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I slashed out with the blade, the edge slicing along the hand that still clung to my ankle. He stumbled back clutching his hand to his chest as blood welled on the long cut. I used his distraction to spring to my feet, readying for his next attack.
“I’m going to gut you,” he seethed, baring his teeth at me before barreling straight for me. I waited for him to approach and dodged out of the way, aiming a slice at his side as he stumbled past where I was just a second before.
His eyes widened in shock, the pain finally registering as crimson bloomed through the side of his white shirt. I watched each movement as he turned to me, his anger evident on his bright red face. But that rage made him sloppy, and in his attempt to take control with his brute force, he left his torso wide open.
I didn’t miss a beat, feigning to strike him in the knee again, but he was ready for that. He reached down aiming to grab my leg and send me toppling over. But instead of striking him, I planted my foot and drove the knife straight into the center of his chest.
He stumbled a step back, but I pushed forward as blood seeped from the gash in his chest, spreading around it as quickly as the thin material could absorb it.
He grasped for the knife, attempting to pull it out, but I pushed it in farther, coaxing a sharp gasp from him. I relished the feeling of his life blood flowing from him down onto my skin, grateful that his death would be by my hand. How many other women had he done this to, for men just as wretched as the Barones? How many hadn’t been as lucky as me?
This was no innocent man, and I could tell by the cold fear gleaming in his eyes that he knew that. He’d be finding out any second now if there truly was a hell.
“I didn’t know you were a demon,” he wheezed, before pulling in a ragged breath and confirming my thoughts. He’d believed I was weak, someone he could easily overpower, a victim for Barones to do with as they pleased, as long as he got paid.
“Oh I’m not a demon,” I drawled, twisting the knife in his chest.
His face contorted as an agonized cry split from his lips. He tried to pull in a breath but his lungs refused to fill, and instead he coughed against the blood bubbling up his throat. It poured from between his lips, coating his chin and spraying over my chest. The blood ran in thick rivulets over my hand and dripped down onto my feet, slapping against the hard marble floor. I yanked the knife out, not wanting to take any chances as his knees gave out.
“I’mthe fucking devil,” I whispered.
He weakly reached for his chest, attempting to press his hand against the gaping wound there. The blood now soaked his white shirt, drawing me to the crimson shade. The last flicker of life faded from his eyes as he stared back at me, his lips parting in one final attempt at a gasp before he stilled, his body frozen forever as death collected his shards of soul that remained.
My head snapped toward the door as the hinges creaked, my legs bunching, already poised to leap away. I knew that none of Tommaso’s other guards would attempt to kill me, but I had to find another way out, I couldn’t stay here—
“Giana,” Kellan breathed and rushed forward, his steps slowing as he scanned me, worry clouding his sable eyes as he searched for any signs of injuries as Merrick and Spade followed behind him.
I let the knife clatter to the ground, satisfied that not an ounce of Mike’s damned soul remained in that body, and stepped closer to the guys—my demons. I scanned them each head to toe, searching for any signs of injuries, my shoulders slumping in relief as it finally registered they were all unharmed. Each of us were coated in someone else’s blood. It stuck to our skin, drenched our clothes.
Kellan closed the remaining few steps and pulled me into his warm embrace. Sagging against him, I soaked in his comforting strength and pulled in a ragged breath, fighting back the onslaught of tears that pricked at my eyes.
I hadn’t let myself feel the icy tendrils of fear that skittered up my spine, at the thoughts I might be taken again, that I might never see the guys again, that I might die. My mind was too focused on trying to survive—the adrenaline masking it all, until this moment when it all slammed into me.
Merrick turned me from Kellan and pulled me in against his hard chest, heedless of the thick spray of blood that coated me as it mixed with splotches covering his own shirt. I let the steady beat of his heart against my skin wash away that prolonged fear trickling in and reassure me that we were all here together as one.
There was a long game to be played here, and I now knew I needed to switch to the mastermind, to the puppet master pulling all the strings because I wouldn’t allow this to happen again. I would never allow Tommaso the opportunity to take me again, to make me feel like the victim. I was the predator and he was the prey this time around. And I wouldn’t stop until my hands were drenched in their blood, the sticky mess clinging to my skin in a constant reminder of who I was, and what I’d done.
I glanced over Merrick’s shoulder as thick boots thudded closer. Spade paused by Mike’s lifeless body, a mix of rage and delight mixing in those wicked violet eyes, and he brought his foot back, swiftly kicking the corpse in the face, once, twice, three times before turning to face me.
“We have to go, sugar,” Spade said sweetly, tugging me from Merrick and into his arms. A wide grin split across his face before I rested my head against his shoulder and relaxed into him. That look promised death and pain to anyone who crossed us, seemingly already knowing the direction of my thoughts. “I love you,” he whispered in my ear, his warm breath caressing the shell of it. My chest warmed as I clutched him closer.
It was our turn to play, and the four of us—oh we would paint this town red with the blood of the Barones’ when we were finished.
“No more lies,” I said, just realizing how raspy my voice was, my throat still parched. I pushed back from Spade to look back at all three of them, the sound of gunfire cracking in the distance. “I know you sent a fake trail to New York without telling me. No more lies, no more keeping things from each other.”
“I guess this would probably be the best time to admit I put a tracker in that leather jacket, right?” Spade asked, completely unrepentant. I wanted to be angry at that invasion of privacy, but I couldn’t—not when it could very well be the reason I got out of here tonight.
“Yes, it would.” I huffed out an incredulous sigh, and he beamed back at me, his chest puffing out with pride and completely oblivious of my tone.
“We’re a team,” Merrick agreed, flashing a look of disbelief toward Spade before focusing back on me. He pushed back a strand of my hair, sticky and coated in blood.
“No more lies,” Kellan echoed, his thumb swiping tenderly over my cheek as he took Merrick’s place, his eyes searching, questioning, seemingly asking the same as me.
“No more secrets.” Because I too wasn’t innocent in all of this, I’d kept things from them countless times, but the only way we’d be able to move forward and take the Barones down was if we all worked together, their knowledge of organizing attacks, coupled with all the dirt I had on them, all the secrets I’d been privy to.
In this world, villains always won … so I guess I’d become one.
