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Therese coughed out a pained curse and stared at the break in what appeared to be shock.
“I’d say that you’ll soon see I’m wrong, but you won’t be around long enough for that.” Not releasing the now-broken wrist, Bailey sank her teeth into Therese’s fingers. The warm, coppery taste of blood slipped over her tongue. A dark satisfaction filled her snake.
Tears welling up, Therese went to strike out with her free hand, but Bailey dealt her a solid punch to the spot behind her ear. A glaze fell over Therese’s eyes as they lost focus. She weaved and then landed hard on her butt. Heaving in breaths, the feline didn’t try to stand, looking all hollowed out.
But she did viciously kick at Bailey’s ankle.
Avoiding the foot, Bailey stomped hard on Therese’s thigh, grabbed a dart from the floor and then rammed said dart into the bitch’s boob.
Flinching with a cry, Therese swung up her arm, but Bailey gripped the limb and punched the side of her elbow to dislocate it. Therese gaped at the injury, seeming stunned.
Looming above her, Bailey took in the sight of her opponent. Therese’s savagely-clawed face was contorted with pain, her swollen and bruised eyes two swirling orbs of hatred. Blood was everywhere—it dripped from scratches, poured from her nose, trickled out of her mouth, seeped from head wounds, and stained several patches of her clothes. More, she’d plastered a hand to her ribs as she hauled in mounds of air, every breath seeming to hurt like hell.
All in all, she was clearly in a crap load of pain. As such … “My work here is done.”
Maybe someone else would have felt sorry for Therese right then. Maybe they would have given her mercy. But this woman had too many things to pay for, in Bailey’s opinion.
An acid attack.
A car crash.
An attempted shooting.
The near-death of her supposed BFF.
Catfishing human women.
Messing with Deke and telling lies about him.
Setting up several pride mates to take the fall for her crimes.
And an intention to sell Bailey to anti-shifter extremists, not giving a single damn that they would beat, torture, and eventually kill Bailey once they were done with her.
So, no, Bailey wasn’t feeling merciful.
Bending, she hummed. “The question is … should I actually kill you now, or should I leave you for dead as you did Dayna so as to stretch out the pain a little longer?”
Letting out a grating growl, Therese reached up and stabbed her claws into Bailey’s side.
Mother of fuck. “Death it is.” Bailey rammed her fist into Therese’s already broken nose. The feline’s head snapped back with the force of the blow and hit the concrete floor hard.
Bailey snatched the broken chair leg and rammed it into Therese’s chest, staking her. The woman arched, choking on a silent scream, her eyes going as wide as the swelling would allow. Her body writhed, her legs kicked, her hands slapped at the makeshift stake. Soon, her movements became slow and weak and pitiful, until the life finally bled from her eyes.
Inhaling deeply, Bailey straightened and stepped back. Taking a few moments to regulate her breathing, she rubbed at her shoulder. It was tender from where it had been earlier dislocated.
Eager to find Deke, knowing he’d be worried, she trudged up the set of stairs and shoved open the basement door. Stepping out, she realized there was a lot of activity going on. She could hear muffled shouting, feet thundering, and the chiming of multiple cell phones.
Padding around the corner, she noticed Helena standing just outside the door of the communal yard, talking to someone out of sight. Catching sight of Bailey, the healer did a double-take.
Bailey gave her a weak salute and mouthed, “Yo.”
Her eyes bulging, Helena turned to whoever else was out there and yelled something. She then dashed inside and hurried over to Bailey. “My God, where were you?”
Before the back door could swing shut, Deke was pushing through it. Relief flickering in his eyes, he made a fast beeline for Bailey. His lips tightened as he took in the injuries that Helena was in the process of healing. “I’ll fucking kill her.”
“You’re too late for that party,” Bailey told him. “The deed has been done.”
The moment Helena stepped back, Deke hauled Bailey close and buried his face in her neck. “Jesus, baby.”
She held tight to him, breathing him in. He said nothing more, but she didn’t need words; felt his fear for her, felt his anger that she’d been taken, felt his relief that she was well and in his arms.
She was distantly aware of Helena making a call to Havana. Though part of Bailey wanted to speak to her honorary sister and assure her that she was fine, Bailey didn’t move. Neither did Deke. They just continued to hold each other.
“What happened?” he asked, his mouth against her neck.
