Apathy seeps in again. Pain and death used tothrillme, usually when I caused it. Now, it’s background noise. The only time I feel awake is when she’s near—my mirror, the one who makes meburninstead of rot. Without her, everything flattens into boredom.
Ashlyn isn’t my salvation. She’s my stimulus. Dopamine fuel for dead synapses. Without her, I flatline into the tepid pool of nothingness.
She’s the spark to my rage. The rope I use to hang my enemies. That woman is the spit to my fire. Gasoline in my veins. There’s nocalmorpeacewith her. Our love isviolent, wicked, and torturous.
And I wouldn’t want it any other way.
My theater of rage has exhausted itself. I know every act of this by heart. I’ve had my fun playing with him, but Talon’s contempt is nothing new. He’ll never admit what he knows. And will only take pleasure in stalling me from reaching her.
“Fine,” I say. My voice is softer now, like the calm before a storm. “Be boring.”
I thrust the spoon into his right eye socket as he shrieks in the way I assume people do when their eye is being gouged out. Body writhing, toes scraping along the floor, fighting the chains, he’s unable to go anywhere that would help him.
It’s not as difficult as I would’ve suspected to pop it out. Butthe strands of nerves and arteries holding it in are a nuisance. Not one that my blade can’t fix. I scalp it until all that’s left is the globe.
Holding it up, I examine it carefully. The hazel color dulled to an appetizing hue.
“What did it feel like to hit her? Powerful? Did you think you’d get away with it and make herbehave?”
His screams have died to wailing moans of agony. He can crack open the one eye, but I make sure to gain his attention. Swiftly, I reach behind me and grip the hilt of my knife, then stab him in the gut.
“You took a front-row seat to her pain. Now watch me become the monster that answers for it.”
With a sly grin, I toss the entire organ into my mouth and bite down. It’s soft. Like an egg. Chewy. Slightly salty. I memorize the texture.
Then spit the remnants in his face. Nah, won’t try one of those again. But now at least I know what it’s like.
“Got it!” Henry yells, out of breath as he rushes in with my laptop.
“Fantastic.”
And with that, I slice Talon from stem to sternum as he lets loose another wet howl of defeat. Not as torturous an ending for him as I’d like, but I’m in a time crunch.
Talon’s lungs rattle with their last breath. Blood pours from his ragged gash. I toss more of the bourbon back down my throat, washing his flavor out of my mouth. Then, I spray his dying corpse with the rest of the bottle.
“Fuckinggross!” Henry screws up his face and steps back.
“Take him outside. Light him on fire. Put it out if the flames get too big. I have to find Ashlyn.”
A few initiates rush into the room to follow my orders.
Shifting toward the corner stool, I prop my computer on a knee, lifting the screen open. Blood coats my fingers, making itimpossible to unlock my system. I swipe them on my jeans, then tap until I find her locator program.
Hmm… Downtown warehouse district? Unfortunately, those warehouses are basically weak Faraday cages—too much steel and concrete. The signal’s bleeding out from the area instead of a single point.
But it’s enough.
In a blitz of movement, I throw on a sweater and grab my coat. Breaking every traffic law, I make it to the district in fifteen. In a stolen Mercedes. Worse? I forgot my gun, but there happens to be a loaded Smith & Wesson in the glove box.
I snag it, check the bullets, then rack the slide.
When I hop out into the chill, a crunch on the gravel has me freezing and slowly spinning, squinting in the ebony night.
Ace’s bright blond hair is easy to spot. So is his swagger.
“Got a call that my daughter was seen near Moretti’s food factories. My men didn’t know which one.”
I sneer. “Of course they didn’t.”