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His body goes slack, and I regretfully have to pull his head from the water. I can’t kill him yet. Not when I still need something from him. He slumps to the tile in an exhausted heap, weakly coughing up the toilet water that filled his lungs a moment before. Blood pools from his mouth, mixing with the water and covering his white tee with a lovely shade of crimson. Crouching down by his head, I reach a hand out and flick his nose, smiling cruelly as his eyes widen in terror.
“You ready to talk, maggot? Or do you need another dip to convince you?”
His eyes shoot to the porcelain bowl in question, and he shakes his head.
Good. Good. I fist his sopping hair between my fingers and use it as leverage to haul his body upright. A weak moan of pain escapes his lips, but apart from that, he doesn’t protest. Even better.
I’ve seen his records, so I know he doesn’t have the resources to pull off that surveillance alone. “Who are you taking orders from?”
At this point, Drew’s mouth is so swollen that he can’t speak. With eyes full of fear, he reaches a bloodied hand up to the wall, his finger shaking as he draws out the letter S. Or rather, a snake.
The Serpents.
I glare down at the pathetic excuse of a human. “How long have you been feeding girls to the Serpents?”
He shakes his head, holding up four quaking fingers. With a growl, I lunge forward, grabbing his digits and forcing them backward until the bones snap. A garbled cry of pain falls from his open mouth as tears pour down the man’s face, making me even more nauseous.
“How. Long?” I demand, yanking him up by the scruff of his shirt. His feet dangle helplessly in the air as I pull him up to eye level, holding his body weight easily with a single fist. In answer to my question, Drew holds up two shaking fingers with the good hand, clearly fearful he would be losing those as well.
“And Lillith? She was on your list?” My voice comes out deadly soft as I ask the question, knowing the answer but still needing him to admit it. Stupidly, he nods his head once, giving me all the leverage I need.
You dumb motherfucker. I chuckle, bringing my free hand up and hooking my thumb inside the gaping hole in his chin. He thrashes like a hooked guppy as I haul him over to the bath, his useless attempts to escape only furthering my desire to prolong his suffering.
Fucking Christ. The least you could do is die like a man. I roll my eye as he pitches headfirst into the tub. He flails around for a few minutes, trying to gain purchase on the blood-slicked edges and failing miserably. The sight is truly pathetic.
Calmly, I walk from the bathroom and grab the bloodied dagger lying on the bedroom floor. When I return to the tub with it in my hand, Drew makes one last appeal to my nature. With his hands clasped in a kind of silent prayer, he pleads with his eyes for me to spare his life, begging me to find some shred of mercy in my heart.
With ice in my veins, I step forward, shoving the blade deep into his right eye socket. His hands drop down to his chest as the life leaves his body, and I give the blade a good twist before yanking it back out. My heart pounding in my ears, I straighten and stalk into the bedroom, shoving the bloodied dagger back into my pocket. Anger rolls over me as I gaze around at the mess I made. Now that the fog is clearing, I must deal with the repercussions of my recklessness. My fist clenches at my side as my eyes fall on the pile of ash in the corner. I’m not sorry for what I did. Not at fucking all. But it should have been done differently, in a way that didn’t guarantee I would be caught and put away for life.
Sighing, I run my hand across my mask before reaching down to grab Lillith’s photo from the floor. I run my fingertips across her pale, pretty face, imagining what it would be like to run them through her hair. How beautiful she’ll look with my hand wrapped around her delicate little neck, her skin turning blue as the life fades from those big, beautiful eyes.
A phone buzzing in the distance rips me away from my daydream, and I pocket the photo with a growl. Stomping back into the bathroom, I look around the space for the device before I realize it’s coming from Drew’s pocket. With a roll of my eye, I roll his lifeless body onto his stomach and fish the phone out of his back pocket. After wiping one of his blood-crusted digits on his shirt, I use it to unlock his device and quickly pull open the messaging app.
Lilly:
Hey, Drew-boo, it’s getting pretty late. Are you still coming?
A frown makes its way across my face as I read the message. The fucker probably had some big plans for tonight. Big plans that involved Lillith Harper. I wonder how long he waited for the opportunity to get her alone? For the perfect moment to betray all that hard-earned trust? The thought makes me wish I had drawn out his death far longer than I had, but there’s nothing to be done about it now.
I look back down at the message on Drew’s phone. I have to have her. I can’t wait a moment longer. Not when I know others are trying to get to her before me. Without a second thought, I type a message back to her.
Drew:
Sorry, got caught up with a project! I’ll be there in ten.
With a smirk, I pocket the device and storm from the apartment. The mess in there can wait.
I can’t. Not anymore.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LILLITH
I let out a relieved sigh and push my phone back into my pocket. Pulling back the curtains, I resume my watch of the street, my eyes burning from keeping them open so long. I’m afraid that if I blink, the worst will happen, and the masked man will be there, staring up at me. All I have to do is hold it together for a few more minutes. Then Drew will be here to keep me safe, and I won’t have to constantly watch the shadows.
Something small and black streaks across the road, and I jump back from the window, my heart hammering painfully against my rib cage. A crazed little laugh pours from my mouth, and I shake my head. It was just a cat. A harmless, stray cat.
I sigh, continuing to watch the empty street with anxiety hardening my stomach. Just as I go to turn away, a man appears on the sidewalk beneath my window, his features concealed by a large black hood pulled up over his head. I pause, my eyes going wide at the sight of the silver dagger at his side, glinting in the light. The strange man pauses directly under the streetlamp, keeping his back to me while he pulls a slim white cone from his pocket.
