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“What the fuck?” He draws a gun from the small of his back and points it at me. “I don’t care if he wants you alive. You’ll pay for that.”
I whistle and step back. He frowns in confusion just before a blur shoots past me.
Freedom lunges forward, burying her teeth in the man’s thigh. He screams, trying to kick her off. I grab his fallen gun with a laugh and point it at him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
He freezes, Freedom still gnawing on him.
“Here.” I tap my leg. She releases him and pads over to me, licking her blood-covered fangs. “We need him alive for now.”
“What the fuck?” he bellows, his face pale as he covers his mauled thigh. “Why the fuck do you have a tiger? What the fuck? I never should have gotten involved!” He crawls backwards until his back hits one of the crates they were sitting on. Blood coats the grass below him, looking like spilled oil in the firelight.
I let the gun hang loosely at my side as I cock my head, watching him.
“You’re right. You shouldn’t have gotten involved, but you did, and now you’re going to die.” Crouching down, I grin at him as he shudders, trying unsuccessfully to staunch the bleeding. “I’m a doctor’s wife, you see. That wound, it’s bad. You’re going to bleed out in under three minutes. Now, I can either make your death faster or make it hurt a lot more. Your choice.”
“Help me,” he snaps.
He might not have a working leg, but he has the audacity of a man, that’s for sure.
Freedom growls at my side, and he flinches.
Moving closer, I rub my fingers through his blood before dancing them up his leg, and when I meet his wide eyes, I dig them into the wound, pushing into the meat of his thigh as he screams in agony.
“I don’t need your body, just your mouth, so tell me what I want. Where is he? Where is Roger?” I purr, lifting my fingers free and sucking on them, tasting his blood. “I can taste your fear.”
He starts to cry with big, heaving sobs. “Oh god, please?—”
“God can’t help you now,” I retort. “Only I can. You have three seconds or I’m going to let Freedom play with you again.” She stands beside me, her mouth gaping in warning, and he shrinks back as I laugh.
“One.”
“Please,” he rasps, holding his hand out as if to fend me off.
“Two,” I sing. “Three?—”
“Okay, okay! Fuck, fuck him, fuck you. He’s staying at the old farmhouse not far from here, the only building around, okay? Now get that thing away from me.”
Patting his injury, I grin as he cries out. “Good boy. She’s not the one you should fear though. It’s me.” Pulling one of my blades out, I grin as I turn it, letting it catch the light.
“Wait, please, I helped you?—”
“You did, which is why I’ll make it quick. Well, quicker.” I plunge the knife into his throat as I stare into his terrified eyes, and then I pull it free. His blood squirts across me as I watch him die. It’s not as fast as you’d expect, and when he finally slumps to the side, blood still pumping steadily from his neck, I wipe my blade on his pants and stand.
Whistling a merry tune, I tap my thigh, and Freedom falls into step beside me as we prowl away from the fire and the bodies.
I’m coming for you, dear husband. I hope you’re ready.
Chapter
Fifty-Four
We stop the wagon we borrowed from the cirque right next to Diamond’s Dodge. I climb out, searching the horizon for my girl and Freedom.
When she didn’t come back from Hilda’s, I went to find her and quickly realized the truth—she went after Roger. I would have done the same. We all would have.
He hurt one of us, and she’s blaming herself.
She shouldn’t be alone. She should know by now that we go where she goes.
