by Amity Cross
“Who are you people?” Allaire asked, his gaze flickering from me to X. I couldn’t tell if he was at the point of pissing his pants yet. Maybe he was tough, but he looked like he’d cry soon enough.
“Who we are is of no concern,” X said, staring at him.
“You have someone we want,” I said, drawing his attention. X didn’t move, he just sat back on his heels, watching our exchange. He’d given me the power and I intended to wield it with an iron fist to the fucker’s face.
“I have many people.” Allaire looked me up and down, his expression closed. “Do you want to fuck, torture or kill, little girl? Name your price.”
I felt anger start to boil inside of me. I knew what he was implying, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “Your life, for Sykes.”
Allaire started to laugh. “I knew that English bastard was going to be trouble.”
“Where is Sykes?” I asked thinly, my fingers twitching at my sides. “Give us a location and we won’t feed you to the rats.”
Allaire let his head loll back against the sculpture. “In the halls of the dead,” he muttered in his thick French accent. “Disrespectful little whore.”
X had said to wait, to see what I could get out of him with verbal threats, but I was losing patience. Looked like I’d have to get physical with the asshole sooner rather than later.
“We would get a lot for a whore like you,” Allaire said with a smirk. “I know a buyer who would love to break you, little girl.”
Rage boiled hot through my entire body and I lashed out, my fist connecting with his nose. Blood erupted, running down his face and into his mouth.
“Tell me where Sykes is,” I snarled.
He stared up at me, his expression cold. “You don’t think I’ve been through this before?”
“Not with me you haven’t, Allaire. Where. Is. Sykes?”
“First, they will tie you from the ceiling,” he said, his gaze never leaving mine. “Then they will strip you naked, taking all your self-respect. Then they will flay you until your skin hangs in ribbons. Then they will fuck your little cu—”
I backhanded him, my knuckles tearing into his eyebrow. “I can do this all day, all night and for the rest of your goddamn fucking life.”
He spat a mouthful of blood onto the earthen floor. “We will rape you until you can no longer scream. We will rape you until you bleed.”
Motherfucker. I pulled my gun and pressed the barrel against his forehead. Right between the fucking eyes.
“Do you think I won’t kill you, you sick son of a bitch?” I roared. “You deserve it. You fucking deserve it.”
“Mercy.” I vaguely heard X’s voice from someplace far away.
I clicked off the safety. “Where is Sykes?”
Allaire stared at me stony-faced.
“Where is he?”
“Fuck. You.”
X's hand curled around my wrist, pushing the gun away from Allaire’s head. “Enough.”
He pulled me from the room, dragging me across the floor, closing the door between me and Allaire. I wrenched my hand from his grasp, anger searing through every nerve ending in my body.
I opened my mouth to give X a piece of my fucking mind, but he lashed out and forced the gun from my hand.
“I’m forbidding you,” he snapped.
My mouth dropped open. “Forbidding me?”
“You will not go back, Mercy.” His eyes were cold, devoid. It was X the hitman, not X the lover standing before me, and the hitman was pissed. Yeah, well that made two of us.
“Or what? Or you’ll tie me up again?” I spat.
X narrowed his eyes. “If I have to.”
I stared him down. We wouldn’t get anywhere with this guy if we coddled him. We had to take it by force.
“If you kill him,” he went on, “we have nothing.”
I narrowed my eyes. X was right, but I didn’t want him to be. I’d fucking lost the plot and fucked if I was going to admit it.
“Then you go interrogate him,” I snarled.
X’s hand shot up and grasped my face, his fingers digging into my jaw.
“Rein it in,” he snapped. “Lock it away or I will take you from this place and deny you everything.”
I shoved him away. He couldn’t control me like that anymore. He’d created me, it was his fault… “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I do not need to be here, Mercy,” he said thinly. “My interests lie with Royal Blood. I do not need to be here.”
I began to soften, my breathing slowing to somewhere close to normal. He was putting himself in danger for me. I took a step back and hoped he saw it for what it was. Acquiescence.
X bowed his head slightly before turning his back on me, closing the door between us.
I sank down onto the foot of the stairs, averting my gaze from the creepy bones. Too fucking emotional. Right then, I didn’t care. I wanted my revenge too bad. I was fixated on it. I’d carve a path through humanity to get what I wanted, no matter the cost….but I never thought that it would include X.
He was right. He was always fucking right and I resented him for it.
Our first fight. How fucking normal.
Twenty-Six
X
Two more seconds and Mercy would’ve pulled the trigger.
Two more seconds and she would have become like me. Like a fucking child with a toy, I had to forbid her. Fucking hell.
If she didn’t stop, she’d lose everything. How many times did I have to tell her?
Venturing back into the room, I closed the door softly, turning to the man who deserved everything Mercy was going to do to him. Unfortunately, we needed him alive to achieve the ultimate goal.
“Trouble in paradise?” Allaire asked with a condescending laugh.
I knelt in front of him, Mercy's gun dangling in my hands. “She’s hotheaded, but she never fails,” I said, calmly. “She has a penchant for theatrics.”
Allaire stared at me, his expression impassive.
“Well, this is a predicament, is it not?” I cocked my head to the side, closing off all the light and warmth that had been awakening in my mind since Mercy walked into my life.
Allaire began grinding his teeth, his body sensing the change in the air. He thought he was having a great fucking time winding Mercy up, but he hadn’t seen anything yet.
“You see, Mr. Allaire, you've caught me at a little bit of a disadvantage,” I went on. “I'm without my tools, so I'll have to improvise. I'm rather...crude when I'm under pressure. I'm also at a bit of a philosophical crossroads.”
Allaire cocked his head to the side, scowling.
“Usually,” I continued, “I wouldn't allow you to leave this room alive. You've seen her face. You've seen mine. My identity is somewhat of a secret you see, but I'm a man in a state of flux, Mr. Allaire. Two nights ago, I leveled half a city block. Today…” I trailed off with a shrug. “It could go either way.”
He watched me, perplexed.
“So, you tell me, Mr. Allaire. Which way is this going to go?”
“When I don’t return…”
My left hand shot up and grasped his face, my fingers digging into his skin. His eyes began to glass over, indicating that I was causing him pain.
“You are nothing but a conduit to Sykes, Mr. Allaire. You know what that means? You are disposable, unless you can tell me what I want to know.”
He wrenched his face from my hand. “Where there’s one, another will take my place.”
I began to laugh. “You think I’m the good guy?” I shook my head as our prey watched me in confusion. “Fuck… Let me clear something up for you.” My smiled faded and I leaned in close. “I’m the bad guy, Mr. Allaire. I’m the monster in this story and monsters rarely let their quarry go without pain and suffering.”
Allaire began to pale, his skin looking ashen in the warm glow of the lamp. “You’re…”
“I am Xavier Blood, Royal Blood’s monster, now without a leash. Pl
eased to make your acquaintance.”
Allaire watched me with wide eyes and I could smell the fear radiating from him in sickening waves. So, he’d heard of me. Fucking good. This was totally out of character for me to play with my victim, but I rarely needed to extract information. Allaire knew he was in the shit. He knew he was as good as dead, but what he now wanted was a merciful end. That I could give him, in exchange for what I wanted to know.
“Now you understand your predicament,” I said, waving the gun absently. “You know what we want from you. Now you have to make a choice. I will make it quick and painless. She will blow your left nut off with that gun of hers.” I jammed the end of the gun into his groin and he began to squirm in fear. “Then she’ll blow the right into next week. Then she’ll split your cock right down the middle with a hacksaw. Tell me where Sykes is and you’ll get me. Keep your mouth shut and you get her. The emotional one. You know what they say about pissing off a woman, Mr. Allaire.”
He stared at me, blood oozing from the cuts Mercy had inflicted and opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“What is it going to be, Mr. Allaire? Answer now or forever hold your peace.”
I opened the door and emerged into the catacomb, brushing my hands on my jeans. Mercy was sitting at the foot of the stairs, knees up and her chin cradled in her hands.
“A hacksaw?” she asked.
“I see you've calmed down somewhat,” I replied blandly.
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t hear any screaming.”
“Not everything is about physical pain, Mercy. Psychological torture is sometimes more effective than using fists.”
“The fear of what is going to happen outweighs the actual act.” She nodded her head.
“Feel better?” I asked.
“Somewhat.”
I held out my hand. “Come.”
“You’re letting me go back in?” She eyed my hand with skepticism.
“To drive a point home,” I replied, gesturing for her to stand.
She rose to her feet and pushed past, shoving open the door and walking into the light. Rolling my eyes, I followed her inside, glad that I’d had the foresight to disarm her. How much harder did I have to push to make her realize that she had to separate her emotions?
Mercy stood before Allaire, regarding his bloody face. His white dress shirt was stained, his expression crumbled from stony-faced defiance to fear.
She glanced at his crotch and he began to squirm. It was the mere thought of pain that got people talking. Sometimes it came down to that, but mostly they’d do anything to avoid going through it. We didn't have time for the hard way today.
“You said if I gave you what you wanted you’d let me go.” Allaire glanced at Mercy, then at me.
I narrowed my eyes. “We won’t let you go until we return, so if you are lying to us nobody will find your pathetic ass. You’ll die a slow and painful death, locked in this room, all on your own. Nobody will find you until your corpse stinks up the entire catacomb. Is that what you want?”
“No,” Allaire cried, squirming against his restraints.
“Then you won’t have anything to worry about if your information is correct,” I said. “We get what we want, we come back for you.”
“You’ll just kill me anyway.”
I glanced at Mercy. “He’s given us what we want. What say you?”
Mercy didn’t blink. “Leave him.”
I raised my hand to cup her face and stroked my thumb across her lips. “Are you sure?”
She nodded like she’d had some sort of epiphany while she was stuck in my forced timeout. “Yes.”
Dropping my hand, I turned back to Allaire. “There you have it, Mr. Allaire. We will be seeing you again.”
I knelt in front of him and held up a roll of duct tape. Tearing off a strip I slapped it across his mouth with a smile. He began saying something, but his words were muffled. A man like him didn’t deserve to wait in comfort. He was dark, so that’s what he’d get. It was a sight more comfortable than the victims of his friends and business partners. Slaves in the dark.
“Lucky for you,” I said, picking up the lamp and standing tall, “I’m leaning towards lenient today. I guess love will do that to a man.”
Turning, I grasped Mercy’s hand and led her from the room, Allaire’s muffled cries of protest following us out into the warren of human desolation.
This bullshit was going to end today, one way or another.
Twenty-Seven
Mercy
I guess love will do that to a man.
Holy fucking shit.
I let X lead me from the room, partially dazed by his revelation. He loved me? He’d said it to Allaire, not to me, so did it count or was it just something he’d said to fuck with his mind?
“X…” I muttered once we were out of earshot. “Did you mean it?”
“Allaire has put up his guest in one of his properties in Versailles,” he said, ignoring my question.
I narrowed my eyes, a lie then. I pretended my heart didn’t just break a tiny little bit. “Versailles, as in the Palace?”
“Versailles, the village, Mercy,” X said, tightly. “Forty minutes outside of the city.”
“When do we go?”
“We don't have time to plan,” he said, taking the duffle from me. “When Allaire doesn't return, they will be on high alert.”
“We're going now?” I began to feel sick. I was totally going to hurl.
X scowled and began to ascend the stairs to the surface. “You are not having second thoughts now, Mercy. You're giving me fucking whiplash.”
“But—”
X turned, his eyes darkening dangerously. “Oh, I would love to fuck you back into submission, but I don't even have time for that.”
Dare I say it? “I'll let you fuck me however you want after Sykes is dead.”
Blood, murder, revenge and hardcore fucking. X’s eyes widened slightly, the only indication he gave that I’d said the right thing. He was pissed with me, but as he said…there wasn’t even time for that. There wasn’t even time for the existential argument of his feelings for me. This hit had to happen now.
“We need to go,” he snapped. “We may only have hours to do this thing.”
As we resurfaced, I blinked sharply at the sudden burst of sunlight, waiting a moment until my vision cleared. X did the same, waiting just inside the entrance to the catacomb. He signaled it was all clear and we stepped out into the world once more.
We left the cemetery as casually as we could, walking the side street with our heads down.
“How are we going to get there?” I asked. “We have no car, the trains will be watched by the cops…”
“Here,” X said, stopping by an older model car that was parked in a spot beside us. It was some monstrosity from the nineteen eighties, full of rust and lax security. As long as it got us to where we were going.
Dumping the duffle bag on the footpath, he ripped open the side and unthreaded a piece of plastic from the lining. Then he stood and stuck it through the top of the window, lowering it inside the car. A moment later there was a click and he tested the handle. It opened and he tossed the bag into the back.
“Get in,” he barked at me.
I slid into the passenger seat, flabbergasted that he could break into a rust bucket with only a flimsy piece of plastic.
“Are you James Bond?” I asked as he pulled at the wiring under the steering column.
“No,” he retorted. “James Bond is the good guy.” He struck two wires together, completing the circuit for the ignition and the engine roared into life.
Without hesitation, he shifted the gearstick into drive and pulled out into the street. How to steal a car, hitman style, one-oh-one.
He weaved through the narrow back streets of Montmartre, before emerging onto the main boulevard and slipping into the midday traffic. Since it was Sunday, it was pretty light, so our progress unhindered.
X pulled out some
thing from his coat pocket and I sat up, watching him.
“What’s that?”
“Allaire’s mobile phone,” he said, scrolling through it while driving one-handed.
“Won’t they be able to track that?”
“Probably, but we need a map.” X swerved, his attention too split for my liking.
“Give it here,” I snapped, snatching the phone from his hand. “Give me the address.”
X rattled off something in French and I had to ask him to slow down. Once I got the address up, I steered him on the right path and began snooping through the phone to see what dirt I could find on our captive. Any shred of intel on this guy and his set up was worth its weight in gold.
“How does he contact his men?” X asked as I sifted through the call log.
“Sometimes by calling, sometimes by text,” I replied. “It looks like it’s in some kind of code, though.”
“Show me.” I held up the phone, showing him a string of messages. They all looked like gibberish to me. His gaze flickered from the screen to the road a couple of times.
“Do you think we can signal his men somehow?” I asked. “Get them to stand-down from the house?”
“Perhaps. Though it might not be worth the risk.”
I shivered, biting my lip. He might have the ninja skills to knock them out cold with a crazy badass nerve pinch, but I didn’t.
“I’m angry with you, Mercy, but I’ll be with you until the end,” X said, placing his hand on my thigh. “Once it is done and we are away from this place, then we will talk about today.”
I glanced at him, my lips parting. “You want to talk? Actually talk about your feelings and shit?”
He pulled his hand away with a scowl. “Now is not the time to be a bitch, Mercy.”
“So, are you just dangling the proverbial carrot until we’re no longer in the crosshairs?”
He smiled wryly.
“I don’t like it when you lie by omission, X,” I said sullenly. “Or when you use our relationship in your interrogations.”
He didn’t reply, he just kept his gaze fixed on the road.
