Page 40 of Deadfall

“What?”

“And made it very—uncomfortable—for them to go very far,” he continued. “Now, that leaves only one question—what are you going to do with that information?”

I blinked. “You–you want me to go after them?”

“I want you to do what you think is appropriate given what they did to you.” Sacha’s eyes glimmered with shadows. “I saw how you killed the one. I know that must have felt good.”

My lips thinned as I remembered the satisfaction of watching Jas die, and of him no longer being able to touch me. Whatever Sacha saw on my face must have confirmed something for him.

He gripped the back of my neck. “You told me you wanted to hurt the people who hurt you. Did that change? Are you going to let it all go?”

I frowned. I’d said those things when I was thirteen. Thirteen. Nothing more than a teenager. At the time, the idea of holding them accountable had been so abstract—who was I to hurt such powerful men? There was such a vast difference between childhood rage and adult revenge.

But, I couldn’t deny the dark thoughts I had in the deepest of night when the nightmares wreaked havoc on my sanity. In those moments, all I wanted was revenge as I thought about everything that was taken from me—by Vetticus, Octavius and Albatron—and now by those hunters. The anger roiled inside me. It simmered to the forefront in a way that demanded acknowledgement.

No, I didn’t want to let it go. I didn’t want to let any of it go.

I shook my head.

Sacha’s grip tightened and his words grew fervent. “Then take the power back. You are a predator. Act like it.”

I thought about how it would make me feel to see Harry and Pete dead. I thought about the satisfaction I’d get from killing them in a similar way to how I’d killed Jas.

“There she is,” Sacha breathed. “There’s the girl who fought and killed a bear. Now, you just have to find the woman inside you who can do the same to a man.”

Sacha stood up. “Go get changed. Meet me in the armory.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, but disappeared into his bedroom. I shakily got to my feet, choking on residual emotions. Sacha was right—I needed to take back control. But, as broken as I felt, it seemed like a daunting task. A task that would require sacrifice and pain. What was I willing to do to ensure they wouldn’t win? What was I willing to sacrifice in order to become what I needed to become?

The answer hit me as I walked into my bedroom and an eerie calm gave way to clarity.

Everything.

The little girl—that skittish deer—was dead. I had to let her go, because beyond her grave stood the woman I needed to become.

I pulled on a pair of thick black leggings and a long thermal. My body protested the tight clothing, but I knew it would allow me to move the way I needed to move. A harness with pockets and holders for firearms and knives went over the top of that.

I walked into the bathroom and pulled my hair out of the way into a ponytail. Then, I yanked on my gloves and after taking a few steadying breaths, turned toward the mirror. The woman who stared back at me was predatory, cold—wounded in a way that went beyond the visible. I touched the cut on my lip and the bruise that mottled my cheekbone. The stab of pain pulled my lips into a scowl—how fucking dare they put their hands on me.

I realized at that moment, the little girl was no longer the face in the mirror. She’d stopped looking over her shoulder for someone to save her, and was now looking at me. It was time to make her proud. The thought was more comforting than I expected, and I left the bathroom with a renewed sense of responsibility.

Reality crashed back down when I moved too quickly descending the steps of the armory and remembered the extent of my injuries. I was not in top form. Still, I didn’t think Sacha would send me out there if he didn’t think I’d succeed. Although, I was past the point of doing this because he wanted me to. I needed redemption. I’d been paralyzed by fear before, I wasn’t going to let that happen again.

Sacha had an assortment of weapons already laid out, except the first thing I asked wasn’t about weapons.

“Are there any painkillers?” I asked.

Sacha shook his head. “You need to learn how to fight through the pain, and push past your breaking point.”

When I didn’t respond, he glanced up. “And after you heal from this, we might want to talk about putting you through SERE.”

“SERE?”

“Captivity simulation training,” he explained. “Puts you through physical and psychological duress to teach you how to survive it in a real situation.”

“Did you go through it?” I asked as I strapped a few knives to my harness.

He finished checking the gun in his hand and handed it over. “Yes.”