. "Why is he here?" Connor gives me a chagrined stare then turns back to his sister. "Remember that picture we found of Alistair's son?" She nods her head. "Yeah. What about it?" Connor pulls his sister under his arm and waves his hand in my direction. "Well…this is him. This is Declan, my brother." She looks at me then at Connor. Her eyes shift back and forth several times, then widen in shock. "Are you kidding me?" She asks, smacking her brother in the chest.

Connor shakes his head. "No San, this is Declan. I kind of…" He stops talking, takes a deep breath, and rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I kind of went online and hacked into a few systems. That's how I found him." Santana gives him a horrified look then pushes his chest. "What the hell, Connor! I told you not to do that." She smacks his chest again. "What were you thinking? Do you know how much trouble you can get in? You could go to jail!"

Connor holds his hands up defensively. "Stop San. It all worked out… Stop!" She stops hitting him but steps back, pointing her index finger at him and gives him a killing glare. "Oh, we are so not done with this." I have to chuckle at the chastised expression on Connor's face. Which was a mistake because the beautiful woman turns to me and gives me the same killing glare. "So, you're Connor's brother?" For the first time in my life, I'm speechless. All I can do is stand there and stare at her beautiful face and luscious lips. My body hardens at her perusal.

Santana looks from Connor to me as if cataloging the similarities, then turns around and walks into the kitchen. Raising an inquiring brow, I look around the apartment and frown. The place is a run-down on the inside as it is on the outside. There's a small kitchen circa nineteen-sixties with a yellow laminate counter and brown appliances. The walls are gray and peeling with large cracks, and the living room is just as poor looking. It has a small box television and a scarred wooden table with an ugly brown couch. Hanging on the wall is an old, faded painting of a daisy in a yellow clay pot. There's a door off to the side that leads to a bedroom with a small twin bed and a yellow comforter. The room is about the size of a closet. I guess there's a bathroom somewhere, but I don't see it. Connor and Santana sit on the shabby couch and gestures for me to take a seat. I sit on the chair, feeling discomfort at their penetrating stares as I rest my elbows on my knees, and clear my throat. "I see that you're a good kid, Connor. But like I told you before, I don't have time for this. I'm pretty busy. However, I can see that both of you are struggling. Maybe I can give you some money and help you out." I didn't expect their response. However, in hindsight, I can see that it was definitely a miscalculation on my part.