“Is Horse out front?” I wiped my palms on the dress.
“Yes, at the end of the alleyway.”
It was quite a chore getting him up the stairs to the lab. It was more of a workout than usual, so Rebecca and Adeline rushed downstairs to help. When we all made it to the second floor, we rested before we had to process the four naked men slumped against the walls, bound with their arms behind them and their ankles together.
I changed out of my dress and into our uniform—fitted men’s trousers with a shirt. Everything was tucked neatly. The pants were tucked into boots, the shirt was tucked into the trousers, and my hair was in a neat pleat held back by a wool scarf. All black, of course. There was no use wearing any other color if you planned on making a mess.
“Did they give you much trouble?” I asked as I reentered the room.
“No trouble, they actually walked themselves up the stairs,” Rebecca laughed.
“So gullible. We told them they could have us both at once; it worked all three times.” Adeline shook her head.
“What are we doing with them tonight?” Phoebe asked, tapping her foot impatiently as she glanced between us and the unconscious Vipera.
“Tonight is venom; others will come later if any of you get tired.” I grabbed a wooden wedge block and my axe, placing them on the center table. “You are free to leave now, Phoebe, if you are going to get squeamish.”
“I-I’m not!” She crossed her arms. “I’ll be perfectly fine spectating.”
“If you say so.” I picked up my satchel, pouring the contents onto the table. There were a few glass bottles that rolled across the table, as well as a roll of gauze, needles, miscellaneous blades, and then a spare tourniquet.
Along the walls were containers organized by trinket. A stiff hat case of Vipera teeth, as they made great buttons, beads, and clasps when carved. A trunk of spectacles, to be resold or used for scraps. A chest of flasks, keys, belt buckles, yet to be melted down or separated by metal for John.
“Do we start extracting now?” Rebecca inspected the bottles.
“No, we must do one thing first. I’ve tweaked the procedure.” I picked up the wooden wedge block and the axe. “Rebecca, come here,” I instructed.
Rebecca was a butcher’s daughter, and her arms were strong. She had almost the equivalent of a farmer’s strength from the years she spent helping her father, which was useful for our hunting nights.
Tonight, I was trying something new in the name of efficiency.
“Hold his head back, by his hair, at the top preferably, so your hands are not in the way.” I turned my attention to the first man in line.
Rebecca lifted the first man’s head, his mouth drooping lazily as he was unconscious.
“Right there,” I praised, taking the wedge-shaped block and placing it in his mouth, making him open his jaw wider to hold it. He started to wake up, his eyes darting wildly around. “Keep his head still.” I backed up slightly.
I flipped the axe in my hands, the blunt side facing forward.
He let out a squeal, looking up at Rebecca pleadingly.
“Don’t look at her,” I demanded. “Look at me.”
With one swing, the blunt end of my axe smacked the wide end of the block, wedging the man’s mouth open and detaching his jaw with acrack.
He drooled as he screamed, sobbing when we removed the block.
On to the next one.
Crack!
The next one.
Crack!
Then we stood before our detective. His head wobbled in a daze, seemingly unaware of the suffering of his peers. His own snoring woke him, finally.
“Good morning,” I purred, crouching down in front of him, my axe balanced across my knees. “How pleasant of you to join us.”
