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He steps through, and I follow behind him. “Be careful, Violet.” Like him, I expect someone to attack at any moment. No one comes. My spine straightens at another scream, louder this time, and it’s not coming from behind us but in front of us.
In seconds, I’ve got a knife in each hand, and he’s cocked his gun. I wish I was experienced enough to have one too, but I’ll get there. The knives are only my backup. My body’s my main weapon.
There’s no movement ahead of us or around us. I don’t look at Cain, both of us focused. It’s a small room that leads into another, the curtains and shades drawn tight so the room’s darkened. A yellowed, bare bulb hangs from the entryway, throwing off a weak glow. Broken arcade games surround both sides, some with wires hanging out, others with crackedscreens, the machines tilted on their sides like discarded gaming carcasses. I shiver. There’s something eerie about them.
Another scream. My heart beats so fast I feel nauseous. Cain breaks through the rubble and runs. For the huge guy he is, he runsfast.I run behind him, panting to keep up, and we come to another doorway, this one with no door. This room must’ve been part of a haunted house or something similar back in the day. Discarded party decorations litter the floor. We enter the room; it’s lined with boxes, so dark it’s hard to see a damn thing.
A wall of stench hits my nostrils, and I cover my mouth and nose. The unmistakable scent of body odor, sweat, and sex lingers in the air. My mouth waters with the need to vomit, and bile burns the back of my throat, but I have to keep my head on straight. I can’t lose my shit now.
Cain’s boots crunch on broken glass as another scream tears through the quiet.
Cain sees them before I do. I know this the second he whips out his gun and aims. “You motherfucker. Put the light on, Vi. I want to see the life leave his eyes when I kill him.”
Him. One. There’s only one? He stands directly in front of me so I can’t see a damn thing.
I look around frantically for a light switch and finally see one behind a stack of boxes. I lean in and flick it on. The room lights up, revealing a bulky guy not much older than I am wearing an eye patch, his long black hair covering his face like a shroud. He grins like he’s just won the lottery. Beside him tied to the bed lies a young woman in a tank top and nothing else, her body laced with lacerations and angry red welts.
“Cain,” she says in a tearful voice. “I told you not to come, I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Ahh, Mr. Master. I see you?—”
“Get down and cover.”
I take a split second to process the command he snaps out before I drop to my knees and cover my ears, the cold metal of my knives on either side framing my face. One gunshot, two, a third I feel straight in my belly, and Dossier’s body falls to the floor heavily. He screams, grabbing his arm.
“Secure Skylar, Violet. Leave him to me.”
“Cain!” I stare in surprise as a second man enters the room who looks remarkably like Dossier. He brandishes a gun in the doorway. I don’t think, but fling my knife with perfect precision directly at him. It strikes his belly as gunshots erupt. He falls to the floor, his face a mask of fury as he lunges for me. I roll and duck as he strikes out, dodging every attempt to hit me.
I have a second knife I whip at his leg. It hits precisely above his knee. He grabs at the knife, howling with rage, just as a gunshot hits his shoulder. Another one hits him in his other shoulder. I look up to see Cain staring down at him, his gun still smoking.
I know he’s a perfect shot. He didn’t aim to kill. He’s here to capture. The killing will be a different story.
Dossier’s bleeding behind him, his hand on his head as blood drips down his fingers.
Cain pulls out his phone and makes a call.
“Upper room. They’re both alive, but not for long so fuckingmove.”
“You bastard! You think this is over?” Dossier spits blood and spittle on the ground in front of him.
“Oh, no,” Cain says with that smile that chills me to the bone. “Nowhere close to over.” He falls to one knee beside Dossier. “Violet, you secure the other asshole.”
“Happily.” I yank my knife from the guy’s leg and hold it to his temple. “You hurt innocent women. If you move, I’ll slice your throat.” My hand shakes with the effort of holding myself back.
“You tried to kill my brother in Paris,” Dossier shouts. “You left him for dead. You son of a bitch, so proud of yourself.”
“I defended my country. You kidnapped and raped innocent women,” Cain says. I turn to look as Cain reaches over and squeezes his shoulder. Blood pours out of the wound and Dossier screams like a dying animal. “We’ll both burn in hell for what we’ve done, but not until I’m good and ready to let you go.”
Twins. The one supposedly killed wasn’t dead after all. It all makes sense.
Dossier and his brother worked in tandem, one with an obvious alibi while the other kidnapped their victims. I’d bet good money both raped them. DNA evidence proved Dossier was the perpetrator because he was. Twin DNA is often so close it’s indistinguishable.
Now that it’s clear, I don’t know how we missed it before. Twins. Fuckingtwins.
I scream when something strikes my back, pain radiating from my spine to my neck. I grab at my back and feel something wet and sticky. I look in disbelief at my hand covered in blood.
He sliced me with my own damn knife, but not very well. It grazed my skin but didn’t stick.
