Page 163 of The Cannibal

Nothing at all.

Amelia locked the bolt on the exit in case anyone regained their movement.

The Russian representative sighed, standing from his seat. “I’ll move him,” he said, as he walked back to Luka, dragging him away from the edge and up into a patio seat.

Elijah stood from the table and joined Amelia off to the side.

Silas stepped on the plates, tipping wineglasses as he jaunted. The cigarette hung loose on his lips as he pointed the rifle down at one of the representatives slumped onto the table. You could see eyes moving in panic.

Bang!

He didn’t have to step much farther to do the next one.

Bang!

The shots were harsh, especially when the sound slapped against the neighboring buildings and back at our own ears.

One by one, Silas took care to blow each head like a carnival game.

Levi’s nostrils flared in anger. “You freak,” he hissed, “do you know what you’re doing?”

Amelia collected their cards from the bodies, tucking each one in her apron as shots continued to go off.

I touched his cheek gently, but he reached up, tensely, to grab my hair. His movements were stiff, his position frozen in place. Even as he reached up to grab me, his elbow didn’t change its angle. Even as he spoke, his jaw stiffened his words.

“You can’t kill me,” he hissed. “My bones are so thick not even a shot to the head will kill me.”

“I know,” I said softly, pulling a syringe from my sleeve.

“The paralysis won’t last.”

“I know,” I repeated sweetly, gripping the cylinder of the syringe with both hands. “I have another plan for you.” I finished, stabbing the needle into his chest, injecting my own concentrated venom into his chest.

He tried pulling my hair again, and I sank my fangs into his arm.

Within moments, his grip could no longer hold. All he could do was hiss and spit in anger.

Amelia, Elijah, and Ilya began dragging the chairs with their respective bodies toward the edge of the building. Together, they hoisted them over.

I couldn’t be more proud of the coordination, even if some of the players were late in joining the plan.

“You’ll join them, since it’s only fair for such esteemed partners to get fair treatment.” I smiled, slipping from his lap and placing a hand on each arm of the chair.

The legs of the seat scraped across the tiles. All he could do was watch.

Finally, the back of the chair hit the banister.

There was shouting down below.

John hobbled on a crutch, directing the construction workers spinning the concrete mixer and pouring into place. The entire flat area had the initial pour down with more on the way.

Sidney walked across the packed gravel, dragging the fallen bodies to neat spots for an even pour. Mary staked each body for good measure at the abdomen and neck.

“I knew killing you was far too ambitious of a solution,” I explained, leaning down to eye level. “This will surely be more painful.”

He tried to bare his fangs, but his face was barely able to move.

“The concrete will harden around you and leech every bit of water from your body and bones, and we will pour extra thick, since we don’t have much use for a particularly tall cellar,” I said.