by Montana Ash
“You aren’t welcome here anymore. Remove yourselves before I have you forcibly ejected,” he barked at the pair.
Jinx’s bi-coloured eyes flashed in challenge, “I dare you to try.”
Gage placed a restraining hand on her arm as she took an angry step forward. “What happened?” the man asked, sounding hostile as hell but with a more even tone than the spitfire next to him.
“I learned the truth,” he stated simply, daring them with his eyes to come to Sabre’s defence. If they tried, he would rip their words apart. Sabre had confessed. He had heard it with his own ears. Had seen the heart wrenching truth of it in her eyes. There was nothing they could say that would save her.
“Which one?” Gage asked, dark eyes staring directly into bright, yellow ones.
“Which one? How many do you think there are?” Brax asked, rhetorically. “There is only one truth. And that is that Sabre was the assassin who killed Mikhail!” his response ended on a roar.
Gage looked unimpressed and Jinx simply looked even more pissed. “You’re wrong, Your Majesty. There happen to be many truths. Sabre –”
Brax cut him off. The sound of Sabre’s name on his lips enough to make his stomach revolt, “Were you complicit in her crimes?”
The pair looked at each other, Gage raising an eyebrow at Jinx, who smirked, “Complicit? As in, did we know she was the one to assassinate your brother? Yeah. We knew.”
“Then you both shall be punished as well. Murder of a royal is an automatic death sentence,” he intoned, ruthlessly pushing down the part of him that had come to like the pair, especially the young Jinx. The hate and thirst for vengeance that had plagued him for over a year, but which had all but dissipated in the weeks of knowing – and loving – Sabre, was swiftly returning. He felt like a volcano ready to erupt. Draven, obviously sensing his rage, bravely placed a calming hand to his arm. Brax didn’t bother to shake it off as even the angel’s powers of comfort couldn’t hold a candle to the storm raging within.
“Oh, get over yourself, Brax! You don’t know the whole story. Clearly you didn’t give Sabre a chance to explain,” Jinx fired back.
“Explain?! Explain?!” Brax all but roared, ignoring the flash of admiration when Jinx stood her ground, raising her chin like a little warrior – or a queen. “What is there to explain? She admitted she killed Mikhail.” Saying his name now hurt as much as it had the day he had found his brother dead.
Jinx nodded quickly, “She did. But –”
“There is no but!” Brax literally roared, and he felt claws pierce the tops of his fingers even as his fangs grew in his mouth. “She made a fool out of me! All this time, I had her looking into the threat against the throne. And it was right in front of me. It was her!”
“You haven’t acted like a moron before, now is not the time to start,” Jinx scolded, apparently unaffected by his beast. “Sabre is not the threat to the throne. Yes, she was hired to assassinate Mikhail. But she wasn’t the one who did the hiring. She also wasn’t the one who killed your father, or your uncles, or your little brother. That’s what you hired her to find out.”
Brax laughed, the sound a hollow parody of humour, “Semantics. Don’t get cute with words, Jinx. They will not save you.”
Jinx growled in frustration, making a move as if to step forward. Gage wisely put his arm out in front of her. “We’re not trying to save ourselves,” Gage offered. “We’re trying to save Sabre.”
“Oh, well then. That’s much fucking better,” Brax’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.
Gage ignored Brax’s derision, “One of our spies contacted us to tell us Sabre is being tortured by Carlisle as we speak.”
Brax couldn’t help his body’s visceral reaction to those words, even as his brain told it not to care – that the woman in question had murdered his brother and she deserved everything she got. “I don’t care.”
Jinx’s blue and green eyes gentled for the first time since she had arrived, “Yes, you do,” she said, gently. Then implored, “Think, Brax. Why would Carlisle want to torture Sabre? What could she possibly know that he would potentially kill his best asset for?”
“I don’t care,” Brax’s response was immediate. But it sounded less sure, even to his own ears. Thankfully, Draven chose to step forward and commandeer the conversation. Or the argument. Or whatever the hell the fucked-up situation was.
“Was he unaware she held the contract for the assassination of Mikhail? Was it a private contract?” Draven asked.
“It was indeed a private contract,” Gage confirmed. “But Carlisle still knew. He knows the names of every single heartbeat Sabre is tasked with stopping. Perhaps he wants to know who hired her, but that is doubtful. He’s already in on the conspiracy to take down the line of Cerberus. Sabre figured that out and already told you that. Why would he care who hired her to complete a task he agreed with? No, it must be something else. What exactly happened?” Gage urged.
It was on the tip of Brax’s tongue to tell them all to fuck off, but Draven stepped in front of him, forcing their eyes to meet. “Abraxis … my friend. You know my feelings for the woman and I would be more than satisfied to see her rot for her crimes. But … I know your feelings for her too. And for that reason ...” he turned back to Jinx and Gage, “I’m willing to listen.”
Brax felt his eyes itch, breath stalling in his throat. But he allowed neither the tears to fall nor the pained howl to escape his lips. Falling back into the chair behind him, he listened with a detached ear as Draven explained the day’s nightmarish events.
“Wait, who was this witness? And where is he now?” Gage demanded once the story had been told.
Draven sighed, “He was an elf. And he didn’t divulge his name. He must have slipped out in all the confusion when Sabre was being … evicted. We haven’t seen him since and have no way to contact him.”
Gage was frowning, “And you don’t find that a little odd? Why would a witness suddenly pop up now? And not just any witness, one who could clearly identify Sabre? It doesn’t make any sense.”
Jinx was nodding, “Unless that was the whole point. To identify Sabre. To get you to turn on her,” Jinx accused, glaring at Brax.
“Turn on her?” Brax was incredulous, “She killed my brother!”
Jinx dismissed his comment with a flick of her wrist. “Sabre never mentioned an elf,” she said to Gage. “A new player?”
Gage nodded, then considered her words, “Or perhaps a very old one.”
“What are you two talking about?!” Brax yelled, his fragile patience all but gone. He wanted to rage and rend and tear. He wanted to howl and cry and wallow. The two beings in front of him were denying him that.
“Don’t you get it? That ‘witness’” Jinx raised her fingers to make air quotes, “was a plant. Sent to discredit Sabre. No doubt because she was getting close to the truth. She’s been working round the clock to figure out who the culprit is. Ever since you hired her. And before that –” Jinx quickly shut up.
Brax narrowed his eyes, “And before that, what?”
Jinx pursed her lips but Gage gave her a nudge to her shoulder, “Sabre loves him,” the zombie said softly.
Jinx’s shoulders drooped, “Before then she had been aiding someone who wants to help. He goes by –”
“Hound,” Brax finished. “Santa’s secret little helper. Yes, I know. He’s made himself known to me a few times in the past. Sabre mentioned he was a source of hers.”
Jinx looked surprised, “She told you about him?”
Gage rolled his eyes, poking Jinx in the side with his finger, “Sabre loves him, remember?” He ploughed on before anyone could address those words, “It still doesn’t seem like enough for Carlisle to turn on Sabre now. She’s too valuable to him. Something else must have happened,” Gage pressed.
“Nothing,” Brax said, suddenly exhausted. He covered his face with his hands, “There’s nothing. Just like Sabre is to me.”
The silence dragged out for
a few tense, depressing moments before Draven cleared his throat, “There was one other thing. As she was being dragged away, Sabre yelled that the King still lived.”
Gage’s dark skin turned alabaster as all the blood drained from his face, “She said that? And that fake fucking witness heard?!” he yelled. “Shit, shit, fuck and damn! This is bad, this is bad. No wonder Carlisle wants to tear her apart for information.”
Brax stood up slowly, eyes intent but mind suspicious, “Why would her den master care about a careless statement thrown out in desperation to stop me killing her?”
“Duh!” Jinx snarked at him, turning her back and heading for the exit, “Maybe because it wasn’t an act of desperation.”
Brax growled, launching himself into the air and landing in a predatory crouch in front of the weretiger. He may have appreciated strong females but the bratty teen was beginning to piss him off in ways that had nothing to do with her association with Sabre. “I saw Mikhail with my own eyes. He had no heartbeat. He bled out. His heart was destroyed by that cross bolt. He was dead. Nothing you can say will change that.”
“Fine. It’s not my place to anyway. But aren’t you at least curious as to why Carlisle is so interested? Don’t you care at all that Sabre is likely getting torn apart as we speak? Because there is no way she would talk. Sabre is unbreakable.”
“I don’t care …” Brax’s fallback response sounded lame even to his own ears.
“Well, I care. Gage!” Jinx pushed past him, Gage coming to heel like a good little dog. “We’ve put a call out to assemble the troops but it’s going to take a few hours. What should we do in the meantime?” Jinx asked, eyes pleading.
What the hell were they talking about? “Wait, troops? What troops? Are you referring to my Horde?”
Jinx sneered at him, “Why would I be talking about your stupid demon army? I’m talking about Sabre’s friends.”
“Friends, plural? You make it sound as if there is more than one,” Draven tossed out.
Both Gage and Jinx looked scornfully at the angel. Gage shook his head, looking almost pitying, “You really have no idea. Both of you don’t. That’s Sabre’s fault. And she would be the first to admit that. Unfortunately, it was just one more cross she had to bear for the good of many.” Before Brax could question what Gage meant, the man continued on, “Yes, Sabre has friends. Although, she wouldn’t call them that. She likes to think she has none. And I suppose some wouldn’t call themselves that either. Most of them owe Sabre a debt. We took the prerogative of calling them all in.”
Draven and Brax exchanged a confused look, “Debts? What kind of debts could they possibly owe that they would be willing to storm the most notorious assassin den in Purgatory that is filled with brutal killers for?” Brax asked.
Gage’s black gaze was unwavering as he met Brax’s eyes, “Life debts. They all owe Sabre life debts.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“What has she said?”
Carlisle stormed into the room, acting all macho and aggressive and it was all Sabre could do not to roll her eyes and snort over the display. Mercy was right; Carlisle was very impatient. Usually, he was happy to leave Mercy to his work for at least a day before barging in and demanding answers. But Sabre calculated that it had only been around three hours – with only about twenty minutes of that time taken up with a little slap ‘n’ tickle. Not that Carlisle knew that of course. Sabre was sure she looked just as pathetic and broken as her owner was expecting. Mercy had done a great job smashing fingers but had forgone dislocating her shoulder in case she needed it for later. He had instead sliced a few cleverly-placed cuts on her neck and upper chest, as well as some burns to her arms and legs. They looked particularly nasty but Sabre knew they weren’t deep. They would heal in a matter of days.
“Nothing,” Mercy answered Carlisle.
Carlisle spun on him, “Nothing? What do you mean nothing?”
“She hasn’t said anything, sir. She’s been sitting there quiet the entire time. It’s like she’s a mute,” Mercy waggled his eyebrows behind Carlisle’s back as he lied through his pointy teeth. Sabre barely restrained herself from laughing. It would be decidedly inappropriate.
Carlisle rounded on Mercy abruptly, “Are you losing your touch? Perhaps you just aren’t trying hard enough.”
Mercy drew himself up, “I assure you. I haven’t lost my touch. I am all about pain and I assure you, that woman is in pain right now. She merely refuses to talk. She’s stubborn.”
“Stubborn!” Carlisle got right up into Sabre’s face and snarled, “Listen here, bitch! You’ll talk, even if I have to cut out your tongue.”
Sabre moved her head back in shock, cocking her head to the side and scrunching up her nose, she then said; “What the fuck? Really, Carlisle? That’s the best threat you can come up with? How the fuck am I supposed to talk if you cut out my tongue? You really are an idiot, aren’t you?” Her response earned her several punches to the face and gut. It knocked the wind out of her, but she still managed a chuckle, “Wanker,” she spat blood onto the floor.
Carlisle snarled, his pheromones leaving him in a rush, causing Mercy and Sabre to both groan – more in annoyance than in a sexual haze. “You won’t talk? That’s fine. I don’t need you to talk. I’m bringing in Touma.”
Sabre stilled at that. Touma was a satori – a being who could read minds. He was also a particularly nasty piece of work and had been hanging around Carlisle for years. Sabre had been forced to endure Touma’s unique brand of torture a few times in the past and wasn’t ashamed to say that she would rather have her fingernails plucked out than have someone invade the inner sanctity of her mind. Touma was also exceedingly expensive, Sabre knew. Carlisle really wanted what was in her head.
“What the hell is going on, Carlisle? Why do you care so much about a throw away comment I made in the heat of the moment?”
“Why? Because if it’s true, it could well ruin years of careful planning! That’s why!” Carlisle yelled in her face.
“Careful planning by you?” Sabre asked, wondering if Carlisle could be the mastermind behind the demise of the line of Cerberus. “Or your little elf friend?” And just who was that little fucker, anyway? Sabre wondered. Whoever he was, she was going to rip his pointy little ears out of his head and shove them fair up his butt when she caught up with him.
Carlisle’s eyes roved over Sabre’s face, but the man seemed to regain some of his control because he simply stepped back, saying nothing. A small beep from his phone had him grunting and striding from the room, “He’s here.”
Mercy made no move to close the door but quickly moved to her side where she was tied to the chair with wire bindings. “Don’t worry, I had Phaedra sound the bat signal a couple of hours ago. Your team will be here soon. You’ve dealt with Touma’s mind games before. You’ll be fine.”
Sabre summoned a smile, “I’m glad someone has faith in me.”
Mercy placed a beefy hand on her shoulder, giving it a warm and sincere squeeze. “Always,” he promised her.
Before she could say anything further, Carlisle sauntered back into the room, a small, slender man of Asian descent following behind him. The man looked innocuous enough but he could look you in the eyes and see into your head in seconds. It wasn’t the same type of ability as Draven’s empathic ones were. Sabre knew his were based on his ability and need to heal and they were a passive power. Touma’s on the other hand, were an active power – and painful.
“Hello, Sabre. Always a pleasure,” the satori murmured, dragging a chair in front of her and sitting down. “I’m going to dig around in your skull for a minute now.”
Touma spoke casually as if they were taking a stroll in the park and Sabre realised how annoying she must sound when she did the same thing whenever she tortured someone. Luckily, Sabre was now just as adept at blocking mental torture as she was blocking physical pain. With the amount of secrets crashing around in her head, it had been absolutely integral and she had w
orked damn hard to ensure nothing and no one was getting inside. That included the smarmy, Japanese man of myth in front of her.
Instead of tensing up when Touma put his hands on her head, Sabre relaxed. She found the happy place she was looking for in a nano-second, listening with a half-ear to Touma’s running commentary for Carlisle’s benefit.
“That’s it, almost there … just a little bit. Uh huh! She’s thinking of …” Touma abruptly shut his mouth.
“What? What is it?” Carlisle asked greedily.
Touma glared at Sabre, before clearing his throat, “She’s thinking of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man,” he admitted.
“Excuse me?” Carlisle’s voice was frigid.
“You know, like from Ghostbusters. At the end when they’re not supposed to think of anything but Ray can’t help himself and he thinks of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man? No? Well, anyway, then it comes to life and tries to kill everyone. I can understand why Ray thought of it. It just popped into my head too,” she assured Carlisle innocently. Her words were met by stunned silence. “I take it none of you have seen Ghostbusters? I mean, I know it’s a human movie from the other middle realm but come on! It was practically a documentary!”
Carlisle popped her in the eye with a fist, causing Sabre to grunt – but not succeeding in wiping the smug look off her face. “Try again!” he demanded.
Touma clenched his jaw, pressing bony fingers into Sabre’s temples and closing his eyes. The only sound in the room for several minutes were the harsh, impatient breaths of Carlisle. Presently, a strangled noise came from Touma’s throat.
“Now what?” Carlisle demanded.
Touma dropped his hands and cleared his throat, looking decidedly uncomfortable as he gazed at Carlisle and Mercy, “Now she is thinking of gay porn.” Touma’s eyed her sideways, “Lots of gay porn.”
Mercy choked on a laugh and Sabre couldn’t hold herself back anymore, laughing uproariously. It took several blows with a bat for her to even realise Carlisle had lost control of his flimsy patience and was attempting to beat the shit out of her. “What’s the matter? Gay porn is hot. Hotter than hetero porn,” Sabre pointed out. And it was. Mercy’s quick nod told her the pain demon was on her side.