A Leap in the Dark (Assassins of Youth MC Book 2) by Layla Wolfe Page A

fit in with the motorcycle club. “You failed to crush it. Did you just miss the target a lot? That’s understandable when you’re new to it.”
    “I managed to hit it a few times. It was just too overwhelming for me, Levon. The loud reports scared the bejesus out of me, and that’s something I’ll never get used to. You know we used to hear gunshots around the compound. The next day some guy would always go missing. These were older guys. Guys who Chiles felt were in competition with him in some way, a threat to his power. So yeah, the short answer is no. I won’t be prospecting for the Assassins. I’m doomed to be a hang-around forever.”
    It was time to come clean. I felt close to Deloy, so I said, “Yeah, Gideon found several bodies out at his open mine pit. Some have been identified and the first wives have come forward to claim them. We still have two decrepit rotting guys with no ID.”
    Deloy’s face went utterly still, like a statue. “Oh, God. Could be anyone, really. So many have vanished.”
    “One is a teenager, we think, who has been in the ground for about five years.” Deloy left Cornucopia five years ago. I knew he might give us a clue as to the kid’s identity, but I would never make him look at something that frightening. It was bad enough Gideon, Dust Bunny and I had to. The guy was decomposed beyond IDing, anyway. We’d have to DNA him.
    “Oh, God. I didn’t know they sent kids to spirit prison. Just older guys.” Spirit prison was an in-between place between heaven and hell where dead people went who had been ignorant of the gospel.
    “Well, I’m glad you’re not joining. It’s not for you, but I know you want a sense of belonging to something bigger than yourself.”
    “I do,” Deloy said despondently. “But going to dental school will just have to do. And hanging around The High Dive with the guys.” He loved petting Lazarus. The enormous fluffy dog sat right smack in front of Deloy, ready for pets. That dog was spoiled, and I didn’t care.
    “That’s good. You’re on the right side of this community, anyway. Remember how great it is to not be with the fundies. To have freedom of choice and will. Excuse me?”
    Some guy with a clipboard had appeared in the doorway. He must’ve been chewing on breath mints because a minty cloud seemed to emanate from his head. “Yeah, I’m looking for Levon Rockwell.”
    I stood. “That’s me.”
    He shook my hand. “I’m Hyrum Shumway, building inspector for the Town of Avalanche.”
    Dread and doom started eating at my stomach. No one ever wanted the building inspector, but it was inevitable that he would come, like death and taxes.
    Shumway cut right to the chase. “Listen, I haven’t even begun to go down my checklist for this building. When it was an antique store there were a lot of structural issues I’m not sure were ever addressed.”
    “Well, you’re free to look around. I had an independent contractor, a structural engineer, come in and assess the place. He found nothing big other than some dry rot which I addressed by ripping it out and replacing it.”
    “I saw that,” said Shumway. “The big issue is, we’ve already issued too many business licenses for this year. A lot of your buddies took up most of them with their butcher shop, coffee shop, barber. Not to mention, you’ll need an additional special license because you’re an occult art practitioner.”
    My mind was blank. “What?” was all I could think of to say.
    “Occult art?” echoed Deloy.
    “Yeah. Whatever this Krav Maga business is, it’s going to need to go before the Town Council before being approved. And in the history of Avalanche we’ve never once approved a license for an occult art. It’s just not the sort of thing we want to promote in the wholesome atmosphere of Avalanche.”
    I found my tongue. “So you’re saying that even if my studio passes inspection, I might not get a business license because I’m an occult art