I sliced the blade across Stuart’s throat, cutting through flesh to end his sorry existence. It took several slices because his neck was so fucking big. After I’d watched Drake slice those guys throats, I knew exactly what to do. It was satisfying seeing the blood pouring down his body.
I stepped down from the chair, set the knife down on it and stood back with the boys, watching Stuart gurgle as blood flowed from the wounds we’d made. We watched the life drain from his eyes together, knowing we’d finally brought an end to this man. The one who’d caused us nothing but pain. It was done. We’d killed him. He was gone.
The boys crowded around me a moment later, holding me against them to reassure me it was over. I breathed out a sigh of relief, sinking into them as silence descended over us.
The silence in the wake of death brought upon the world by the Four Horsemen and their goddess, Nyx. The silence to end it all.
Thirty Eight
Drake
Once we got Stuart and Phoebe down from the hooks when the blood had stopped dripping, the four of us carried them back into the house. We laid them down in their bed together, Francis removing the harnesses so we could dispose of the ropes and covered the bodies with their sheets.
“Go get the containers and bring them to the master bathroom,” I told Francis and Prescott who gave me a look but left the room as I’d requested.
I had to admit, this was a diversion we could do without considering this whole thing had taken longer than I expected, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. In a sick sort of way, I needed this.
“I knew you had something planned in that room,” Scarlett said, crossing her arms over her chest and giving me a look.
“And you will find out very soon what it is.”
“We don’t have time to waste.”
I raised an eyebrow and stalked over to her.
“It won’t be wasting time, little wisp.”
She didn’t look as though she believed me. To be honest, I hardly believed myself. This was going so far off book, I wasn’t sure I recognised myself. It was reckless. Maybe Prescott had rubbed off on me. He had almost got Scarlett caught by Stuart’s fucking men after agreeing to chase her in the rain. Thankfully, nothing had come our way because of the man he’d killed. We’d checked up on the guy who was meant to dispose of him when Scarlett and Prescott had been at Rosie’s. He’d taken Prescott’s warning to heart. We would have killed him if he hadn’t got rid of his friend.
“Since you decided you wanted their blood, I have an idea of what the fuck you’re up to,” West said as he left the bedroom.
Scarlett stared up at me for a moment before retreating from the room too. I shook my head as I exited the bedroom. West and Scarlett stood outside the bathroom door. He rubbed her back and nuzzled her hair with his face. I sighed and leant against the wall outside. Scarlett didn’t like me keeping anything from her. I wasn’t sure she’d agree if I told her in advance.
Prescott and Francis appeared at the top of the stairs, each carrying a container with care. I shoved off the wall and opened the bathroom door, stepping inside the bright, white-tiled room. In the centre of it stood a huge Victorian-style claw-footed bath. And in that bath, I’d drained three people of their blood before I’d taken them to their rooms.
Scarlett came to a standstill next to me, taking in the rest of the space. There was a huge rainfall shower on one side of the room and the other had double sinks on the counter. The huge window looked out over the dark garden beyond.
Her eyes went to the bath. Then she took a step towards it, cocking her head to the side.
“A blood bath,” she said without any inflection in her voice. “You made me a blood bath.”
“Yes.”
West whistled as he walked around to the bath and then rolled his eyes.
“You really are a kinky little shit, Drake.”
I shrugged and continued to watch Scarlett. She dragged her fingers along the lip of the bath as she circled it.
“You want to bathe me in the blood of our enemies.”
“Yes.”
She nodded, then walked over to the sink counter and ripped off her gloves, setting them down. Next, she began to remove her clothes as if she wasn’t going to question this any further.
“Put it in the bath,” I said to Prescott and Francis, who had joined us.
“This might be the most fucked up thing we’ve done,” Prescott said as he walked over to the bath and carefully poured out the blood into it.
“We just flayed a man’s skin from his body, and you think Scarlett taking a bath in blood is fucked up?” Francis asked as he walked around the other side and poured in his container, making sure not to spill it.