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Gripping the back of her neck, I drag her closer, slamming my lips to hers in a brutal kiss until I taste blood. I pull back and grin at her as I tug her mask down, and then I adjust my own. “Let’s.”
Heading to the gate, I leap up and catch the edge of the iron, flipping over so I land on my feet on the other side. I see Spade and Club doing the same. Our girl simply shakes her head.
“Not a chance,” she mutters as she heads our way and pushes the gate open. It wasn’t even locked. Diamond follows her with a chuckle. “Show-offs,” she adds as she reaches our side.
The storm covers our entrance and the noise of our footsteps, so there’s no point in being quiet. We simply head right to the front door. Unlike the gate, it’s locked, which is hardly surprising. Something tells me it’s more to keep someone in, though, than it’s meant to keep anyone out. Timing it with the next roll of thunder, I slam my boot into the wide, black double door. The handle snaps with a loud bang, and it blows inwards. The feeling of evil expands tenfold, nearly choking me.
Stepping inside with a happy hum, I look around the huge orphanage. The entryway is clearly for visitors, with flowers and chairs perfectly set out before two staircases leading up. It’s an illusion, a pretty picture meant for well-off patrons looking to purchase a child. No doubt there are only special children they get to see if they come. There are always special children who are favorites. I was never one of those.
Water sluices from our bodies, hitting the perfectly polished wooden floor as we look at the walls. The pitter-patter of the rain hitting the windows covers our booted feet as we dismiss the illusion and head deeper into the labyrinth of the house. Diamond points upstairs, and I nod as he heads up the winding staircase with Spade in tow.
Club follows Ember and me down the corridor past the stairs. Back here, it changes completely, the illusion falling away. Behind a wooden door is a metal gate that’s locked from the outside. We share a look before I kneel and quickly pick the heavy metal padlock and open the door. As soon as we step through, we’re in a long, dark corridor. Snoring reaches my ears, and my eyes swing to the right to see a warden or a guard stretched out on a sofa. I jerk my head at Club, and he nods, heading in there to stand guard while I follow Ember down the hallway.
On each side are metal doors with sliding hatches, something we’d see in a prison, not an orphanage. She stops at one randomly and slides it open before leaning down to peer inside. She gasps, the sound harsh to my ears, before she hurries to the next and then the next, her anger growing with each reveal. Frowning, I peer through one, and my heart skips a beat at the ten or so kids clustered in the back of the tiny room. Their dirty, tear-stained faces turn toward me with terror, as they don’t know if I’m there to harm them or not. The smell coming from the room makes my eyes water. There’s nothing in there—no bed or toilet—only a dirty concrete floor.
The urge to retch is strong, not because of the smell but because of how thin, dirty, and beaten they are. Some of them have bruises, while others have bleeding wounds. They flinch at the light I let in, like they haven’t seen it in too long.
White-hot fury fills me. I can barely stop myself from bursting.
Stepping back slowly so as not to scare them, I storm over to Ember, who’s halfway down the corridor, her face stricken with both grief and disbelief. Being faced with evil is one thing, but being faced with evil directed at children is another. I understand. Children and animals are innocent. Anyone who preys upon them isn’t worth the dirt on the bottom of my boot.
She turns to me, fury and pain in her gaze. “Kids,” she rasps. “These cells are all filled with starving, abused kids.”
“Hey! Who the hell are you?” comes a loud, jarring voice. We both turn to see a hulking man standing at the end of the corridor, keys hanging from his waist along with a baton and a whip. He has dark, cruel eyes. “Who the hell are you, and how did you get in here?” he repeats, uncertain when he catches sight of our masks.
Ember’s eyes turn to me, just as dark as the man’s. There will be no mercy from her this evening. “Kill him and make it hurt,” she commands.
“With pleasure.” I smirk. Turning to the man, I tilt my head as I watch him. “Will you scream, little piggy?” I call as I stalk toward him. He steps back, looking from Ember to me, confused and afraid. “Oink, oink.” I giggle as I leap, hitting the wall on the left and flipping. I roll as soon as I hit the floor and come up behind him. He doesn’t even have time to react.
Sliding close to his back, I grin as I blow on his ear. “Boo.”
He jumps and whirls around, fumbling with his baton as I laugh. I grab his hand before he can pull it. Even if was able to get it out, a baton is hardly the worst I’ve been hit with. Nothing hurts like a hot fire poker. Nothing. I sweep my leg out beneath his, and he tumbles to the floor. His face turns red as he struggles to get back up, but I pounce, crouching above him.
“Oink for me,” I order.
“I’ll kill you!” he roars, reaching for his whip. I laugh and slide a knife from my side, the sound lost in the rumble of thunder. I grab his meaty hand and hold it down before I plunge the blade in hard, pinning it to the floor as he bellows. His eyes bulge as he struggles below me, his blood pooling under his palm. “Red blood, red as stone, red blood on the bone,” I sing as I pull another blade. “Where to next, piggy? Should we carve off some fat?”
“You’re insane,” he wheezes, tears springing into his eyes.
“You have no idea, little piggy.” I giggle as I drag the blade across his fat belly and slice. He screams, but I keep going, spraying myself and the walls with blood. I feel it dripping down my mask as he fights, his hand tearing more with each struggle.
Lifting the blade, I inspect my handiwork before grinning up at Ember. I expect to see terror in her eyes, but if anything, she seems pleased. It seems our girl is embracing who she truly is. The insanity and darkness that lives within us now lives in her. The demons we let out to play dance like shadows on her shoulders.
“Little piggy, little piggy,” I taunt as I drag the blade up and press it against his neck as he shakes his head, sobbing. “Bye-bye, piggy.” I stab it down, slicing through his artery, wanting him to stop making sounds, stop hurting children, and die.
I watch the blood pool below him. Pressing my hand into the warm liquid, I drag it down my mask and then stand, turning to the wall and writing, “Tell me your nightmares.”
I just finish the last letter when I hear footsteps.
I look up with a snarl as another guard lumbers into the corridor, drawn by the noise the thunder couldn’t cover. This one is faster, however, and he yanks out his whip, letting it soar through the air. I turn cold as it hits Ember, catching her by surprise. She smashes into the wall, a scream of pain echoing behind her mask, and I’m on my feet before I’m conscious of it. I’m not fast enough, and it flies through the air again, but it doesn’t hit its mark. This time, her hand snaps out and wraps around the end of the whip. Seemingly as shocked as I am, she holds on as it cuts into her hand with a strength I never expected. Her blood hits the floor like a declaration, and her eyes turn to me as if she’s ensuring I’m okay. Then, with a wicked grin, she winds the end around her hand and tugs, pulling the guard closer.
He snarls, fighting her, and she skids across the floor, but she holds the end firmly. When I reach her side, she grabs me. I help her hoist the end of the whip over my shoulder and then plunge to the floor in a swift movement he can’t prepare for. He goes flying, hitting the floor before his body is dragged toward us. Releasing the whip, she steps around me, grabbing a blade from my side as she goes. Before he can get to his feet, she throws it. It embeds in his chest—not deep enough to kill but enough to slow him down. He climbs to his feet using the wall despite the wound. Snarling, he keeps his eyes locked on her, and that’s all it takes to seal his fate. With a wink at her, I run at him and turn in the air, slamming my boot into the knife in his chest until it sinks to the hilt.
He falls to the floor, dying slowly as I look at my girl once more, my chest heaving.
We both turn when there’s a scream and see the once sleeping guard come sailing from the room, hitting the opposite wall. The sound of his neck snapping is loud. Club wanders from the room, looking between us and the bodies.
“He woke up,” is all he says, making me laugh, but then my eyes land on Ember again and the bloody cut on her arm.
