by Amity Cross
Pushing to my knees, I clawed my way up his body and punched, my fist colliding with his jaw. The shockwave shot up my arm, and I felt another stitch pop, but I was too far gone to give a fuck about it.
Greggor spluttered, his eyes wide as I punched him again and again. He was momentarily stunned by my onslaught, and it was the chance I needed to end this before he ended me. Realizing I still had a knife down my boot, I reached behind me and pulled it out, flipping it in my palm. Without blinking, I drove it up through his flesh and in-between his ribs until the hilt stopped me from going any further.
Greggor roared in pain as blood began to seep from the wound, soaking through his shirt. It coated my hand, sticking my fingers to the hilt of the knife. I could’ve twisted, driving the point into his lung and collapsed it, but I was far from done.
Ripping the knife from his side, the serrated edge tore the gash further, his blood flowing thicker. Greggor’s eyes were wide with shock, his features pale. I was sure he’d thought himself indestructible with his motherfucking crown and his network of thugs. But he hadn’t counted on his monster turning and coming for him. He shouldn’t have fucked with what was mine.
Greggor’s mouth moved, but all that came out of it was a gurgle.
“What’s that?” I asked, my face twisting in malice. “I can’t hear you.” I lowered my face closer to his, pressing the tip of the knife over his chest, right above his dirty, fucking heart. “Speak. Up.”
“You think I’m the monster,” he gurgled. “Take a long hard look at yourself.” His eyes betrayed his fear. He was a fucking goner.
“And whose fault is that?” I asked, plunging the knife into his chest. As the last flicker of hope fled Greggor’s eyes, I leaned in close and murmured, “Who’s wearing the crown now, asshole.”
Sitting astride him, I wrenched the knife free and brought it down again and again, carving a hole into the man who took everything away from me. I dug into his flesh and plunged my hand into him. Curling my fingers around his heart and I cut it free as his screams fell on deaf ears.
I only wanted to take from him the one thing that mattered… I couldn’t get my family back, I couldn’t have my life at MI6, I couldn’t have a lot of things. There was only one thing that I could repair…
I wanted my heart whole again, and since I couldn’t grow mine back, I took his instead.
I cut it from his body until the life fled his eyes, until they glazed over and he was gone.
Greggor, the faceless leader of Royal Blood, was dead.
I rose to my feet, clutching his heart in my bloody hand and stared down at my triumph. Devil’s blood coated me from head to toe.
“Holy fuck.”
Turning sharply at the sound of The Hangman’s voice, my gaze collided with Lorelei’s. I held onto her father’s heart like a sick, twisted trophy. Who the fuck knew what would happen now.
Lorelei shoved Vaughn against the wall, and he fell, grasping his side. She glanced at her dead father then back at me. “What have you done?”
“The only thing that could be done,” I said, my chest heaving. “He had to die. There was no other way.”
She glanced at my bloody hand, the one that still grasped Greggor’s heart, then back at me. She’d obviously made a decision, but what one, I didn’t know.
“How nice of you to make this easy for me,” she purred. “Usually I have to go looking for my marks.”
Greggor had tasked his own daughter to kill me, and that meant he’d been telling the truth. He’d conditioned his own daughter. Fucking hell. Who was the real monster in this equation?
“Where is she?” I snarled.
A lazy smile pulled at her lips. “Who?”
I held up Greggor’s heart. “I did it once, I can do it again.”
Lorelei’s expression faltered.
“They conditioned you, Lorelei,” I said, glancing at Vaughn. “They took all of who you were and twisted it, just like they did to me. They’re using you. Your father used you. How the fuck is that love?”
She blinked rapidly, her gaze darting to Vaughn, to her father’s heart in my hand, and back to me. She was confused, doubting…
“Vaughn gave up everything he had to get you back. He tore the world apart to avenge you.”
She stared at my bloody hand and the organ that had once resided in her father’s chest, her expression empty. This could go either way. She could break even further and fall into insanity or be strong enough to hold onto her anchor as the cracks widened. Just as Mercy was my safe haven, Vaughn was hers. She and I were the same.
“He can save you,” I continued. “Vaughn can save you. You just have to be strong enough to let him.”
“Lorelei,” Vaughn murmured, and instantly, her facade dropped. He’d already gotten through to her.
“I—” Her voice broke. “I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”
“Your conditioning is unraveling,” I said, allowing Greggor's heart to slip from my fingers. “It happened to me.”
“Tell him where Mercy went,” Vaughn urged. “She can’t fight him alone.”
Lorelei closed her eyes, and from experience, I knew she was trying to overcome the sensations that were flooding back…the emotions that were once numb to her.
“Mercy has gone after The Watchman,” she said finally. “End of the hall, to the left. They should be there.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
She helped Vaughn to his feet, and he winced, holding his ribs with his free hand. His other arm wrapped around her neck and hers held him around the waist, her shoulder anchoring underneath his. A few moments ago, she’d been threatening to kill me, her expression cold and devoid—much like my own had been before Mercy. If I had to bet on it, I’d put my money down on the fact that something broke when she laid eyes on The Hangman. That was the only reason we were all walking out of this room alive.
“Protect him, Lorelei,” I said, glancing at Vaughn. “You’ll both need each other before this is over.”
If she ever wanted to come back from what her father did to her, she would need him more than she knew.
I watched them leave, Lorelei casting once last glance at what was left of her father, before I moved out into the hall. They disappeared the way I’d come, and I steeled myself for the moment I’d face the man who’d broken me through unimaginable pain.
A shrill scream pierced the air of the warehouse, and my head snapped to the left, my heart lurching painfully in my hollow chest.
Mercy.
Breaking out into a full run, I rounded the corner, slipping on the wet surface and colliding with the opposite wall. Pushing off, I propelled myself forward to the room at the end. The room where her scream had come from.
My boots pounded on the floor, my heartbeat thumping furiously. I had to get to her. It couldn’t be too late…
Bursting through the door, the first thing I saw was Mercy on her knees before The Watchman, her black hair lax, her shoulders hunched. Then I saw the hot poker in The Watchman’s hand.
Bastard…
I didn’t know what I would do the moment I saw the man who’d so brutally tortured me all those years ago. The last time we were together was when he’d delivered me to Weiss at The Gambler’s Inn. I never saw him again, not until this very moment, but it wasn’t him that my eyes gravitated toward.
“Mercy.” It was a sigh, a plea, a declaration of love, a promise… Her name was everything all in the one breath.
She turned slowly, and her gaze met mine, her hand against her cheek, tears falling from her eyes. They were blue…and very much alive. They weren’t full of death like I had dreamed, but pain…so much pain.
Mercy’s hand fell away, revealing a long burn on her perfect face, and I snarled, allowing my rage to surface hot and hard. There would be more underneath her tattered shirt and deeper still. He’d hurt the one person I cared for most in this world.
I took a step forward, my gaze rising to meet The Watc
hman’s. It was time to end this.
Her mouth opened in a gasp, her body tensing, but it was too late to do anything about my fate.
I turned just in time to see an iron bar fly through the air. There was no time to get out of the way. It struck the side of my head, the crack echoing through the tiny room.
Pain, so much pain…then darkness.
I didn’t even remember falling.
Twenty-Nine
Mercy
My face throbbed, but the pain that burned in my heart hurt a thousand million times worse.
X fell to the floor, landing limply, his eyes open and vacant. I lunged for him, reaching out, but the man who’d hit him with the iron bar dragged his body out of reach. I was left sprawled out on the floor, my hand reaching for empty space. He was here. X was here…and they were taking him away.
“No!” I shrieked. “Where are you taking him?”
“Get up,” The Watchman commanded. “Compose yourself.”
I pushed to my knees, my gaze fixed on X’s comatose body as he was dragged from the room. While I still drew breath, I would fight.
I lunged for my captor, a roar exploding from my torn throat, but I didn’t have enough energy in my broken body to go through with it. The end of the poker hit me on the side of the head, sending pain splintering through my skull. I fell, sprawling across the concrete, and stars filled my vision, threatening to drag me under.
“Take her,” I heard The Watchman command.
“No,” I moaned, flailing desperately as hands dragged my body up and off the floor.
I fought the darkness as I was carried from the room and down the hall, my short taste of freedom bitter in my mouth. Where was X?
I couldn’t fight The Watchman, I couldn’t do it… Did that mean I was changing already? Was his conditioning working despite my defiance? Having X bust in on one of the most humiliating moments of my life had almost broken me. I was meant to be strong for him, I was meant to win. I had a chance to get out. I bet on my strength to win, only to fail and be imprisoned once more.
The man carried me through the hallway, taking me back to my hell. I thrashed against his hold as I was strapped onto a bed, my wrists and ankles bound. If I had been in my full strength, maybe I would’ve gotten some kicks in, but I was starved for sleep, exhausted and my ribs were covered in so many burns that the effort it took to even try and fight back took its toll quickly. I collapsed back onto the hard bed as the door closed behind the man, the lock driving home with a bang.
Turning my head, I instantly found X lying beside me, and my heartbeat began to quicken.
He was on a table, his entire body covered in blood. It stained his clothes, his hands, and it dotted his face. How many men had he fought his way through to get here? He hadn’t left me behind after all. He hadn’t been caught…until now. They must be low on manpower after X had his way with them, there was no other reason they’d put us together. I’d see it as a sign and hope the tide was turning.
My face began to contort as I struggled to keep a hold on my tears. I’d fought from breaking for so long…seeing X here was almost the final straw. If he died, then I died. Simple. I couldn’t go on without him. Everything that had happened in my life had led to him—we were meant to be.
A groan split the silence as X surfaced, his features twisting as his body woke.
“X?” I murmured, my voice loud in the silence.
He groaned again, his head turning at the sound of my voice. I choked as I saw the gash on his forehead from where he’d been hit with the bar.
His lips moved slightly, his eyes cracking open.
“X?” I asked again. “It’s Mercy.”
He swallowed hard, his eyes opening further. “Mercy?”
“Yes,” I said. “Yes, it’s me.”
“I had to go to them,” he said, giving away that the knock to his head had sent him into confusion. “I thought they’d take my offer. Greggor and The Watchman for you.”
“Them?” I asked. “MI6?”
He nodded slowly, his eyes glassy.
Then he knew what I’d done… He knew I’d planned to betray him.
“X, I’m sorry, I—”
“Don’t,” he interrupted me. “I don’t blame you. It doesn’t matter.”
“But—”
“Mercy…” he sighed. “Weiss led me there anyway. It was inevitable.”
I glanced at the door, almost too afraid to keep asking questions when The Watchman loomed somewhere in the building. “What do you mean?” I whispered.
“The agent you spoke to,” he murmured. “Weiss led me to her.”
If he’d given X direct means to find Mei, that meant… “You knew her before?”
X nodded. “We worked together.”
X was MI6? He was a fucking government agent? I sucked in a sharp breath, turning my face away. It was the stuff of movies and spy novels…not real life. But how much of this was already blown out of proportion and into the extraordinary? Brainwashing, double lives, torture, assassin training… All of it was un-fucking-believable.
He moaned, flexing his arms against his restraints. “Fuck, my head is killing me.”
I watched him, not sure what to say. What could I? Nothing would make this better, nothing but escape, and right now, I couldn’t see a way out.
“I had this whole other life…” He went on, his voice breaking.
“We knew, X,” I said. “We knew you were someone else before.”
“Sykes killed your family,” he said, his voice wavering. “But I killed mine. They made me kill them.”
Oh god…
“They commanded me and I followed through. I didn’t care. I shot them, and I didn’t care.”
“Royal Blood made you?”
“Greggor made me,” he snarled. “He took my heart…so I took his.”
The blood on his hands, there was so much of it… He couldn’t mean… Even as I tried to deny it to myself, I knew that it was true. X had torn out Greggor’s heart. He deserved to die after all the things he’d done, conditioning his own daughter especially, but like that?
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I couldn’t save you. I tried… I tried.”
“X,” I sighed, turning my head so I could see his beautiful bloodstained face. “While we still draw breath, we still have a chance. Fight to the last.”
He turned, his green eyes meeting mine. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
The answer was simple. “We kill The Watchman and get the fuck out of here. That’s what we do.”
Thirty
X
I was positive that hit to the head had broken more than just my flesh.
Something didn’t feel right, which wasn’t anything unusual. Being not right in the head had become something that was normal.
I lay there in hell, knowing that The Watchman would soon come for us, and told Mercy the entire truth. I prided myself on my commitment to the job, my emotionless skill for killing, and it was the thing that had brought down everyone I’d ever cared about.
Now, she knew everything I did.
I killed my entire family, I lost everything that made me human, and I feared I was about to kill Mercy, too.
She didn’t speak for the longest time, and I was almost sure she’d fallen asleep, but she came out with, “So, you and Mei.”
“I don’t feel that way about her,” I said blandly. “That was a different man.”
“But she tried…”
“I fought for you,” I hissed. “I allowed them to shock my memories to the surface. I played them so I could get to you.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I am a chick, you know.”
“Trust you to make a joke when things are this fucked up,” I spat back.
“We all cope in our own ways,” she replied. “I’ve been hallucinating a lot.”
I turned my head so I could see her face, but she was turned away, her hair tangled and messy. “About?”<
br />
“You.” She breathed deeply. “You came to me and told me things…”
“Whatever I said… It wasn’t real.” I could imagine the things she thought I’d say to her after our fight the night before she disappeared and to think she’d…
“I know,” she said, interrupting my train of thought. “But it was what I needed to hear.” She swallowed hard, turning her face, and our eyes met. “They did so many things to hurt me—”
“Stop,” I murmured. “You don’t need to tell me, Mercy. I know.”
“They said you lasted six months, X. Six. Months.” A tear slid from her eye, tracking down her dirty face. “I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but I don’t even think I could’ve lasted a fraction of that… I feel like a failure.”
“You’re not a failure,” I said firmly, flexing against my restraints. “You’re not.”
“And you’re saying you are?” she asked in disbelief. “I allowed myself to be taken. I—”
“I shouldn’t have pushed you away,” I interrupted. “I should have listened to you from the start. You were right all along, Mercy.”
“If I didn’t feel so fucking raw, I’d make a joke about that, too.” She sighed, tearing her gaze away.
“I’m going to kill him,” I said. “I’m going to kill The Watchman for you.”
Her gaze was fixed on the ceiling. “What about you?”
If there was any time to start talking about my messy feelings, this was it. “You are my everything, Mercy. I live for you.”
“Good,” she whispered. “Hope is good.”
I narrowed my eyes, more from introspection than the throbbing pain that was splitting open my head. She’d wanted to hear these things from me for months now, so why was she pushing me away? I knew the answer. I just didn’t want to acknowledge that The Watchman might’ve already gotten into her head.
“Did you see Lorelei?” Mercy asked, breaking the silence between us. “She was the one who got us out…”
I grunted. “She saw me kill her father.”