Perfectly Toxic

by Kristine Mason

  That would be a waste. “You might want to cut off his tongue, too. He definitely knows how to use it,” she lied, just to piss off Rodney even more. Although she could have done without the hair pulling and the punches he’d wielded, the satisfaction of knowing he’d finally snapped had been well worth the aches and pains. She finally had him where she’d always wanted him…on equal ground.

  “I hate you,” he said, then forced his tongue down her throat.

  She could bite him, hurt him, but she loved the punishing kiss, the excitement rushing through her body and straight to her sex. Now that he’d finally understood that he was just like her, the two of them could be unstoppable. They could spend their days at the plantation house, luring the unsuspecting, torturing them, finding new ways to experiment on them, and continue to fill the barn with bodies. Or travel the country, maybe even the world leaving death in their wake. The idea thrilled her as much as Rod’s kiss. She could finally be free. She would no longer have to hide behind a veil, pretending to be good, or wanting to be better. If only she could talk Rodney into keeping Liam. He could be their muscle. Plus, he was expendable.

  He tore his mouth from hers, then stood. After stepping over her body, he walked to Liam, then removed the tape from his mouth. “Did you enjoy having sex with Adeline?”

  She scooted upright, and craned her neck. Saw the frown scrunching Liam’s face and wondered if the name game would screw with the voices still left in his head.

  “You mean Madeline,” Liam corrected him.

  “That’s not her real name, just as Roderick isn’t mine. So, tell me, did you enjoy her?”

  “It beat the hell out of watching TV.”

  Rodney chuckled and looked down at her. “That had to hurt.”

  It didn’t. Liam was proving his loyalty to her. After the way Rod had punched him in the crotch, then had proceeded to beat her, Liam had to know that if he answered truthfully, the consequences wouldn’t be good for either of them.

  Rod looked back to Liam. “How do you feel?”

  “My dick is sore, maybe you should let Adeline kiss it and make it better.”

  Rodney’s face reddened as he let out a bark of laughter that held no humor whatsoever. “Apparently I didn’t hit you hard enough, you still have balls.” He opened up the small plastic box he’d returned to the room with, then pulled out a syringe. “I told you I was going to break you, fix you, then kill you. After I saw you and Adeline, I was going to just kill you, but I want to hurt her with more than my fists. So now I’m going to fix you, humiliate her, then kill you. Sound like a plan?”

  “Go to hell,” Liam said, as Rodney pierced his skin with the syringe, and sent the drug into the man’s system.

  The joke was on Rodney. She’d modified his drug, just as she’d done years ago when he’d tested it on Federal prisoners. Rod would not be fixing Liam. If anything, he’d make the man more violent, his thoughts darker. Based on the prison experiment, it might take a day or two for the change to occur, but those prisoners hadn’t been saturated with A-Line. Liam could experience the break within hours, maybe minutes.

  Rodney set the empty syringe back in the box, then walked over to her. After taking the key for the handcuffs from his pocket, he removed the cuff securing her to the bed, then shoved her onto her stomach before she had the chance to react, and cuffed her wrists together. He forced her to her feet, then pressed his mouth to her ear. “No reaction to what I’ve done? You’re not upset that I’ve just destroyed the psychopath you’ve created?”

  She grinned. “I hate to break it to you, sweetie, but I played with your drug. Again.”

  He jerked her to his chest. “I know.” He slammed her to the mattress. Pain shot across her cheek as it connected with Liam’s shin. Holding her down, he unraveled the chain from his hand. “Did you really think I wouldn’t check and recheck my formula after the prison experiment failed? How stupid do you think I am?”

  Adeline stared at Liam, who began sweating profusely. Her heart raced. “You knew? This whole time, you knew?” Something inside her…cracked. There had to be a way to stop Rodney from destroying what she’d created. Liam was on the edge of no return, she’d been sure of it when she had left his room earlier. He’d accepted the man he had become, the psychopath she had wanted him to be. Just like his morality, anything good that had been left inside of him, had shriveled up and died, Liam had enjoyed the pleasure of her body, making him loyal to her. Like any animal, that hadn’t meant she would trust Liam, but she’d suspected he would have done whatever she had commanded. After all, her voice would have been the dominant one in his head.

  If Rodney’s drug worked, Liam would go back to his schizophrenic self. For the first time in her life, she understood defeat. Rod was right…it hurt. And pissed her off. She’d been careful, calculating…

  “I didn’t know about Gramma,” he said, taking her panties down over her hips. “When were you going to tell me?”

  The chain bit into her skin, but not enough that she couldn’t breathe. “After you realized you and I were alike,” she answered honestly, and didn’t struggle when his penis pressed against her sex. He’d won—this round. In the end he would come to realize that she’d done them both a favor. They’d move on, do other things. Not the way she’d hoped, but she could be persuasive. “The old lady was in the way. Don’t deny it.”

  He pulled the chain tighter as his entered her. “And how will we explain her death? When you were killing her, did that occur to you?”

  She sucked in a breath as he pushed himself deeper. “I didn’t care. I just wanted her dead.”

  “Like our baby?”

  “Who said she was yours?” she asked, wanting to hurt him. The baby had been his, and had needed to be destroyed. Although the child could have been molded into something greater than Liam, she would have taken up too much of Rodney’s time.

  Rodney stilled. The whore. He glanced to Liam, who grinned. Holding the man’s gaze, needing to prove he was the dominant one in the room, that he held the power, he moved over Adeline, faster, harder.

  “You filthy bitch. If I’d known, I would have killed her myself.” Liam’s smiling, sweaty face doubled as the rage, the deceit, the utter betrayal fragmented his self-control. “Smile away motherfucker,” Rodney shouted. “When I’m done with my whore, I’m going to kill you.” Darkness shrouded him. He closed his eyes, took pleasure in Adeline’s body while he pictured slitting the man’s throat. Liam thought to laugh at him, at the way Adeline had duped him, duped them all. He’d see how much the bastard was laughing when blood spurted from his throat.

  Adeline grabbed the front of his shirt with her cuffed hands. He ignored her, and instead, quickened his pace. The slut didn’t need to get off tonight. This was all about him and would be for a long time. Just thinking about the many ways he would continue to punish her over the next few weeks, maybe months, had him harder than he’d ever been in his life.

  “S-stop,” Liam shouted.

  He ignored the man. Thought only about the way he’d humiliate her, shame her, bring her to her knees. Focused on his pleasure, on showing Liam how it was done, on proving to Adeline that she belonged to him. His orgasm neared. “No stopping, this is the proper way to handle a woman.” He glanced at the man. Liam had grown pale, and sweat poured from his forehead, coated his twitching upper lip. “What it’s like to be the one in control,” he said with a grunt, blood rushing to his head, the room becoming tinny.

  He let himself go…

  Breathing hard, he eased up on the chain, then slipped from her. After pulling his pants back into place, he smacked her rear. “Get up. I want you to watch me kill your creation.” When she didn’t move or make a sarcastic comeback, he grabbed her hair and pulled back. “Don’t act…” The room went out of focus. His stomach dropped. His heart stuttered. “Addy?” He flipped her onto her back.

  Mouth gaping, eyes open wide, her head lolled to the side.

  “No. No. No!” He
pressed his head to her chest, rested his fingers at the pulse point of her throat. Can’t be. He’d been scaring her. Wanted to prove a point.

  He began CPR. Breathed into her mouth. “Come on, Addy. Fight for me. You can’t leave me. Please,” he begged, then breathed into her mouth again.

  “You killed her.”

  Never taking his eyes from Adeline’s beautiful face, he ran his fingers along the marks he’d made against her neck, then grabbed the chain. “Because of you,” he shouted, whipping the chain at Liam’s face.

  The bastard cried out as he raised the chain again and struck. Once, twice…he fell against the bed and wept. What had he done? “I didn’t mean…” He quickly removed the handcuffs from her wrists, then covered her with his body and kissed her still warm lips. “I love you so much. I’m nothing without you.” Tears blurred her face as he cradled her dead body. “I don’t know what to do,” he repeated over and over. Rocking, trying to make sense of what had just happened, of what to do next.

  What would Adeline do?

  “Burn it.” He glanced to Liam, who had turned incredibly pale. “I’m going to burn it to the ground.”

  The man’s forehead wrinkled. “Something’s wrong. I-I can’t explain what—”

  Rodney stood. Wiped his face, then fell to pieces when he looked at Adeline again. He lifted her in his arms, took her from the bed, then he dropped to the floor, holding her, hugging her, wondering how the hell he was supposed to exist without his other half.

  “I-I c-can’t—”

  Rodney glanced up, couldn’t care less that Liam convulsed against his restraints, that drool flowed from his mouth, that his drug not only hadn’t worked, but that it might kill the man. He looked away. Held Adeline close, kissing her forehead, her cheek, her lips.

  Rage ripped through him as he looked back to Liam. “This is your fault,” he yelled, and fed off the welts rising along the bastard’s face. “You’re going to pay.” He hugged Adeline tighter. “Slitting your throat would be too easy for what you’ve done.”

  Liam continued to convulse, even as Rodney set Adeline on the floor, even as he wept over her and kissed her one last time. He stood, wiped the snot from his nose, then approached the bed. “I pray you’ll burn in hell. In case you don’t, I’m going to give you a taste of it.” He punched him in the face. Flexing his fist, he stepped back, looked to his beautiful Adeline, then sucked in a sob. “I’m so sorry.”

  He rushed from the room. There was nothing here for him anymore. There was no reason to live. He would die tonight, because one day without Adeline was too much to bear. She was his life, the other half of him. As he made his way down the steps to the second floor, then the first, his only focus was on death.

  His.

  He reached the first floor, ran into his childhood bedroom, then quickly used the chemicals he had to create a flammable substance. Within minutes, he left a trail from his room, to the living room, the hall, then ran out of the liquid after dousing the parlor sofa with the remains. He reached into his pocket for the lighter he’d grabbed. Another sob tore through him as he pictured Adeline, as guilt compounded and shredded his insides. He flicked the lighter, then rested it against the sofa. If burst into flames.

  He stared at the blaze, saw only Adeline. After taking several backward steps, he dropped to the floor, then curled into a ball and wept.

  Outside the House of Archer, Bower, Georgia

  Monday, 10:18 p.m. Eastern Daylight Saving Time

  Cash scratched the back of his neck where another mosquito had taken a bite. The waiting, the worrying ate at him. Gnawed at him like thousands of mosquitos. Every second that Mel was inside that ugly, old house was a second too long. Not knowing what was happening to her scared the hell out of him. She was tough, but he didn’t want her strength to be pushed to its limits. Everyone had a breaking point. Even highly trained soldiers. On the battlefield, he’d witnessed the downslide of a man’s spirit, the shattering of the mind. If it hadn’t been for his dog, he could’ve come home one of those men. Broken. Depressed. Unable to connect with civilian life.

  But who’d have taken care of Dolly? His girl had saved his life, and he owed it to her to prove the loss of her legs had been worth it. Mel had saved him, too. Instead of only proving his worth to his dog, he’d had an intelligent, sassy woman who’d needed to know he was man enough for her. That he could give her the love and home she’d needed.

  What they’d both needed.

  He dropped the binoculars, then wiped a hand down his face. Tasted the bug spray he’d coated his skin with earlier, then checked his watch. He brought the binoculars back to his eyes. He’d been lying on his stomach in the tall grass for only twenty minutes. He didn’t know if he had the patience to last another twenty. They knew who likely lived in the plantation house. Dr. Rodney Archer had once been employed by a pharmaceutical company to create drugs—specifically a drug to counteract the symptoms caused by whatever Noah had been given. The man had to be responsible for drugging Noah.

  As for the woman, Madeline? All they’d need was the element of surprise. After Rachel had sent them the architectural blueprints she’d found in Bower County’s archives, he, Lola and Vlad had studied the House of Archer to the point he probably knew the place better than his own home. He’d suggested attacking from the front, back and side doors—the only three points of exit and entry. While Lola had agreed, she’d thought they should wait until closer to midnight, when Rodney and the woman were likely sleeping.

  He couldn’t help but think about the people the couple had kidnapped, and how much he respected Mel and the agents she worked with for being willing to risk their lives to help those victims. Although he respected Mel and her position with ATL, he still didn’t want her being a secret agent anymore. The both of them needed to put their dangerous lifestyles to rest and start focusing on the future. Expanding the garage, starting a family…

  What would Mel be like pregnant? At the time of the miscarriage, she’d been eight weeks along. She’d still been so slim, if he hadn’t seen the plus sign on the pregnancy test stick, he wouldn’t have believed she was expecting. Regret bit into him just as another mosquito nabbed him on the wrist. He ignored it. Let the insect feed off his bitterness. Where would they be today if he hadn’t chosen the need to experience the rush, the brush with danger? If he hadn’t been worried she’d leave him for good. She sure as hell wouldn’t be inside the House of fucking Archer.

  Anger heated his skin, seeped into his bones. Burned in his gut. Fuck ATL, CORE and every other damned acronym out there. Screw their evidence, their protocol. They were in the frickin’ sticks. The local sheriff wouldn’t even know what to do if they presented him with the evidence Lola assumed they could obtain. Ian Scott thought he could eventually involve the GBI, FBI or DEA—if the sheriff was no help. A lot of good that did Mel and Harrison right now.

  He let the binoculars hang around his neck and stood. The house was less than one hundred yards away. Fueled by the need to see his woman right goddamned now, he’d be there in ten seconds.

  As he started to move, his cell phone vibrated. Torn between the need to find Mel and blowing their cover, he stopped, ducked, then answered his phone.

  “Stay where you are,” Lola said. “I’m coming to you.”

  The phone went dead. She was covering the side of the house, while Vlad had the back. How in the hell had she seen him on the move? He shook his head. She played him and Vlad. Took the side of the house so she could place herself in a position to keep an eye on both of them.

  The grass rustled. He switched the binoculars to night vision and stilled.

  “Cash,” she whispered.

  When he spotted Lola, he rose a head above the grass. “Here.”

  Within seconds, she was next to him. Panting hard, and grabbing his arm.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I didn’t want to do this via phone.”

  Panic gripped him. “Mel?”

 
She held him tighter. “Don’t know. Listen, Mel and Harrison are my people. They mean more to me than I have time to explain. But I know what you feel for Mel is different, same with Vlad, which is why I’m doing this in person to you, and only giving Vlad the go sign.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means that once I tell Vlad what I just learned…I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop him.”

  He grew cold and clammy. “Stop him from what?”

  “Killing. Rachel just contacted me. Rodney Archer has a twin sister.”

  “So?”

  “Her name is Adeline.”

  His skin prickled with dread. “Madeline?” Cash rubbed his hand along his mouth. “And she’s just finding this out now?”

  “Eight years ago, Adeline legally changed her last name from Archer to her mother’s maiden name. After she was accused of killing her roommate.”

  “What the—?”

  “I’m not finished.” Lola let go of him and looked to the plantation house. “Four years ago, their fifteen-year-old cousin went missing while he was staying here for the summer. According to the grandmother, the last person to see him alive was Adeline.”

  He pulled his gun from its holster. “Forget your evidence. We have a doctor who was trying to find a way to cure psychopaths, and Noah who was given a drug that would—essentially—make him psychopathic. Now we have a twin who clearly is a psychopath. I’m not waiting.”

  “I’m not either, but we do this as a team, and as we’d planned. Let me get into position, then contact Vlad. I’ll send you a quick text when we’re set.”

  This was why he liked working alone. He could’ve already been in the house. “Contact Vlad from here.”

  “No, I need to cover the side door. We don’t want these people escaping.” She rose slightly, but kept her head below the grass line. “Remember, we are not shooting to kill,” she said, then took off in a sprint.

  If he recalled, when Lola had brought up that point at the hotel, neither he nor Vlad had agreed. And Lola hadn’t pressed them.