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“Why doesn’t she just kill them quick, Uncle Dresden? Like she has before.” Sorina trembles, her eyes glued on Lily over my shoulder.
“She can’t, Sori. This is how she works. They have information she needs, and this is how your Momma was trained to get that information. This is how she gets revenge, for Samuel and Jameson.”
“What information does she need?” Shannon’s voice is laced with fear. I don’t think she or Sorina ever really thought about what Lily is capable of. What we did to Khoui last year was controlled, Lily still in her right state of mind.
“Who sent them. She wants the leader of the Taurus or the name of someone high enough up to make a difference.”
“Will they give that information up?”
“By the time she’s done . . . yes. Now please, go inside and don’t watch this.”
After the curtain is closed, I jog back to Blake and Hastin, both of them looking like they want to puke.
“You’re going to tell me what I want to know or so help me, I’ll make you scream like a bitch for hours before I kill you,” Lily hisses, her voice cold, emotionless, and scary as fuck.
The Taurus hitman still says nothing. Lily strolls to the second Nigerian captive. “Last chance.”
She only waits a second before running her blade across his throat. Before the blood is done squirting from the wound, she sticks her fingers inside, clenches her fist around something and pulls forward hard. The man’s tongue hangs down through the gaping slit and Lily’s hand drips with blackish liquid, webbing sticks between her fingers as she holds it in the moonlight, opening her hand wide.
Colombian Necktie.
Vlad never should’ve taught her how to do that. She presses her hunting knife into his hand and kneels, unzipping the duffle bag closest to her. Vlad wipes the knife off, removing most of the blood and taps her on the shoulder with it. She stills, her head turning fractionally before she takes it back from him.
“Now what?” Blake is visibly shaking.
“Now, you should go inside because this is going to get ugly.”
“That isn’t ugly,” he snaps, his voice echoing through the space.
Lily whips around, her gaze falling on Blake. Their eyes lock on each other, and the charge between them is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. An electric current tying him to her, and her to him. Without blinking, she walks toward us, sliding something into her pocket. Stopping in front is him— her eyes glow, a silver hint from the moonlight, igniting the deep blue of her eyes.
Every nerve in my body trembles, my fists clench, ready to tackle her if she moves for him. This whole mission is to protect Blake from all threats. That includes Lily. The depth of depravity in her will take days to bring her out of, and her guilt for losing control will last for much longer than that. Good thing Hastin is here.
“Not another word,” she says in a low voice.
Blake’s smarter than I give him credit for because he nods, small and slight. She stares blankly at him, searching his face, confusion flittering into her features for a second before they return to stone. She turns on her heel and goes back to the Taurus hitman.
“Now, you’re going to give up a name, or you’re going to scream until your last breath. The choice is yours.”
A smile on her beautiful lips, she lays her blade flat against his bicep, pressing firmly and drags it to the bend in his arm. Several layers of skin peel off, and he screams. It echoes through the night. Before the sound stops, she moves the knife over an inch and does it again.
Fifteen minutes later, the hitman is still screaming and has no skin left from his shoulders to his elbows on both arms. Blake’s hand is clamped over his mouth, and Sammi’s turned her back on everyone, looking off into the trees.
“You’ll never find him,” the man sobs, banging the back of his head against the post he’s tied to.
“Oh, yes I will. You see, it’s what I do.” She pulls an X-ACTO knife from her pocket, sliding the tip from the top of his chest, down the center, to the beginning of his belly button.
My stomach heaves as blood drops down his stomach. She and I are going to need to talk about this. Really talk.
Vlad reaches into his pocket, pulling out some cylinder-shaped tube. Pushing a button on the side, Lily stares at it, her smile demonic, nothing of the beautifully broken woman I know and love. The tip glows red as he hands it to her, and the air passes through my lungs in heaves. What the fuck is Vlad thinking, helping her with this? Giving her more sadistic shit to do to this guy.
He screams bloody murder as she lays the piece to his skin. The burning of flesh clings to the air. Fucking Christ, he gave her a soldering iron. She holds it like a pen, moving it across his chest.
Shit . . . she’s writing something.
“I’ll talk, I’ll talk!”
She doesn’t stop until she’s finished writing. “Who is running the Taurus operation? I want the bastard in charge or someone high enough in the fucking food chain that I can get to him.”
