Misted (Team Zero #5) - Rina Kent Page 0,1

making her appear like an angel.

My fucking angel.

The pain and the blood and the burn and every single atrocity disappear at her sight. As always.

She’s my salvation in damnation.

My one-way ticket out of this madness.

I found her.

I run to her despite my half-beaten leg and my dazed head.

Her hazel eyes are like a lioness’ with sparks of forest green and earthy brown. Tiny freckles splash on either side of her small nose like stardust.

My beautiful hellion.

When I’m within reach, I fling the rifle to my back and grab her cheeks with both my hands. My blood mars her translucent skin and right in this moment, I promise myself that from today onwards, there’ll be no more blood in our lives.

We’ve been here for more than eight years. She’s maybe eighteen and I’m a few years older. We never knew normal, but today we’ll take our first leap into it.

“We’re leaving.” My cracked lips press against her soft ones in a quick kiss. “I don’t fucking care if we have to shoot our way out of this hell.”

She says nothing. Even her expressive eyes aren’t talking to me or acknowledging me. Lost. Out of this place. Far.

“Hellion,” I grab the back of her head tighter. “No one will hurt you as long as I’m here.”

She places a small, delicate hand on my chest and pushes hard. It might be because I’m injured or she finally took my advice for the arm-strengthening exercises, but she manages to make me step back.

“It’s over.”

My eye twitches. “What?”

“I got rid of it.” Her voice drifts in a cold, levelled tone. “It’s done.”


A blow hits the back of my head and I fall, my knees crushing against the tile. I try to get up, but we’re surrounded by guards.

I need to protect her. I need to —

“Goodbye, Hawk.” Mist looks down at me with a hollow expression as another blow smashes my nape then another and another.

I’m too stunned to react. Too caught up in her cold, unfeeling hazel eyes that I once considered my home.

She stands like a non-breathing, non-feeling statue, watching as they beat me and then Hades’ words from earlier return like a horned monster.

Mist told us your location. She’s the reason you’re shot.

I didn’t believe him because he’s nothing and she’s everything.

But now as the darkness shrouds my vision, she turns and fucking leaves.

I got rid of it.

It’s the last thought I have before a roar claws from my lips and black sucks me into its clutches.



You were a soft breeze that transformed into a deadly hurricane.

Fifteen years later,

Someone is watching me.

The air thickens with unwanted interest. I don’t need to scan my surroundings to feel their eyes on me.

You know what will happen if you disobey.

This morning’s text still sends zaps of discomfort down my spine.

They’re here and there’s nothing I can do about it with the girls around.

My steps remain composed. The clack of my Louboutin’s heels echo in the stairs as I waltz down towards Le Salon’s main club area. The sound of my shoes dims as soft music thumps from the speakers.

Le Salon’s lounge area resembles a hotel’s reception hall. Elegant, rich men sit on the sofas with the girls, drinking and laughing. Despite the dim lighting, I scan each of them. One man has his hand up Shelly’s thigh under her dress and she giggles, pressing into him. I leave her be.

They’re only escorts and sex isn’t expected of them, but some girls do it the entire time. If they’re consenting, then it’s not my place to tell them otherwise.

Le Salon’s entertainment parlour is our façade to the underground business. We need these high corrupt politicians to keep it afloat, but there’s no way in hell a girl under my wing would be forced to do anything.

I might have become the reluctant madam of this place, but after several months of supervising, I can’t help feeling responsible for these girls. Just hearing about how the previous owner abused them causes my blood to boil.

“Mist!” A frightened voice calls from behind me.

I whirl around as Sarah comes to a screeching halt. Her dishevelled brown hair points in all directions like she’s had an electricity static. Her dark eyes are widened in horror and lipstick smudges all over her cheek and chin. Both her hands are crossed over her chest, hiding the gash of torn clothes.

“Who did that?” My voice is calm, to not alarm her, but the need to kill and maim boils through my veins like acid.