Kat Redding 03 - Blessed by a Demon's Mark

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Kat Redding 03 - Blessed by a Demon's Mark Page 17

by E. S. Moore


  A flare of light flashed as soon as the door was open, blinding me. I fired reflexively just as something heavy hit me in the chest. I flew backward and slammed up against the wall, just barely keeping hold of my weapons.

  Sharp fangs bit into my shoulder and I cried out. I brought the hilt of my sword down hard on the top of my attacker’s head, which was a mistake. The fangs sank deeper from the impact, causing me to cry out.

  The fangs withdrew and I caught a glimpse of a mad face before his gaping mouth darted toward my face. I jerked back just in time, smacking my head hard against the wall as his fangs snapped shut just before my nose.

  I knew I didn’t have much time. This guy was quick, but he was quite clearly crazy. Before he could pull back to launch another attack, I head-butted him. His nose crunched and he screamed. It sounded strangely feminine coming from him, but I didn’t have time to worry about that. He staggered back a step, and I used the space to bring my sword around.

  It wasn’t a clean hit, but it did the job. The blade bit into his side and he slammed hard against the wall. He stood there a moment, shaking as the silver went to work, before finally collapsing.

  I took a deep breath and nearly gagged from the stench of blood and sulfur. My attacker was completely naked, his body slick with blood and something else I didn’t even want to consider. His back was covered with lashes I assumed were self-inflicted. His eyes were blood-red, sliced from corner of the eye to the ear.

  I grimaced as his tongue lolled from his mouth. It was forked and covered with my blood.

  “Strinowski?” I said, rolling him onto his back with my foot. He grunted, but that was all he could manage with the silver running through his veins.

  I stepped back when I saw him face-on. He had nothing but scar tissue between his legs where he’d removed his sexual organs. He didn’t have nipples either, or a belly button. I don’t even want to know how he managed the last.

  His mouth was modified much like his eyes, cut at the sides, giving him an unnaturally long grimace. His tongue was longer than it should have been, and I wondered if he’d managed to pull it up from his throat somehow.

  My eyes passed over him and I wanted to be sick. Just above where his belly button should have been was a long, horizontal slash. The skin flapped at the top, and I so didn’t want to see what was inside.

  Strinowski stared at me with his blood-filled eyes. I think he was trying to smile, though the cuts on his face made that impossible.

  I couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. The guy was quite clearly insane, and I was doing both him and everyone he’d ever hurt or planned on hurting a service by killing him.

  I had to hack downward to take his head. The floorboards were old, and my silver blade bit into the wood and nearly got stuck. When I jerked it free, blood splattered across my pants and boots. Strinowski’s head rolled a few feet before coming to a stop facing the wall.

  The whimpering from the other side of the door turned to moans. I walked over to it, just wanting this over with. I pushed the door open, readying myself for another attack, but after one look, I knew the woman was in no condition to hurt me.

  Chains from the ceiling and floor kept her suspended in place, hanging in the air with her legs and arms spread as wide as they could go. She was naked and bleeding from seemingly everywhere. As I neared, I knew why.

  A bundle of what I took at first to be rags turned out to be her skin. It looked molted and forlorn lying there like a discarded piece of clothing.

  The woman looked at me with wild eyes. I had no idea how she was still alive, the damage was so extensive. Her entire face was gone, including her eyelids. All that was left was muscle and bone and gristle. Her teeth stood out without lips to cover them, eyes bulging from skinless sockets.

  “Jesus,” I said, covering my nose. During her torture, her bowels had repeatedly released. Strinowski hadn’t bothered to clean it up. He’d left the stinking pile where it fell.

  “Kill me,” the girl croaked. I had no idea how old she was, doubted anyone could tell. No one could recognize this as anything remotely human anymore. “Please.” She started whimpering.

  I blinked a few times, tried to sort everything out in my head. There were sharp knives lying on a table next to the woman. There was also a bottle of pills that contained what I assumed was something that would keep the victim alive and aware during the torture. Beside that was a small flashlight. I guess Strinowski kept it there so his victims could see the damage he was doing to them.

  The windows behind the woman were covered with skin, these ones hairy, as if they’d come from an animal. A small space heater hummed under the table. It was so quiet I could barely hear it over her whimpering.

  I didn’t know what to do. Normally, when I found the victims of vamps, I let them go so they could return to their families. Sometimes the victims didn’t survive. Sometimes they were dead even before I arrived.

  But this? I’d never seen anything like this before. Even with all the blood, my disgust completely overrode any hunger I might have had. It was just too much of a shock for that part of me to function.

  “Kill me!” the woman screamed. She started vibrating on her chains, bloody saliva dripping from her mouth. It was more than just shaking too. She was having a seizure. Her eyes rolled up, though I could still see the iris because there really was nowhere for them to go.

  I raised my gun and put her out of her misery. The bullet hit her with a muffled thump and she immediately slumped in her chains. Blood and urine dripped from her as she died.

  I turned and staggered out of the room. I had to lean against the wall to catch my breath. I was feeling sick and dizzy, almost unable to think. What had gone on in this house? Why hadn’t anyone killed this guy before?

  Why hadn’t I?

  I shuddered and made for the stairs. I wasn’t completely sure I’d gotten Strinowski, but I hoped to hell I did. The guy who attacked me could have been one of his victims for all I knew, driven mad by the tortures inflicted upon him.

  The smell of death got worse as I stepped into the kitchen and found the cellar door. There was nothing in the kitchen aside from the empty cabinets and sink. I stood in front of the door, wondering if I should go down or not. Now that I knew to listen for it, I could hear the hum of a couple of heaters coming from downstairs.

  Finally, I decided I couldn’t leave until I knew if anyone was alive down there. I opened the door and immediately the sound of chains clinking reached my ears. I reached for a light switch, but when I flicked it up and down, nothing happened.

  Someone started crying and I knew I’d have to investigate in the dark. I could see, but I would have preferred to view the horrors I knew waited for me with a light on.

  I went down, gun pointed forward. I wasn’t sure what to expect or how many people I’d find, but I had to do it. I prayed it would only be two or three more at the most. Any more than that and it might drive me crazy.

  The first man came into view and I froze halfway down the stairs. He was a fully shifted werewolf, though his fur was gone. His skin had a strange, wrinkled look to it, and it took me only a moment to realize that because he was a were, his skin had grown back after being removed.

  He snarled at me and thrashed in his chains. I’d seen crazed wolves before, seen them affected by the full moon, seen them hopped up on drugs, yet this was so much worse. Saliva dropped from his muzzle, tinged red. He gnashed his teeth, eyes bugging out of his head.

  I shot him without having to think about it. The wolf was completely out of his mind. I didn’t even have to think twice to know he’d never be saved.

  Someone screamed and I hurried down the last few stairs to get a better look at the room.

  Another five people hung from chains all around the cellar. Two were wolves who were just as insane as the first. I dispatched them quickly, knowing it would be pointless to set them free, though I knew Jonathan would have wanted me to.

  The next victim was
a vampire. She’d been skinned so recently, she was still dripping blood. She stared at me with pain-filled eyes as I raised my gun. I think she smiled just as I pulled the trigger.

  The last two appeared to be Purebloods. They were swaying in the back, trying to reach for each other. The man appeared to be in his late twenties, the woman a few years younger. They were crying and looking at me as if they weren’t sure if I was there to kill them or save them. It appeared Strinowski had yet to get around to skinning them.

  “How many?” I asked, my voice coming out strangled. “Was it just Strinowski?”

  The girl burst into tears and didn’t answer. The guy was just barely able to hang on.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I only saw the one.”

  I moved through the cellar and checked the corners, keeping my eye on the stairs just in case I didn’t get everyone. There was nothing down there but the heaters and the chains, which were bolted to the ceiling and floor. There were heavy-looking locks near their ankles and wrists, but I couldn’t find a key.

  I could have shot the locks off, but chances were good I’d hurt the two Purebloods in the process. The chains had to be strong enough to contain weres and vamps, so it was unlikely I’d be able to break them by brute force.

  “Damn it,” I said, turning toward the stairs. As much as I didn’t want to see the freak show I’d killed in the hallway again, I knew I’d have to go back and look for the key.

  The couple started crying out to me as I turned by back and headed upstairs. They screamed and pleaded for me to come back and save them. I did my best to ignore their pleas. There wasn’t anything I could do for them until I found the key.

  Still, it was hard. I wondered if the girl hanging in the room upstairs had been a friend of theirs, or worse, a sister or mother.

  I started in the girl’s room, doing my best not to look directly at her. I checked the table, finding it sticky with blood, but a key was nowhere to be found. I grabbed the flashlight as I hurried out.

  Next, I moved to the room the vamp had come out of. It was as empty as every other room in the house. Not even a hanger hung in the closet.

  I went back out into the hall and stared down at the vamp I prayed was Strinowski. He was naked, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have places where he could hide the key.

  My eyes immediately fell on that pouch of skin on his belly and I groaned. Where else would it be?

  I knelt and gingerly lifted the flap of skin, exposing the muscles and organs. At first, all I could see was a mass of blood and guts, and was just about to let the skin fall when I saw the glint of metal.

  I retched as I pulled it from his innards. There were at least a dozen keys on the ring, and they kept catching on parts of his body. They were slick with coagulated blood and gore by the time I pulled them free.

  I grabbed the vamp’s head and took it with me as I headed back down into the cellar. I needed to know for sure I had Strinowski and not one of his other victims.

  I turned on the flashlight as I approached the scared Purebloods. I held the head up for the couple to see.

  “Is this him?”

  They both burst into tears, nodding and thanking me over and over. I tossed the head aside and used the bloody keys to unlock their chains. I left them there to huddle together on the floor, leaving the flashlight with them.

  I all but ran to Jeremy’s car, so sick I nearly threw up twice before I was safely behind the wheel. It wasn’t so much the blood. I’d seen more than enough blood in my time. It was the sheer brutality of the killings that had my stomach doing flips.

  It took me a couple tries to get the car started and when I did, I tore out of there like Strinowski himself was after me.

  I regretted leaving the couple behind, knowing it would be hard for them to find a way home. They were naked and I hadn’t seen a scrap of clothing lying around anywhere.

  But at least I’d given them a chance, something they might not have had if I’d taken them with me. With as screwed up as I was, I didn’t trust myself not to attack them on the way home. It was better this way.

  It had to be.

  The car coughed and shook as I pressed down on the gas, intent on getting home as fast as I could.

  I didn’t even notice the road sign as I shot past Delai.

  21

  There comes a point when you figure that things can’t get any worse and you do something you probably shouldn’t. The world seems to conspire against you, and you just decide that you might as well dive in headfirst rather than take the cautious approach.

  I’d reached that point by the time I got home, still splattered with werewolf blood and brains, not to mention whatever slime that had covered Strinowski.

  Jeremy was standing in the kitchen. He jumped when I threw open the door and stalked past him. He watched me go without a word, mouth slightly agape, eyes as wide as they’d go.

  I headed straight for the stairs that led to Ethan’s lab without paying him much more than a glance. If I’d been in a better mood, I might have thought his reaction funny. Instead, it just irritated me all the more.

  The lab door was firmly locked and I punched it once before pressing the intercom button. “Ethan,” I snapped. “Get up here.”

  I had to wait only a few seconds before the door opened. Ethan was bathed in sweat and looked as though he hadn’t really slept. His hair was tousled like usual, his shirt stained with something that looked like ash.

  He looked me up and down and gulped. “You’ve got blood on you.”

  I glanced down at myself and shrugged. “That happens when people piss me off,” I said. Normally, I would have changed first thing after coming home from a kill, but I was so pissed, it hadn’t even crossed my mind.

  And it wasn’t what I’d seen at Strinowski’s place that had me in such a foul mood. I’d seen death before, had seen some pretty sick things, so that wasn’t anything new. Sure, the sight of Strinowski’s victims had shaken me up, but that was something I’d eventually get over.

  No, my biggest issue was that Countess Baset had wanted me to kill him. I would have killed Strinowski on my own if I’d known about him, but having a vampire tell me to do it made the act seem vile somehow. I wasn’t given a choice.

  I hated having my choices taken away from me.

  “Is he down there?” I asked.

  “Um.” Ethan glanced over his shoulder, giving me all the answer I needed.

  I stepped toward the door and Ethan moved to block my way. I could have forced him out of the doorway, but I might have hurt him in doing so. I was tired of hurting my friends.

  That didn’t mean I wouldn’t threaten them.

  “Ethan,” I said, putting as much warning into my voice as I could. “Move.”

  “You’re free,” he said. “You don’t want to do this.”

  “I’ll decide what I want and don’t want to do. I’m in no mood to piss around, so get the fuck out of my way.”

  Ethan held his ground. “Kat,” he said. His voice was trembling and he was clearly terrified, yet he still blocked my path, something he wouldn’t have done a few months ago. “If you go down there, he’ll trick you into another mark. Do you really want that?”

  “I have to know,” I said. “I’m tired of not knowing, tired of people lying to me, controlling me. If what the demon says is true, I have to know.”

  Ethan looked uncertain and then slumped. He knew I was going down there with or without him. “Okay,” he said, stepping aside.

  I brushed past him and went down the stairs. Heat blasted into me, taking my breath away for a split second before I was able to recover. My eyes watered and my skin felt like blistering, but I stood against it, refused to let my discomfort show.

  “Ah, my sweet Lady Death,” Beligral said. He was lazing in his chair, one leg tossed over the arm casually. “Come to see me again, I see.”

  “What is this going to take?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What is it you are ref
erring to?” He gave me a wicked smile.

  “You fucking well know what I want,” I snarled. “What is it going to take for you to show me what Levi is and what he’s doing to those people?”

  Beligral’s smile turned satisfied. “You’ll have to come into the circle with me.”

  “And?”

  “And you’ll have to promise that once you see, you’ll come back to me. A small price to pay for the truth, don’t you think?”

  I looked at the circle and then back to the demon. I really didn’t want to get in there with him. I had no idea what he was capable of. Were his powers diminished here? Or was he as strong as ever, even trapped inside the circle?

  “I don’t want to be toyed with,” I said. “If you are lying to me . . .”

  The demon laughed. It grated on my nerves to the point I wanted to draw my gun and shoot him just to make the sound stop. I didn’t know if a bullet would break the circle or not. I didn’t plan on finding out either.

  “As I’ve said before, when have I ever lied to you? Think back. I’ve been nothing but honest with you ever since the first time we met. I’ve given you everything you’ve ever wanted that was within my power to give. Even before you knew I existed, I was helping you become the killer you are today. Don’t you think I’ve earned some of your trust by now?”

  I so didn’t need to be thinking about how the demon had helped make my weapons. I could almost feel them burn through my clothes. They’d been at least partly crafted by him, if not completely. I had no idea what role Ethan played in their creation, if any at all. And as far as I knew, the silver used to craft them had come from the demon realm as well.

  What kind of person did that make me in using them?

  “Ethan,” I said, glancing back. He was standing at the foot of the stairs, watching the conversation with dismay. “Dismiss him. I’m going in there.”

  “Kat, please . . .”

  “Do it.”

  Beligral smiled as Ethan dismissed him. As soon as the demon was gone, I stepped over the chalk outline and silver circle, and waited for Ethan to set everything again.

 

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