Seducing Two Serial Killers

by Hutchins, Hollie

  Lisa springs to action like a puppet on strings, and Janus lets out a dark growl. “Hang on now, you can't just barge in and take my property like that –”

  Carla's eyes flash. Her form elongates. Her mouth changes into a snake's jaws, and two hooded, scaled flaps burst from the sides of her head. She doesn't complete the transformation, obviously wanting to keep her expensive robes intact, but it leaves her with a hideous, gigantic cobra's head on top of her body. “You want to try protesssting me again?” Her mouth works the words, though her tongue seems to flick of its own free will.

  I shudder.

  “You don't scare me, snake,” Janus says, his voice even. “I mean to keep my property.”

  I don't give a shit how brave or not Janus is, but it is slightly impressive to hold ground against a snake woman.

  In response, Carla spits. A stream of clear liquid jets from her fangs, hitting Janus on his shirt, dripping to his skin. “Several million more for the girl, then.”

  He grimaces at the spit, wiping it instantly, before saying, with a surly tone, “fine.”

  I gape as he agrees. Lisa's now dressed and steps in line obediently behind the woman, who now holds her hand out for Janus's key to my cage.

  He gives it to her after an age, and she opens the door.

  “You are immune,” she hisses, “but you sssshould come with me. If you want to leave.”

  My bones squeak in protest as I clamber up behind this woman. Janus glares at us as the two women he kept captive are taken out of his rooms at last. Down to the door where I planned to escape. Through another, down a long, dark corridor, and finally outside, though we're in the middle of nowhere. A brownfield site with nothing around but rust and decaying buildings. I don't get much chance to savor this before the woman shunts me into a black windowed limosine, and I'm forced to sit next to what must be one of the security guards of the woman, and Lisa Arrow. The woman herself sits on the far side of Lisa, though there's honestly room for two more people.

  She slams the door, and calls to her chauffeur, “To Little Lake.”

  Little Lake. A town in the former desert. Where they grew over the sands of the desert a long time ago and made it fertile again. Away from Richard and Tarren to the nearest town.

  “Why did you buy me?” I say to the woman, who still wears her snake head as a symbol of pride, perhaps.

  The brown and gold spotted snake head turns towards me. Surveying like a cobra about to strike. “You will seeee,” she says, and I instantly know I'm not going to be getting much else out of her. Worth a try. A part of me is happy to be out of Janus's grasp. To have not seen Lisa Arrow get raped by him due to having no control of her mind. To enduring whatever twisted shit he wanted me to go through.

  I try another tact. “Why did you take the girl?”

  Lisa Arrow's sitting there with that vague, dreamy look of someone deep in the throes of hypnotism.

  Carla looks rather puzzled at my question. “I told you. I dissslike sssexual violent towardsss women.”

  “So you're, what? A nice person?”

  The snake woman gives a throaty chuckle and shifts in the expensive leather seats. She strikes such a fearsome sight that for a moment I'm left speechless. Trembling.

  “Far from it. But everyone'ssss allowed their little quirkssss, are they not? Now, girl. Your name?”

  “Lisa Arrow,” the girl supplies dully, still staring ahead.

  “Ohhhh.” Carla grins like a demon. “Janusss hasss been very naughty, hasssn't he? Ssssenator's daughter. Even I know that.”

  For a split second, I imagine Carla's fangs piercing Lisa's neck. That she's found out the hidden value of this woman and means to rid herself of the problem.

  “Don't kill her,” I blurt out, causing the unblinking serpentine eyes to fix on me. “Please,” I add, knowing how pathetic I sound.

  Tossing her glistening head, which twinkles in the reflected light of the screen ahead of us that's playing some obscure international movie, she lets out a hissing laugh. “I will do with her what I deem fit.”

  No more words. No more chances left to speak to her.

  And I roll along in the car to my new fate.

  Tarren

  They're here. The guys who I have to pay an obscene amount of money towards. Mads Rasmusson and Steina Hagen. Scandinavian people who like to come over and visit Animusa, because we pay well for them. People who can't really be trusted, but people who I don't have a hell lot of choice in whether I can trust them or not. They're the people I'm stuck with now.

  Tall, blonde Steina and dark Mads, both essentially fucking vikings, are sprawled over my little office, while Richard stares at them distastefully. Mads maybe has a few too many tattoos for his liking.

  I think it makes us tattoo buddies, personally. He's into skulls and demons and shifts into a bear. Steina's a rare type of shifter, exclusive to the Scandinavian region – she shifts into something called a Valkyrie. It's like a white feathered, tall humanoid with wings and a bone mask over their face. Cool stuff.

  Not the point right now.

  “You really have that much money?” Steina stares at Richard, who has his arms folded, and refuses to drop his disdainful expression.

  “Obviously I won't be able to go through the roof, so if you do demand too much, I simply won't trade with you.” He tosses his head in a bitchy way.

  I snort at this, before regaining my composure. “They're tough. Valkyries are more than a match for most shifters, and the Scandinavian bears have a good reputation.”

  “Whatever.” Richard doesn't want to be here. I'm honestly glad for Mads and Steina. They may be snakes, but they make good drinking companions. I plan to rip a few of them tonight, before they sink their teeth into the underworld.

  “Five million each. And double whatever offer we're given.” Steina smiles, enjoying her position of power. Richard only growls in response. Easy, Richard. We'll get her back. Whatever happens.

  What I've not told him is the last time I used Steina and Mads. When I was hunting for the group of people responsible for the systematic abuse and deaths of children. They were able to penetrate areas I could not, and they helped me to establish my businesses abroad to Europe, since they knew the customs and terrain better than me.

  In total, there must have been around fifteen abusers scattered through the states, interconnected to the same ring.

  We've ratted out and killed at least eleven. The twelfth was killed separately in Bulgaria – they were found as gray as stone. No one sure how exactly they died, but no one missed them, either. Apparently, they were trying to ship children and women in Turkey, taking advantage of the homeless and poor.

  Mads does anything that Steina wants, and Steina, despite being a crook and generally shifty piece of shit, does have a particular streak of morality. Kind of like me.

  I found the thirteenth not so long ago. Now there's just two more. Two more, and it'll finally be over.

  Her abusers will be in hell.

  And as for Emma's abuser...

  Crack. The pen I'm holding in my hand splinters, like glass, and I notice everyone's looking at me.

  “What?” I say.

  “You alright there, mate?” Mads fields the question, clearly a little concerned.

  “Is this case connected at all with the other ones we've done for you?” Steina asks, in that irritating, understanding way. I hate her knowing smile in that moment, but keep my emotions tamped down.

  “No. Though maybe I will require your help after this is sorted out. Emma and this stupid senator's daughter case. Though I'm not sure if that should be allowed to unravel.”

  “Humans will be favorable to us if we snatch her from Janus,” Richard says, tired. “If we leave it to fester, it'll only get worse. I understand the sentiment behind it, but with Tomas's recovery, the human agents are no doubt uncovering the connection between him and Lisa. And we're going to look pretty fucking bad if it's shown we're hedging our knowledge.”r />
  He's right. One way or another, it's out of our hands. Seems a lot of things are spiraling out of our control nowadays. Fucking hell. “Alright. Whatever. Full steam ahead on this shit, then.”

  “Americans are always so incompetent, aren't they?” Steina offers a rather tight smile, and Mads gives a rumbling laugh, slapping his stomach.

  “We're the rich ones, though, so guess we're not that incompetent.” I smile back at them.

  They nod, and after a few pointed instructions from me, head right on the path to Janus.

  “I hope you're right about them,” Richard says, voice tinged with doubt. He's still as nervous as he was in his fancy building, and I resist the urge to touchdown on his shoulder, in a kindly gesture.

  I used to do that with her. And he's about as far away from her as possible. I do it with Emma.

  It's not the same, but there's something about her worth keeping around. Worth enough for idiots like me and Richard to help her. Plus, it's kind of our fault she's in this mess.

  The last two members of the circle of hell can wait a little bit longer, clinging to their pathetic lives.

  * * *

  Richard, for once, is completely astonished by the news that's dropped. He's stiff as a board, and his mouth is open, with the beginnings of a smile behind it, though not quite there. I doubt I'm much better off in the expression department. Feel like pinching myself, just to make sure I haven't misheard what Mads has just told me. It's not April the first, at least.

  “Dead as a damn doornail.” Mads folds his impressive arms, height towering above the rest of us. Definitely one of those people you call “bear daddies.” Wonder what Emma would think of him. “And get this. They found him, all shriveled out and gray in color. Just like that case in Romania.”

  “Romania?” Richard looks between us, expression sharp, the savage delight finally dropping from his face. “What's this about?”

  Mads raises an eyebrow. Steina's off elsewhere, investigating elsewhere upon the matter. “He knows? You want to fill in details or not?”

  Fuck. Well, I can mention my connection. Not my reason. “Yeah, I'll say. I hired these guys some time back to bust a sex trafficking ring that was giving me a serious headache. Child trafficking. Bad reputation, you know, awful business.”

  The councilman's lip curls in disgust and contempt. “Can't disagree on that. I do seem to remember your brand of vigilante justice.”

  Given that was how you found me in the first place, I didn't add. He's not getting any more than that. But even approaching close... it sends a horrible shiver in my soul. The kind that makes me feel as if I'm surrounded by dark, cold waters. The kind that can keep you trapped beneath forever if spent too long there.

  I'm all about surface bobbing nowadays.

  “I didn't realize you invested that much time into the trade,” Richard says, and he seems puzzled and impressed at the same time. “Seems like you have a real personal vendetta for these people.”

  Can't quite tell what sort of expression he has now, let along what he's thinking. But I flip him the bird, then turn back to Mads.

  “Who the fuck would kill Janus, though? He's difficult as hell to deal with. Has all these bunkers and security locations, about ten separate arenas going on at once – he has an empire.”

  “He's got people who can take over from him?” Richard's voice is heightened. I can almost imagine now what he's thinking, if it in any way echoes my own thoughts. Will Janus's empire collapse?

  Sadly, it's unlikely. “Couple of sons, a daughter. And probably some more sprogs I don't know about, since he wasn't really about keeping it in his pants. Big alpha like him, has to have them all.”

  “What's this about gray skin?” Richard presses, clearly not planning to let go of that idea. Mads takes one small step forwards.

  “Guy was found dead. Victor Bognakov. One of our targets, killed by someone else. We think a type of shifter that's found in the Middle East, probably some snake one.”

  “Ah, the Falaks,” Richard says, now surprising the both of us. “My father's talked about them. I thought I recognized the gray skin thing.”

  “You know about this?” I gape at him. I've not exactly spent much time hanging around that region, nor have I found it necessary to know about them.

  “My father's ancient. He's met a few shifters in his time. The Falaks are a type of serpent. Their full form is like a huge serpent that's supposed to live underground – in their mythology, they're supposed to appear at the end of the world and devour everything. And they're incredibly venomous. To the point where you don't even need to be pierced to die. Father said, uh, one drop of poison, anywhere on the skin, and you're bound for the other side.”

  “Huh.” I suck on this for a moment. Killed by a serpent type shifter. Here in America, if that killings any indication. Or an assassination using their poison? “Don't suppose you or Steina came across anyone like that?” I direct the question to Mads, who shrugs.

  “Maybe I've met one. Couldn't tell you, mate. Not like we can know what they are unless they shift or have tattoos and shit.”

  There's one problem, however. If Janus is dead, killed by a flick of poison – then where is Emma? And where's that elusive senator's daughter, who we thought entrenched with Janus?

  Looks like it's going to all disappear into smoke again. All our efforts, and those women will be torn apart instead with the squabbling of whoever succeeds Janus in his grimy underworld. Richard likely is processing this as well, and the mood lowers significantly.

  “We're never going to find them at this rate,” Richard whispers, rubbing behind his ear in an irritated fashion, hard enough to uproot hairs. “Whose to say they won't be killed by whoever comes?”

  “Let's just assume they're alive for now,” I say, even though my heart pounds strangely in my chest.

  We're interrupted by a tentative knock on the door. “Come in,” I say, and Richard twitches, as if he wants to hide himself from prying eyes, but keeps himself still at the last moment, retaining some of his dignity.

  “Tarren.” It's Elisa from the bar. “You got a letter.” She wafts a cream envelope in her red painted nails, and I snatch it from her, thanking for the effort. She smiles with interest at Mads in particular, regards Richard with mild surprise, then leaves.

  Dear Tarren Vale, I read.

  You may not have heard of me, but I sure have heard of you. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm known as Carla Magdy, and I'm a big fan of you! I tend to be big on ladies rights, and it looks like you've found the right way to this lady's heart.

  Enough of the niceties. I'm hosting a rather big Hunt. The biggest, most expensive of its kind, endorsed by all sorts of people! Eight immunes to fight a prisoner. And I bet you'll enjoy this prisoner. His name is Darius Karhold.

  I hiss at the name, mouth tightening, breaths coming out in an expansive, aggressive way.

  “Tarren?” Richard's voice comes from what feels like a long distance away. I shake my head like a disturbed horse, and keep reading.

  He was with someone else, a black haired brute with a cross on his cheek, who didn't live to see the next day.

  Fucking hell. She killed... she killed Johnson?

  And given the kind of business Mr. Karhold worked in, I was most happy to put him as my next Hunt victim.

  Do join, will you? Bet you'll love the spectacle.

  PS: Janus had two women with him. One of them was an immune, which helped complete my set! Thought I'd have to get an ordinary human.

  See you in two days,

  Carla Magdy.

  Ended with a teardrop splash.

  “Fucking piece of fuckery hell!” I shove the letter in Richard's chest, and he skims it, eyes growing rounder by the second.

  Not the only one who can't believe what he's reading, either. Richard passes it to Mads, whose beard almost trails across the bottom of the letter as he squints to examine it.

  “So, this Carla, she has Emma now. And an
other girl.”

  “Wanna bet it's the senator's daughter?” I say glumly. “Thinks she's doing us a favor, but sounds far from it.”

  “And she killed Janus Stronghand?”

  “Must have. How else would she have taken these women?” I frown. Brain whirring. Thinking about the implications. “So she has the poison that killed that man in Romania. And Janus.”

  “Yeah, let's not get too close to that spot on the envelope,” Mads said. “Ugh. I think I might need to trim my beard.”

  “It's probably fine when dried,” Richard says, now pacing up and down again in that manic thinking pose. He’s soon doing this with a cigarette in hand.

  Probably isn't good enough a reason for me to want to go anywhere near that kind of potent poison. Killing Janus like that? How did she even get away from him? Did she lace her hands with poison and just shake his?

  “I suppose it's obvious where we will go then, isn't it?”

  Richard nods at my answer. Glances at Mads. “If this all becomes over, I might hire these two Scandinavians full time. Just so I don't have them ever working against me.”

  Mads gives a big grin, shaking his shaggy mane of hair. “Don't count your chickens too soon.”

  Emma's alive. Or at least, alive when Carla wrote that letter. So quaint, going for hand written. Her writing is littered with cursive letters and serifs. Like she's stepped out of the 19th century. For all I know, she's been alive that long. And I don't fully understand her motivations. She seems to dislike child sex traffickers, like me. But she's taken Emma, most likely to be killed on a Hunt. With seven other immunes. That's insane. That's practically half a billion worth of goods down the drain for the sake of an expensive, extravagant Hunt. She must be a real hotshot, and I've never even heard of her.

  “May I have an invitation extended as well?” Richard says, a faint growl building in his gut. I have an instant image of the both of us, morphed into dragon form, ransacking the event.