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Consumed

Page 18

by Suzanne Wright


  “Honestly, I didn’t think it would bother her much.” I still wasn’t sure why it did. “But she took it badly. She’d call in the middle of the night, crying. She’d post crazy letters through my door. Hang around my house. Then the middle-of-the-night calls became bad; she’d call when her mother was at work, threatening to kill herself if I didn’t go to her.”

  Ava inhaled sharply and kissed my shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anymore.”

  I could have accepted that, left Ava to believe her suspicion was correct, and taken the easy way out. But that had never been my style. “Time and time again, I went round there, talked her down. She’d cry, ask why I didn’t love her. I tried talking to her mother, telling her that Sandra needed some fucking help, but she didn’t take it seriously.” In fact, her mother had insisted that I was exaggerating.

  “One night, Sandra called again. Said she thought there was someone in the house; that her mother was at work, and she wanted me to come over and check.” I swallowed hard, fisting my hand in Ava’s hair. “I didn’t believe her. I found out the next day that an intruder had raped and killed her.”

  Cursing under her breath, Ava curled her arm tight around my waist. “It’s a sad story, Salem. But you have to know that it’s not your fault.”

  My gaze whipped to hers, filled with disbelief. “I didn’t believe her, Ava. I hung up on her. Because of that, she’s dead.”

  “You don’t know that you could have stopped it, Salem.” There was an understanding in Ava’s voice that I hadn’t expected. There was also pure steel – she wasn’t budging on this. “Even if you had gone to her house, it could have been too late to help her.” Bracing her weight on her elbow, Ava propped her chin on her hand. “Did she call the police too that night?”

  “Yeah. After she called me.”

  “If they didn’t get there on time, why would you believe that you could have?”

  I knew there was a bitter curve to my mouth. “She lived at the corner of my street. It was a long street, sure, but it still wouldn’t have taken me more than a minute to get there.” But I hadn’t bothered my ass to check. I’d dismissed Sandra’s fear and gone back to bed.

  “It’s still not your fault,” Ava maintained, still as fiercely adamant as before. “The blame belongs to the killer. Any ounce of responsibility you attempt to claim for his actions absolves him a little of what he did.”

  Not having thought of it that way before, it took me a minute to respond. “I still could have stopped it.”

  “Or you could have been killed too. Have you thought of that?”

  No, I hadn’t. And now I found myself staring curiously at Ava. The last thing I’d expected from her was this. Not only had a young girl gone through a horribly traumatic experience, she’d been murdered. That would undoubtedly sicken Ava. I could have stopped those things from happening, and I hadn’t. Yet, there was no horror or judgement on her face.

  She was infuriated. Infuriated because I didn’t see things her way.

  Just in case she wasn’t getting the point…“A young girl died that night. Just like my mother and stepdad did all those years later. That’s three people I didn’t protect.”

  She slapped my chest. “Why do you insist on torturing yourself for things you had no control over?” Now she was seriously pissed at me. “You didn’t light that fire. You didn’t break into that girl’s house, assault and kill her. None of those people died at your hands. Shitty things happen every fucking day, and you can’t shoulder the weight of those things. You just can’t. I won’t let you.”

  A touch of amusement slithered through me. “You won’t let me?”

  “No. I refuse to let you torture yourself. Give yourself a fucking break.” She sighed. “No wonder you don’t connect with people. You basically withdrew from life. For you, connecting with people meant losing them. I can even understand why Gina suited you. She was never going to want you to love her, never going to claim she loved you. She was too wrapped up in herself. And you were sure you’d never come to care for someone like her, so it wouldn’t matter if you lost her. That was why you stayed with her. How cowardly of you,” she teased.

  She was teasing me? This female was baffling at times. I toyed with the chocolate-brown strands dangling around her face. “You amaze me. You cling to the good, let it outweigh the bad. You accept people for who they are.” Probably because she knew what it was like to be rejected for being nothing other than herself. “And you accept me, despite everything.” She wasn’t judging me, wasn’t pulling away. I dragged her on top of me and kissed her hard. “You’re a surprise, Ava Sanchez. And you’re mine.”

  “Yours.”

  “There’s something you need to understand. If this had been too much for you to accept, I’d have respected that and left you alone.” Maybe. Probably not. “But you chose to stay, which means you just sealed your own fate. I won’t let you go.” It came out sounding like a warning of danger. Maybe it was.

  She just smiled. “No, you won’t. And I won’t let you go either. Deal with it, big guy, because I’m here for good. And so are my cushions.”

  No one else on the planet could have made me want to smile right then, but she somehow managed it. “Give me your mouth. I want you again.”

  She released a long-suffering sigh. “Oh, all right.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  (Ava)

  Thanks to Salem’s rigorous round of sex, which lasted a few hours, I was late for movie night. As I needed to first pick up some bottles of red wine-flavoured NSTs, Salem was just about to escort me to the store when we found Sam and Jared outside our apartment building.

  She was staring at her mate, looking fierce and ready to burn shit down. “Where did he put the bastard?”

  Head cocked slightly, Jared held up a finger. I realised he was conversing telepathically with someone.

  Salem arched a questioning ‘Is everything okay?’ brow at Sam.

  “Evan managed to track down one of the two remaining suppliers – the bloke’s alive.”

  “He’s in a containment cell,” Jared told Sam.

  “Then let’s get going. Sorry, Ava, but I’m giving movie night a miss. There’s no way I’ll be able to relax with the girls when I know I’m so close to getting some answers.”

  I sighed. “I don’t blame you. To be honest, I’m feeling the same.”

  “Fancy coming along, then?”

  My smile probably took over my face. “Oh yeah. Watching you at work is better than any movie. Or are you using Ryder to get your answers?”

  “I’d rather not call on him. He’s exhausted with all the work he’s been doing; it’s causing his control over his bloodlust to waver.”

  “This bastard isn’t worth making it worse for Ryder,” interjected Jared, “he needs a rest.”

  “Besides, considering all the charges that lay at our captive’s feet and considering what went on in that brothel, I think he deserves a little pain.”

  Maybe it was wrong to be in full agreement with that, but I was. “Shall I contact the other girls or the rest of the squad?”

  “No,” replied Sam. “Let them all have some time to wind down. They need it.”

  Jared looked at his mate. “Ready to go?” At her nod, he then teleported us all to the prison beneath the mansion. Inside was a row of containment cells that were constructed of unbreakable glass. A short distance away was Evan and one of the prison guards, Alec. We headed straight for them and tracked their gazes to a Mexican-looking Keja who was bound to a metal chair in one of the cells.

  Jared patted his twin on the back in a ‘well done’ gesture before turning a dark glare on the Keja.

  Evan handed a sheet of paper to Sam that had a photograph attached. I was guessing it was the personal profile of this particular supplier that had been compiled by The Hollow’s researchers. He then arched a brow at Sam. “I take it you don’t need me for this?”

  She shook her head. “You’ve done well a
nd you must be knackered. Go rest.” Once Evan and Alec were gone, she turned to Jared. “Ready?”

  “Definitely.” He fitted his hand into one of the two imprints that were situated on the door of the cell – one imprint was for him, and the other was for Sam. The door made a hissing sound as it unlocked. Jared opened it wide, letting Sam, Salem, and I enter before walking inside.

  Sam consulted the sheet of paper in her hand. “Vinnie G, isn’t it? Seventy-three years old, human and vampire years combined. Originally from Mexico. Your vampiric gift: an ability to immobilize things. Favourite pastime: kidnapping innocent people and selling them like frozen goods with three of your best mates. Occupation: total and utter prick.” She looked up at him. “Did I miss anything?” He didn’t say a word.

  I leaned into Salem, who had his arms folded across his chest. “Not very talkative, is he?”

  Sam sighed. “At least he’s not faking respect. It’s such a nice change.”

  Jared stepped forward. “Okay, here’s the situation, Vinnie. We know that you dabble in human and preternatural trafficking. We have testimonies to that effect from the survivors and the keeper of a brothel that was recently shut down. There is no escaping the fate that lies ahead of you. It’s no secret that my mate and I are a little rough when it comes to punishments. We believe in making unforgettable statements that certain things won’t be tolerated. Trafficking is one of them. So I’m guessing you know you’re in for a world of pain.”

  As if to prove that, Sam conjured her silvery-blue energy whip, and threaded it through her fingers. Vinnie’s eyes followed the movement and his entire body stiffened, bracing itself for the pain.

  Jared smiled at him. “But there’s good news. You see, we have some questions. If you answer them truthfully, we’ll give you a swift execution – which is much more than you deserve. If you don’t…well, things are going to go downhill from here for you.”

  Vinnie still didn’t speak, but his eyes darted repeatedly from the whip to Salem…as if sensing the danger he presented, and expecting him to lunge at Vinnie any second. Salem’s stillness was in fact scary. Not to mention the way his glare was locked on Vinnie with lethal intent.

  “Not interested in our offer?” Sam smiled brightly. “Fabulous. That means I get to play.”

  I clapped a little. “This is going to be sweet.”

  “Actually, Ava, why don’t you join me? I said I’d give you some pointers for the process of interrogation. No time like the present. And we’re in no rush.” Sam looked at Jared. “You don’t mind sitting out for a while, do you?”

  Jared frowned. “Just for the first hour. I like to play too.” He backed off, planting himself next to Salem.

  I knew that this was all psychological warfare, but I still happily skipped forward; adopting my airhead act, since it tended to make people underestimate me.

  “Now, Ava, it’s important that the captive is scared. Does he look scared to you?”

  I studied his expression. “Not a lot. Which is kind of stupid. Maybe he’s just dense.”

  “Even dense people have a sense of self-preservation.”

  “True enough.”

  “So, like I said, we need to be sure he’s scared.” With that practical tone, she could have been reciting the ingredients of a cake recipe. “That’s where my whip comes in handy.” She cracked it at Vinnie, splitting open his bottom lip and startling a guttural groan from him. “Or my energy balls.” Moulding her whip into a ball, she flung it at Vinnie’s abdomen; he would have keeled over if a rope wasn’t wrapped around his middle, pinning him in place. “Sometimes, I even burn them for a little while.” Flames sprouted from one palm and engulfed Vinnie’s shoes. “Depends what mood I’m in, really.” A splash of water from Sam’s other palm killed the fire.

  Vinnie sagged, but he hardly made a sound – clearly unwilling to give us the satisfaction of hearing him cry out. “Ooh, he’s a quiet one. How awesome. Screamers are too much to take.”

  “Hard on the ears,” agreed Sam. “Right, your turn. Any special skills?”

  I turned to fully face her, as if Vinnie’s presence was of no consequence and Sam and I were having a gossiping session. “Well, when I used to work for my brother, he asked me to help with some of his interrogations. He’s not squeamish, but he hates the sound of bones cracking. I can’t say that’s ever bothered me. So I always stepped in.”

  “Do you go for the fingers?”

  “No, not painful enough. I go for the thigh – breaking the femur bone is supposed to be fucking agonising. The ankles too, since the ligaments tear at the same time; that’s bad. The heel bone is a good one too. Hey, did you know that a calcaneal fracture is also called ‘Don Juan fracture’?” I shook my head. “I never did find out why. Anyway, I used to go for the cheekbone because I’m told that’s real freaking painful. But they always used to pass out from that, which was really annoying, so I –”

  “Just get it over with!” Vinnie shouted, suddenly looking extremely nervous.

  “Ooh, it talks.”

  “That’s handy,” said Sam, “because we have some questions for him.”

  He snickered. “You can’t seriously think I’ll talk. It will gain me nothing.”

  “Wrong,” interrupted Jared, “it will gain you a swift execution. Trust me when I say that if you turn down that offer, you’ll wish you hadn’t. But it will be too late by then. It’s kind of hard to stop my mate when she’s fully at work. And I’d rather not watch Ava sulk if she has to back off.”

  “I won’t give up the others!”

  “We don’t need you to. We already found two of them. They were both dead by the time we got to them, though – demon casualties, apparently.” Jared shrugged when Vinnie gawked. “Yeah, kidnapping a demon wasn’t the brightest idea. The fourth of your little group will soon be found by either us or the demons, depending on who gets there first.”

  “I do hope it’s us.” Sam puffed. “The demons are spoiling my fun.”

  I bounced on the spot. “Back to this round of fun…he looks a little uneasy now. Is that enough?”

  “It’ll do. So, you say breaking bones is your preferred method of torture?”

  “Yeah. I’m not bad with a knife. I just find slicing and dicing a little slow and messy. And I don’t want my new dress to get stained. It wasn’t cheap, but I got a good deal on it.”

  “For Christ’s sake, will you just be done with it!” bellowed Vinnie.

  Sam stared at him, confused. “Well, no. I would have done if you’d agreed to truthfully answer our questions, but you didn’t. So I figure we’ll play with you for a little while and then tomorrow night I’ll have one of my vampires scan your mind.” She turned back to me and waved a hand toward Vinnie. “Take the floor.”

  “Yay!” I cocked my head at Vinnie, giving him a winning smile. “This is really going to hurt. Hope for your sake you have a masochistic streak.”

  “You’re just a Sventé. You can’t hurt me. You won’t.” But he didn’t sound so confident of that.

  “The last person who said that to me sobbed like a baby when I rammed his broken index finger up his rectum. Your finger is a similar size. But I’m guessing that if you touch me with any of your fingers, your gift will immobilise me. So I’ll skip that.”

  “You going straight for the femur?” asked Sam.

  “No, I like to start with something simple. Something that doesn’t cause too much pain. I always find when it comes to breaking bones that it’s best to take it easy at first and let the pain escalate.” I grabbed his balled-up hand and abruptly wrenched it backwards. The sharp crack mingled with a throaty sound of pain that slipped between his grinding teeth.

  Sam took a good look at the break. “That was quick and clean.”

  I smiled impishly. “It’s not my first time.”

  “What next? The other wrist?”

  “Nah. I like to mix it up a little or it gets tedious.” Squatting, I gripped his ankle. “Shame we don�
�t have a hammer or we could have done a Kathy Bates on him. No matter. I’ll just hit the joint hard with my fist – it’ll have the same effect.” I did just that, and again he did his best to muffle his cry of agony as his foot snapped to the side at an unnatural angle.

  Inwardly, I winced. Causing pain wasn’t truly something I enjoyed doing. But while the images of what I’d found in the attic of that brothel – of the awful state the female demon had been in – was flashing in my mind, I found that I couldn’t be sorry for what I was doing. He deserved so much worse.

  “Sounds like the bones in his wrist are reknitting.”

  I just shrugged, turning my attention to his other ankle.

  “You’re not going to do anything about it?”

  “No. I find that it’s best, and more entertaining, to let their injuries fully heal and then start all over again after I’ve –”

  “What do you want to know?”

  Sam tilted her head at Vinnie. “You’re reconsidering our offer?”

  “Just keep her away from me!” He jerked his chin at me.

  I gasped, but inside I was smiling in satisfaction. “How rude.”

  (Salem)

  I never thought I’d say this, but my little Ava could be seriously scary. She wasn’t fierce and threatening in her approach like Jared. Nor was she direct and insulting in her approach like Sam. In fact, Ava barely addressed the prisoner at all. She didn’t look at him like he was a person. There was no hate, no rage, and no desperation for vengeance in her eyes. She was indifferent to and dismissive of Vinnie and his pain – breaking his bones while smiling merrily and chatting with Sam.

  Instead of being sharp, offensive, and confrontational, she came across as empty-headed, dippy, and flip; completely uninterested in the prisoner as anything other than a form of entertainment. That made her confusing, unpredictable, and seemingly insane. There was no way of bracing yourself for what came next with someone like that, because there was no way of knowing what they would do next.

 

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