* * *
Hunter parks on the corner of the property. We exit the car in silence. I’m dressed in black leathers. The knife that’s strapped to my thigh is my most prized possession, and the small 9mm with a silencer is hidden at my back. It’s the one thing I never leave home without.
As we make our way closer to the large wall surrounding the home, I take in the two floors of opulence that greet us through ornate gates.
There’s a darkness to it, which makes my stomach tighten with a knot of anxiety. Hunter’s already worked the alarm from the cabin. Having someone who’s so well versed in hacking makes our job easier.
We scale the wall easily. Coming from years of training, I’m comfortable climbing and leaping off high edges. There’s a deathly silence that envelops us from the other side. We stalk closer, finding the security nonexistent, and I wonder if this asshole really thinks he’s safe after all the horrors he’s acted out.
The black pillars that stand on either side of the door, the slope of driveway paved in dark stones, and the two ornate gargoyles that sit atop the metal gates scream violence and horror.
The door beckons us as I fall back behind Hunter. He’s never let me go first in a job. The man is like my own personal bodyguard. He unlatches it easily; his lock-picking abilities are renowned in our world.
It’s quiet when we enter, the door shutting with a gentle click. Moving swiftly, we head up the stairs. It’s just hit six in the morning, and we know the man who lives here is a late riser. I follow Hunter down the hallway toward the door we know from the floor plan is a bedroom. The master bedroom.
The door is ajar, and once we step inside, I breathe. A form covered by blankets lies waiting for my revenge. My heart thuds wildly, needing to get this over and done with, but I know as much as I want to rush this, I won’t. I’ll revel in the torture.
Hunter lifts his hand in gesture, telling me to stay put. I do. He moves quietly and swiftly, then pounces. The man is bound and gagged, sitting on a chair within minutes. Shock registers on his face when his gaze lands on me.
“Hello, Dr. Hickson.” I smile, sauntering closer. My partner sits beside him with the back of the chair between his legs. In the man’s face, he trails the barrel of his gun over the fleshy, wrinkled cheek.
“Hmfmmhhmm,” the old man mumbles into the gag.
I reach forward, tugging it out of his mouth. “I’d like to hear him scream,” I tell Hunter who regards me with mischievousness in his beautiful, hazel eyes.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” The doctor gasps when I pull the blade from its holster against my leg.
Placing the steel on his jaw, I trail it up to his ear, pressing harder, piercing just a tiny pinprick to see the crimson trickle from him. “I’m crazy, yes. But this is what you created,” I tell him, cocking my head to the side.
“What? Who are you?”
“Oh dear,” I utter a fake, shocked gasp. “He doesn’t remember the girl he violated. But then again, there were so many. Weren’t there, Dr. Hickson?” Once again, I press the shimmering tip of steel against his throat, this time making a tiny incision where it now slowly bleeds.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice is more confident now, adamant at his innocence. Rearing my hand back, I make contact with his nose. The sickening crunch is the only sound that rings in my ears.
Nothing can ever make up for what he did to me, but this is close enough. I take the knife, watching him splutter and beg for his life, for mercy, and I laugh. The full belly chuckle vibrates through me. I grab one of my amulets, shoving it into his mouth, and punch his jaw shut, listening to the crystal crack. The poison will slowly work itself into his blood stream, and the agony he’ll suffer will be nothing short of blood curdling.
“Mercy?” I spit the word. “Did you show mercy when you shoved that cold, steel pipe inside my body?” I question with enough venom in my tone, trailing my fingertip over his now convulsing chest, over the buttons of his pajamas.
Blood spurts from his mouth as he tries to cough up the metal of the amulet, splashing against my arm. The droplets of crimson a pattern of revenge on my skin. For a moment, I'm hypnotized by it, by the sound of his screaming.
His sagging skin appears like a beacon. I want to see him sliced open but watching him choke on his own lifeforce is almost poetic.
“Did you show me mercy when my cunt bled out over your filthy cock while you laughed and told me how pretty I was?”
My hand finds a life of its own as I pull my knife from the belt holster and make an incision. Like a doctor operating on a patient about to perform heart surgery, I move with the same precision, only my patient isn’t knocked out by drugs. He’s alive, screeching, begging, crying, all the things I did when he violated my innocence.
I don’t know when I finally come to, but Hunter’s arms are around me. He’s holding me so close I feel as if we’re one person. When I turn to glance behind him, I find a dead man slumped in a chair.
“You did it, Buttercup,” Hunter tells me. “You made him pay.”
Chapter 10
Archer
“Sorry to get you out of bed so early, sir, but I thought you would want to deal with this personally.” I must’ve yawned again the way the foot soldier looks at me as we near the entrance to the house. I’m not the best with early mornings. I look at his name tag. Liam Kennedy. I’m sure I know that name from somewhere, and his face looks familiar, but we both stare at each other with eyes devoid of any recollection. This constant feeling of déjà vu is giving me a terrible headache. Liam continues his speech when I don’t answer him. “I was doing my rounds at about seven this morning, and I noticed his front door was open. We don’t normally check out his property as routine because he said we don’t need to. He said he could look after himself, but I was passing, and I just thought it strange the door being like that.”
“He’s an arrogant prick,” I respond as we make our way through the stuffy home.
“Well, it’s got him into big trouble.” Liam opens the bedroom door for me, and the stench of death hits me. “He emptied his bowels everywhere.”
“Shit, what did he have for dinner? Smells like rotten flesh.”
“There’s evidence of a curry in the kitchen.”
“Explains it.”
I stride purposefully into the room and look around. The room is pristine except for the fact that Dr. Hickson is attached to a chair, his head slumped forward, and the crimson hue of blood covers his body. His chest cavity has been carved open, and his heart lies on the floor beside him. What would have once been his dick is hanging by a thread. Someone has done a real number on him. A thought flashes through my mind. It couldn’t have happened to a better man, but it is quickly suppressed when I remember this is the head doctor of The Factory. He is responsible for the project I’m a part of. He gave me life.
“Any idea who did it?” I ask while surveying the scene further.
“No, sir, the place is clean of fingerprints, and no notes were left. They were trained though. They got in by picking the lock, and judging by the fact that the murder occurred in his bedroom, Dr. Hickson was sleeping when they captured him. He didn’t stand a chance, if you ask me.”
I stroke my stubbled chin. I hadn’t had time to shave before coming here. “A rival company?”
“We’ve had no threats recently. The Russians were interested a while back, but they have gone quiet recently.”
“Have someone check out their lead assassin’s movements last night.”
“Yes, sir.”
I lean closer to the body. The doctor has been well and truly carved up. He is barely recognizable as the man he once was. I shut my eyes and inhale. Amongst the stench of death there is something else. I can’t place it.
Again, it is familiar, but what is it?
Jasmine? A perfume?
I open my eyes and look at the body. I’m not a fool. I know Dr. Hickson’s methods. Many virgins have ent
ered his surgeries and come out ripped apart. His cupboards are filled with contraptions that would tear even a seasoned whore apart. A revenge killing. But who?
“Did you find something?” Liam asks.
“No.” I stand back up. The lie hangs heavily on my lips. Why I said it, I don’t know. “Until we know what is going on, I want the guards around the children and the senior leaders doubled. Nobody is to leave the area without my permission. If anyone does, they are to be brought to me, and I will show them what happens if they defy my rule.”
“I’ll put the word out. What are we going to do with him?” Liam nods at the rotting corpse.
I take a final look at the good doctor. The feelings of satisfaction at his gruesome and obviously painful death resurface.
“Take anything of importance and bring it to my room. Anything of value you can share amongst yourselves for cigarettes and weed. Then burn the place to the ground.”
“Yes, sir.” Liam scuttles off, seeming satisfied in the knowledge that being first on the scene will have gained him some additional pocket money.
I spit on the doctor’s body and leave.
* * *
“Who did it?”
I’m standing before Rebekah’s desk. She’s wearing another one of those blouses that shows off the curve of her tits. I need to keep this professional, but my dick has other ideas and wants to come all over the displayed flesh.
“No idea at the moment. I’ve got someone checking out the Russians,” I tell her, taking a seat and bringing one of my legs up over the other.
“If it’s those bastards, I want their head doctor here so I can personally flay his skin from his body and send it back piece by piece.” She slams her fist into the table, my dick getting even harder.
“You’ll get him and a few extras. Don’t worry.”
“Easy for you to say. You don’t have to find a replacement for the best doctor we ever had.” She opens a drawer and pulls out a folder. On it is written Doctors. “Didn’t he even have CCTV?”
“Nope. We’re checking the wider area, but I don’t expect it to bring anything up.” I place my hand over hers. “Don’t worry about the doctor. Just promote his deputy. Throw some money his way, and you’ll get the best service possible.”
“You think it’s that simple?” She curls her lip up incredulously at me.
“I know it’s that simple.” I take the folder out of her hands and open it. There are contact details and qualifications for all the doctors The Factory employs. Dr. Hickson is at the top, and underneath is a man named Dr. Chamberland. “Is that his deputy?”
“Yes.” She rolls her eyes at me. It’s such a turn on when a woman does that.
“Up.”
“What?”
“Get up.” I place the folder down.
“I’m the boss here, Mr. King.”
“Up and over the table. You’re stressed, and it’s my job to alleviate that.”
“You’re very certain of yourself. Maybe last night was a one-time thing.” She purses her lips together and folds her arms across her chest.
“You came on my cock multiple times. I even heard you screaming my name. It’s not a one-time thing. I’ve planted an itch inside you that only I can scratch. Now, last chance. Over the desk, ass in the air.” I stand up and show her the tent in my trousers. After a pause, a battle of wills so to speak, she stands and places herself over the desk. The tight black skirt she’s wearing frames her ass perfectly. I lift the silky fabric and push it to her waist. The black G-string she’s wearing offers little resistance to my needs. With one hard tug, it’s ripped from her body to leave her bare to me. My trousers are undone in seconds. The next thing I know, I’m inside her, my hips moving.
“Archer, fuck me!” Rebekah clamps down on my dick in warning that if I don’t give her what she wants, my male anatomy may go the way of Dr. Hickson’s. It’s a warning I adhere to and fuck her harder. My hips buck against her ass every time I bury myself deep. The papers on her desk are scattered everywhere. Pens, a stapler, and a hole punch clatter to the floor.
I never thought someone’s death would be an aphrodisiac to me, but right now, my skin is itching for release with a need to come. My body is hot, and I feel the ache to fuck.
I’m happy and elated that man is dead, and I don’t know why. Happiness fills my chest that he died in pain. I’m glad his dick was ripped off and his cold, black heart torn from his body. I become lost in a perverse sense of victory over a man that, as far as I’m concerned, has never done anything to wrong me.
My surroundings disappear, feeling only the pleasure cascading through my body. Animalistic grunts are the only sound I make as I rut like a lion into the welcoming vessel. I smell nothing expect . . . jasmine. The perfume that was on the doctor. I falter a second.
“Fuck, Archer. I was close. I’m beginning to worry about your ability to keep your mind on the task at hand.”
I thrust hard back into her, and she screams out in orgasm. I follow her over the edge and empty myself in almost endless jerks into her hot pussy.
“I told you never to worry about coming!”
She tries to get up, but I’m not done. I place my hand on the back of her head and press it into the wood. With the other hand, I pick up the phone and dial the number that happens to still be on the desk in front of me and turn the speaker on.
“What the fuck?” Rebekah tries to kick back.
“Hello?” the voice on the other end of the phone answers.
“Dr. Chamberland?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Congratulations. You just got promoted to head of The Factory medical team. I’ll have all Dr. Hickson’s files brought to you later.”
“What? What’s happened to Dr. Hickson?” he replies in shock.
“He’s dead.”
The line goes silent.
“The job comes with a ten thousand dollar pay raise on your predecessor’s salary,” I offer. Rebekah squirms beneath me, but I’m holding her down, and my cock is still inside her. The friction is making me hard again, and with my free hand, I push a digit into the pucker of her asshole.
“I’ll go and start clearing out Dr. Hickson’s office and move my stuff in.”
I snort at the doctor’s reply. I was right. Throw money at these bastards, and they’ll do anything. I hang up and pull out of Rebekah before thrusting back in.
“Are you crazy?” She tries to push me off, but I keep fucking her.
“Archer?” she shouts, and I still.
“You wanted the problem solved. I solved it. I’m going to fuck you until I come again, and then I’m going to go out there and find the bastard who killed Dr. Hickson. After that, I’m going to hand him to you, so you can see he never touches one of our team again. Understand?”
Rebekah stops struggling, so I move again.
“I’ve created a monster,” she retorts.
“Don’t ever forget it,” I reply as we both come together.
Chapter 11
Samara
The moon hangs in the sky, silver, shiny, beckoning me to remember. So many nights with Asher were spent under a full moon. Like the night he first kissed me. The moment his lips touched mine, I knew I was no longer just a little girl with a crush. I’d changed. I became a young woman with her first love.
As we spent more time together, I grew. I wanted more than we had in that godforsaken house. He promised me we’d run away together, but then he left without me. With all my training, I still wonder if he saw me today, what would he think? I’m a trained killer. I no longer love life, enjoy the rain on my skin, dance in the downpour from heavy gray clouds.
I’m cold, barren, angry.
Rage consumes me on a daily basis.
But seeing my handiwork on the doctor who took everything from me makes me smile. It’s a satisfaction I never knew I’d find. All these years I waited, I trained, I craved their blood on my hands, and now that I have it, I’m slowly finding peace.
I’m still in two minds about what happened. I killed. But I didn’t just shoot someone. I carved him to pieces.
“Buttercup,” Hunter growls from behind me. When I turn around, I find the man who has been through this with me since he found me at sixteen wandering around. I wanted nothing more than to kill, to find revenge, and Hunter trained me.
“Hunt, I’m ready for our next mission.”
“Who’s on the list, babe?” he questions, gripping my hips and pulling me closer to his chest. His solid frame is calming, as if he’s attempting to wrap me in his warmth to alleviate the guilt that seems to be plaguing me.
I know this because Hunter was the one who taught me how to kill. He showed me the easiest way to make men bleed. And at first, I hated it. I never understood why I had to do this, only that I wanted to.
Yes, revenge is warranted, but the violence that now courses through my veins was never there. I look up at him, his hazel eyes glistening.
“Dr. Monroe,” I tell him. Even the mention of the woman’s name is enough to have my skin crawling.
“Diana would’ve been proud of you,” he affirms, gently stroking my arms with the tips of his fingers.
“Would she though?” Shaking my head, I step back, turning away from him to watch as the moon beams down at us. Our mentor died on a job only eight months ago. A revenge mission, similar to what we’re on right now.
“Yes, she would, Sam. You know she always supported you.”
Sighing, I nod. It’s true. She wanted what was best for me. Each time I felt guilt creeping in, she told me that closure is the best medicine. The problem is, I don’t know if I’ll ever find closure, not when I have no idea where Archer is. I never got to say goodbye. Perhaps they found him and killed him. I’ll never know.
After Monroe, there’s only two more people on my list. Dr. Kingsley and Dr. Chamberlin. The last remaining monsters who run The Factory.
Cursed Angels Page 6
