by Liz Crowe
“Twenty-nine. I think.”
“You think?” I asked. How could he not know how old he was? That seemed…weird.
“I don’t know,” he said simply.
“How long have you worked for Royal Blood?”
“Eight years or so.”
Eight years? If he was as old as he thought he was, then whatever they did was done as a young man. He would’ve been twenty or twenty-one…taught how to kill… The scars were on his body to prove it. Fuck, he wasn’t taught though was he? He was conditioned.
“Did you ever want to do anything else?” I whispered, not quite sure if I should be asking.
He stilled. “You know the answer to that question.”
Yeah, I could take a guess. He didn’t know.
“Did you always want to kill Sykes?” he asked with a sneer.
Narrowing my eyes, I bit back, “No. I wanted to be an artist.”
X flicked the knife closed and glanced up at me, staring right into my eyes with that 'deep into your soul' crap he always did.
“So you did,” he murmured, a thoughtful expression on his handsome face.
I rolled my eyes. “So says my file?”
“So says your file.” He tossed the knife onto the floor. “And so says you.”
“I wanted color,” I whispered. “Color, not corpses.”
“And that’s why you couldn’t do it, Mercy,” he stated coldly. “There is no color in murder.”
“I still want it. For them.” No matter the consequences for me.
“If you manage to kill Sykes, what then?”
“After?” I asked. “The moment I woke up here, I figured I’d help you find out what Royal Blood did to you to make you like this.”
X snorted, running his hands over his face. “And why should you care?”
God, I had to say it again didn’t I? He was having another goldfish moment. “Because I believe in you. In your potential as a human being.”
“My potential?” He let out a thin laugh that said it all. Disbelief.
“I’ll show you eventually.”
“Eventually…” he murmured. Pushing to his feet, X unfolded his long frame into a standing position.
He padded across to the closet and slid open a door, revealing all the darkness within. Guns, knives, whips, other devices that I had no idea how depraved they could be… He reached up to a high shelf and pulled something down, something I couldn’t see. He turned and glanced at me on the bed, hesitating before he decided he was going to use whatever he’d gone looking for.
I jerked against the rope, my heart hammering in my chest.
Then I realized what he held in his hands. It was a blanket. He’d only gotten a blanket out of the closet...
He frowned at my reaction before laying the blanket over my naked body, tucking me in with that thing he thought he was incapable of. Tenderness. Leaning over, he cupped my face, stroking the pad of his thumb across my lips.
“Sleep, Mercy,” he murmured.
Like he was some crazy-ass hypnotist, my eyes fluttered closed, one thought lingering in my exhausted mind.
He gave me a blanket…
Chapter Twenty-Five
X
Talking. Getting to know another person for who they were.
Mercy Reid was digging her way inside my flesh the more time that she was conscious and in my presence. I held her hostage in my apartment, but against everything I thought was proper in these kinds of situations, she was a willing captive. She wanted revenge for her family, but what did she want from me?
I was gone before she even woke, but this time one thing was different.
I undid her restraints.
*****
It was quiet out tonight.
The darkness seemed to settle quickly now that the nights were getting shorter. It was like the night was trying to make the most of its time before the sun came back and flooded everything with light.
I leaned against the side of a building hidden in the shadows, watching the street opposite. I had nothing to do until I made a decision about Mercy, so to pass the time and to keep up the ruse, I began to investigate one of the other leads.
It was pointless of course. Any idiot could see with a cursory glance that neither the informant nor the money launderer had anything to do with the hit on Sykes, but I had to look busy to appease the eyes that were no doubt on me. I was getting nowhere fast and had to give them something.
Keep her or kill her.
I’d watched the shop front for two hours now. It was a dry cleaners named Speedy’s, which was the most ironic front in all of criminal history. The money launderer that had stolen money from the Necromancers had gotten himself a new identity and a new business helping small time crooks wrought the system. I wondered if the guy realized how dumb as fuck he really was. It had taken me less then three hours to locate his place of operation and a further two of watching the building to peg down his routine.
The fucker deserved to get a bullet. Idiot.
Emotions that I couldn’t get a handle on swelled in my black heart and I pressed my forehead against the brickwork to cool myself down. Fuck. Frustrated, I pounded my head against the wall, pain splintering through my skull. It made me momentarily forget the silent war that was brewing inside and I wondered if that’s what I needed to cope. Physical pain.
Turning back to the street, I rolled my eyes as a group of men came into view. Black leather, nasty looking, no bikes, but I gathered the dirty fuckers were on a stealth mission. It was a posse of Necromancers and right in the middle was Major Fuckface himself, Sykes.
His expression was pure anger and I knew I was in the shit. Fucking good. Maybe he’d beat the crap out of me so I could become numb again.
“Your money launderer has gotten out of prison and has set up shop,” I said absently as they approached.
Sykes glanced across the street at the dry cleaners and snorted. “You don’t say.”
He didn’t sound interested in the least and I couldn’t blame him. I glanced at the four Necromancer thugs he’d brought along for the ride and rolled my eyes. They were fat, old fuckers who were nothing but brawn without the brains to know how to use it. They were there for show, nothing more. The real man I should worry about was Sykes.
“You seriously think it was that stupid kid that tried to kill me?” he asked, stepping into the alley and out of view from the street.
There was no use trying to convince him otherwise, so I said, “No.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing out here?”
“Killing time,” I said with a smirk.
Sykes pushed me back against the wall, an arm over my chest. “This will be your only warning, Blood.”
“Good to know,” I replied blandly.
I could provoke him and let him cause the pain that I needed to forget all about the broken walls inside me. It would be better coming from him than her. Sykes wasn’t the kind of man that would hold back and since he had a point to make, let him fucking make it.
“I don’t answer to you, Sykes. I will deliver your mark in my own time and my own way. You threaten me and I will just take my sweet ass time,” I said, pushing all his buttons at once.
“You’re walking a dangerous path,” he snarled, anger beginning to radiate from him.
I stared him down, unblinking. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Do I need to teach you a lesson in authority?” he asked, flexing his fingers.
“I guess you do.”
He drew back his fist, swinging with all his strength and I didn’t do a fucking thing to get out of the way. Flesh smacked into flesh and stars erupted in my vision as my head snapped to the side. That ought to do it.
“C’mon Sykes,” I said with a sneer, shaking my head. “Is that all you’ve got? You haven’t even drawn blood.”
“Smart mouthed cunt,” he roared, letting anger rule his actions.
He fisted a hand into the front of my T-sh
irt and punched again, this time pounding into my nose. Warmth began trickling down my skin and I started laughing. Fuck, I couldn’t feel anything at all…this was exactly what I wanted.
Sykes just stared at me like I was losing my mind and shoved me into the middle of the alley. The Necromancer thugs formed a circle around us, readying themselves to jump on command, but their master held up his hand to stop them.
“This one’s mine boys,” he said with a smirk. “Stand down.”
“Yeah, boys,” I said, wiping my nose on the back of my hand. “Heel like the fucking dogs you are.”
Sykes lunged with a roar, sinking a punch into my stomach that made me double over. He punched again, this time right into my diaphragm, driving the air from my lungs. My natural reflexes kicked in and I wheezed for air, but still didn’t make a move to scramble out of the way.
“Fight back, Blood,” Sykes yelled, shoving me into one of his thugs. I was pushed back into the center of the alley and into Sykes’ waiting fist.
It would be sweet fucking justice if I could get in at least one punch for Mercy, but that wouldn’t solve anything. I was already forgetting why I was trying to keep her in the first place, which was the whole point of letting the man that I loathed beat me into a pulp.
Blood streamed out of my nose, dripping off my chin and staining the front of my T-shirt, but it wasn’t enough. I strode forward and shoved Sykes backwards and when he came back at me, I let him push me to the ground.
Sykes didn’t let up his assault as he got his anger out. I gasped as a boot sunk into my stomach and embraced the pain as it burned through my body. I fought my natural instinct to curl into myself and let him beat me as much as he wanted. I forgot my heart and the feelings that had welled to the surface while I was with her.
Tenderness. I forgot what that word even meant. I wanted to go back and embrace the monster I was conditioned to be. That was the easy way out and I was stupid enough to want to take it no matter the cost.
“I.” Kick. “Always.” Punch. “Get.” Punch. “What.” Kick. “I.” Kick. “Want.”
Sykes hauled me to my feet, pain erupting through my ribs, and drew his fist back one more time. The sound of flesh and bone slamming into flesh echoed down the alley as his fist smashed into my eye.
I slid down the wall, laughter bubbling in my chest. I tasted my own blood on my tongue and thought of Mercy.
“You’ve got forty-eight hours, Blood. If I don’t have what I want by then, you’ll go swimming with the fishes in the river, got it?”
I wiped my nose with the back of my hand smearing blood across my skin. “Your wish is my command, master.”
With a snarl, Sykes fisted a hand into the front of my T-shirt and pulled me away from the wall. A moment later, his fist smacked into my cheekbone sending me back into the brickwork.
“I will enjoy putting a bullet into your smart mouth, Blood,” he said before spitting a mouthful of saliva at me. “I will enjoy watching your pretty boy head explode.”
I laughed at the irony as they retreated into the darkness, the pain from my beating blooming across my skin and settling deep into my bones. He sure did like shooting people in the head. It must be his sick fetish.
Sykes thought he’d won this round, but little did he know I had the one thing he desired above all else and he didn’t even know her name.
Mercy Reid.
She was the key to everything.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mercy
Staring up at the ceiling of X’s bedroom, I couldn’t believe that I was free.
He’d fingered me right to the edge of a shattering orgasm before tying me to his bed and I’d been so worked up, I would’ve done anything for him to sate the need that had swollen between my legs. He’d denied me the one weapon I had against his conditioning, which meant he was onto me.
Then we’d talked…we’d actually fucking talked. He showed me a tiny piece of him and it was a treasure I would hold onto forever.
But the most important fact was, he’d untied me while I slept.
Fuck I wanted him. I wanted him to fuck me so bad. Was that so wrong? Considering the things he’d done to me, maybe it was, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. My life had changed irreversibly the night I walked into my childhood home and found my family dead on the plush cream carpet. There was no going back. Not now and not ever.
Padding out into the lounge room, I picked up the T-shirt I’d dropped on the floor hours before and pulled it over my head. The room was warm, the radiator having kicked in some time ago. I switched on a lamp and sat on the sofa, curling my legs underneath me and stared up at the wall. It was still plastered with my story, my reason for revenge, and I studied it as I waited for X to come back.
I had no control over where he went or what he did, I was willingly at his mercy, so I let my mind play over the night that I went to Sykes’ home and tried to kill him.
It was that night that had taught me that I wasn’t a cold-blooded killer, not yet. For six months I’d played that night over and over in my mind until I knew it back to front. I’d had a foolproof plan to get in and get out. I’d planned Sykes’ murder right down to the last detail. Once he was dead, his body wouldn’t be found until I was far away and someone else.
Alison Crawford entered that house and Mercy Reid was meant to leave.
He’d woken when he was meant to stay asleep. If I didn’t hesitate, then he wouldn’t have seen me and tried to defend himself in the first place. I’d choked because I was still a human being who was afraid of taking another life. What I had to do next was simple. I had to overcome the fear and guilt of committing murder, but the secret to that sordid little nugget was still lost to me.
There was one person who knew. X. He knew and he could teach me.
It was a lot more than wanting him to do something for me. I wanted to help X find his own path to revenge and salvation. I wanted his heart to beat again and I’d carve my own out of my chest and hand it to him if that’s what it took. X and I belonged together.
There was movement outside in the hall and I stiffened as the deadlock clicked and the door opened. X shuffled into the apartment, dumping his keys on the floor and slamming the door closed behind him. Blood was smeared all over his face, his eyebrow was split and his nose had gushed red all down his front...
“X?” I asked, fixed to the spot, my heart jackhammering in my chest. “What happened?”
He ignored me, throwing his leather jacket over the back of the sofa. He didn’t even glance at me as he strode down the hall and I began to panic. What had happened to him? Had all of this suffering been for nothing? Had he reverted?
I could choke again and hide in the lounge as he hurt, or I could do the thing I was meant to do all along. Have the fucking balls to do what needed to be done. So I followed him into the hall, my bare feet silent on the carpet.
“X,” I cried at his back, desperate for his acknowledgement. “Answer me!”
He turned sharply and grabbed me around the neck, slamming me back into the wall.
“Do I have to tie you up again?” he snarled, eyes flashing with anger.
His touch made my bruised skin flare and I winced. “Let me help you. Let me-”
He leaned close, his breath hot against my face. “I don’t need your help.”
I pushed against him, clawing at his hand around my neck. It was the same old argument. “Then tie me up,” I pleaded. “Tie me up and hurt me. Fuck me, bite me, take my blood… Let me help you.”
“You would let me cut you?” he asked, his grip slackening. “You would willingly offer your life to a monster? Still? I was fine before you came along.”
“I’m on your side,” I whispered. “How many times do I have to say it?”
“I don’t believe you.”
How could he? He didn’t seem to believe in much these days. He had no reason to trust anybody considering his lot in life.
“Let me show you.”
/> His gaze searched mine for a moment, my heart breaking at the sight of the blood smeared over his face and chest. He snarled and let his hand drop from around my neck and turned, shoving open the door to the bathroom.
I sucked in a few lungfuls of air, the bruised skin aching from his constant touch. Water started flowing in the shower and I padded down the hall, lingering in the doorway. X had stripped, flinging his bloodstained clothes on the floor. He stood in the shower, naked as the day he was born.
The bathroom was rapidly filling with steam as water pounded in the shower and I stepped into the room boldly. No weakness, no fear and strength, Mercy.
X turned sharply at my entrance, water cascading over his head, and my nipples began to tighten at the sight of his naked body. He was really something to look at and covered in blood…that was a sight that awoke a desire too dark to understand.
I dragged the T-shirt he’d dressed me in over my head and it dropped to the floor, his gaze settling on my breasts where his teeth marks were still visible against my pale skin. Trying to keep the fear from reaching my eyes, I stepped into the shower, warm water trickling over my body, soothing the ache in my flesh.
“Get out,” he snapped, grabbing my wrists and twisting.
Pain burned through my raw skin, but I pressed my body against his defiantly. “No.”
He pressed my back against the tiles, flexing his cock against my stomach. “I want to kill you,” he murmured. “I need to kill you.”
“Then why haven’t you?” I asked, terror and lust thumping in my heart all at the same time. I pulled my hands away and trailed them over his abs. My fingers found his cock and began stroking.
X’s eyes rolled back slightly and he lowered his lips toward mine, before covering my mouth with his. I sucked on his bottom lip, my fingers leaving his cock and burying into his wet hair, holding him to me. I kissed him softly at first and as he began to respond, I increased the pressure, teasing his skin with the tip of my tongue. He moaned softly, brushing his fingertips across my hips, his cock starting to harden even more against my thigh.