Broken Kings (House of Cards...

Reaper crouched low with a weapon in hand and ready to leap forward. The man he hunted remained unaware, walking through the streets of Madrid as if there wasn’t a nightmare chasing him down. But Reaper’s keen eyes never lost track of the slender man he followed, neither crowds nor instinctive backtracking shook Reaper from his quarry’s tail. And Reaper knew he wasn’t the only one hunting this man down. There were others who were just as well equipped as he was, just as determined but likely less skilled at following so closely and yet undetected. It kept Reaper’s confidence high that he would reach his target before any of the others did.

Sliding from the spare concealment of one doorway, Reaper slipped out of sight, using the ebb and flow of humanity to disguise his movements as his target carefully walked forward. The man ahead of him was young enough to move with evident arrogance in his steps and Reaper smirked until he caught a predatory movement out of the corner of his eye. His attention split, part following the man he hunted and the rest recognizing Carlitos, paralleling his line of attack up the side streets. The Barrio Boys leader was willing to let Reaper have the first assault in this case though, so Malcolm let his attention focus solely on the target again. He’d spotted Carlitos weapon and a smile split both men’s faces, a mixture of twisted enjoyment and adrenaline excitement.

Before the target could slip away entirely, Reaper slunk closer, nearly stepping in time to the man’s shadow and the young man never even knew he was there. “Feliz cumpleaños.”  Reaper growled into the young man’s ear and pulled the trigger to his weapon.

Westley was mid jump when the cold water from Malcolm’s water gun started to soak into him. The young man’s birthday was today and he was officially a teenager. Before he could do more than sputter and try to flee the onslaught of cold water, Carlitos stepped out of his side street and started to pelt the young man with a barrage from his own water pistol. But the most amusing was the battle cry Maya let out as she popped up from her hiding spot and started to lob water balloons into the fray.

The people in the street around them were used to seeing far more violent attacks and took this childish celebration in stride, many laughing and watching as the birthday boy could do little to stop them. Not that their attack was cruel, no. The heat of the sun was broiling overhead, turning the already darkened skin of Maya a near black colour and bleaching even the ebony out of West’s hair, so that he was gaining lighter streaks in the sun. With the whitewash that covered most buildings and the concrete all reflecting the heat of the sun out again, it was like running amongst the coals of a fire and the birthday Wolf laughed and gave up on dodging their assault, reveling in the cooling water.  Since the fun of catching him off guard and drenching him was already completed, the three ‘attackers’ then turned on each other, each as determined as the rest to drench all as thoroughly as possible. Only when the water guns and balloons all ran dry did they stop. And in this kind of weather, it would take next to no time to bake them dry so the four friends wandered the streets to just be relaxed and try not to think about the more gloomy aspects of life for a change.

“My dad is taking me out to a classy restaurant tonight. I don’t know what to do in one of those places.” West groused, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Since coming to live with his father in Spain, West had started to grow and fill out. The constant access to good, nutritional food was showing in the muscles that were beginning to cord under his skin, and even though he was young, puberty was starting to strike; evident in the occasional break of his voice. His father seemed to realize that this little boy he had accidentally sired was turning into a young man and finally was taking an interest in at least getting to know his own son. So although West complained about having no clue how to act in his father’s ‘world’ he was learning. It was now a joke amongst the friends as the first time West had been taken to a fancy restaurant, he’d nearly gotten kicked out because he ate the lobster with his bare hands, tearing the delicacy apart like a savage.

Maya and Reaper had sat him down and given him some basic know-how on proper dining, although neither one actually knew all that much more. But Malcolm knew proper behaviour from his mother and Maya knew how to fake it like no one else could. She was a natural chameleon when it came to blending into a society party. So depsite his generally rough and uncivilized preferences, West had learned how to at least blend in to his father's world. Not that he enjoyed the process but once Reaper had explained the usefulness of making the upper class overlook him, West had agreed to at least try to blend in. Of course this had only allowed the youngster to get involved in some of the seedier dealings that the Barrio Boys participated in, but since the young tough was only drug running and not actually using himself, Malcolm left well enough alone. He had no stones to cast; not when his own past actions involved breaking and entering, kidnapping and extortion.

"So what did you want for your birthday?" Reaper asked the young man who looked up to him like a brother.

"Emma Stone." Westley replied with a cocky grin, naming the actress who currently held his favourite female on tv vote.

"I am not kidnapping a celebrity." Reaper replied immediately, knowing that his young friend was joking but playing along for the fun of it anyways.

"You're no fun." West replied with a grin and Maya rolled her eyes at them all, the corners of her mouth twitching.

"I prefer my women darker than that." Carlitos spoke up, earning himself a few brownie points with the woman who had claimed him.

"Alessandra Ambrosio." Reaper agreed, nodding his head.

"Cerdos." Mayay teased. (Pigs). "You're all cerdos. Keep this up and I will make you all attend Magic Mike with me." she threatened.

"Oh gross!" West immediately replied with a disgusted look on his face while Reaper started to laugh. The look Carliots was giving his woman warned that there wasn't a hope in hell of him 'allowing' her to go see the skin flick.

For a moment Reaper just revelled in the chance to be laughing and at ease with his friends, people who were closer to him than his own family currently was. It was hard now, because he had graduated highschool and he knew that his parents were wanting to take him away from this life. His father was somehow aware of everything Reaper had done in the name of vengeance and that shamed Malcolm greatly, because he hadn't wanted them to ever know. Still, Reaper made a point to be the best brother he could to young Diego at home, and one day hoped to team up his blood brother with his adopted little brother West, just to see if the two got along as well as he hoped they would.

"And there goes the fun." Carlitos' words stopped the laughter, cheer and introspection quickly as Reaper looked up and spotted a mob of rival gangsters trying to make their way towards the quad of Barrio Boys. "Maya, take Westley and go." he commanded, unlooping his arm from over her shoulders and stepping up with Reaper so they were the forefront of their small group. This was the hazard of going around without large numbers; there were enough of the Madrid Mob to seriously hurt Reaper and Carlitos before their own backup could arrive.

"Like hell. I didn't just bring water balloons to this party." Maya immediately replied, winking at the surprised Carlitos as she calmly pulled out a police issue retractable riot club. "You attract trouble, it's why we're together." she grinned and Carlitos swore under his breath but didn't tell her to leave again.

"Are you ready for this?" Malcolm asked Westley, seeing an intelligent flash of fear in the young man's eyes. The boy was all too willing to get bloody but he was smart enough to not want to fight for hte sake of fighting.

"Happy birthday to me." Westley replied instead of directly answering. Four on nine were better odds than two, but it was still going to be a hell of a way to celebrate the Wolf's birthday.