Enjoying the dark of the night as he made his way through, he realized this was probably the one thing he was going to enjoy the most.
The warehouse they had kept her in came into view and he slipped inside. The long, industrial space was empty, just like he wanted it to be for anyone who came stumbling. Making his way through the side, he went to the back, to the tiny hellhole of a room she had been put in, the ceiling she had stared up at day after day. He had seen every single video they had sent out, seen the way her eyes had slowly died, her body had given up, her mind had left. He had seen, and if there was one thing on this planet that could make him go berserk, it was that. He had killed more people in those six months than he had in the last decade, asking, interrogating, disposing.
The Syndicate was fucking shaking in their boots at that point. Out of the five members they had at the top of the pyramid, he had already finished off three, with only two remaining and both of them in the wind, hiding like the snakes they were until he was done.
Oh, he wasn’t done.
He pushed open the door to the little room, and entered, the hood drawn over his face.
The pungent scent of blood, urine and decay filled his nose. He was glad that his olfactory senses weren’t as sharp.
Hector was strung up, hanging from the ceiling much like the woman in Moonflame had been. The difference? He was bleeding from little cuts and he wasn’t about to get any pleasure. Of the three men, Hector had been the one who broke her the most, the one who came to her the most and killed little parts of her every time. And he was the one who put the camera in the room, to make sure Dainn could live every moment with her. That was how he’d seen her rip the roses he’d given her, how he’d seen her hack into her beautiful, long hair until it was all on the floor.
His chest tightened with the memory. He remembered watching that, breathing through his nose as his glass of water had cracked in his hand, just glad that she was alive and breathing. As long as she kept breathing, he would find her. As long as she kept breathing, he would bring her back. As long as she kept breathing, he would stay in control.
A man with nothing to lose was the most dangerous creature on this earth. And as long as she breathed, he had something to lose, something to long, something to live for.
He left Hector as he was, unconscious and hanging, and turned to the other guy, one tied to a chair and not bleeding. Yet.
“Rise and shine,” he said, throwing the little cabinet on the side on the floor.
Both monsters jerked awake from the bang.
Hector’s eyes widened with terror, the other guy swallowed.
“P…please,” the second guy stuttered. “Let me go. I didn’t do anything. I swear. I can get you whatever you want. Let me go.”
Dainn simply sat down on the upturned cabinet, his hands hanging loosely, elbows resting on his knees, his lighter in his gloved hands. He didn’t wear the gloves because he didn’t like people seeing his burned hands—from an accidental fire when he was younger. No, that he didn’t give a shit about. It was because hands touched things, and he didn’t like other people’s essence on him. They also helped his fingerprints not land on things and that was useful, especially since Blackthorne Group was a well-oiled machine. But mainly, it was because of the essence. The only essence he liked on his naked hands was hers. Just hers.
“What did you think was going to happen?” he asked casually, enjoying the fear in his eyes. “When you raped her, multiple times, on camera, knowing I was going to watch, hmm?”
He stood up, walking around to the back, seeing how both of them turned their necks to keep him in sight. It was useless. He knew how to use shadows, and that’s what he did, merging into them until they couldn’t see him, only hear his voice, amping up their terror.
“You invited the devil to play, don’t beg for mercy when he shows up.”
The second guy whimpered, the sound grating on his nerves. His whimper was like chalk on board, making him want to snap it. When she whimpered, sometimes in pleasure, sometimes in pain, it made him want to wrap her in his arms and keep her to himself.
Hector spoke, breaking the silence. “I can give… I can give you information. About The Syndicate. Whatever you want to know.”
Not surprising, since the bastard wasn’t loyal to anything. Still, he played along, humoring the man. “What can you tell me?”
“I can…” Hector thought for a second. “I can tell you that there’s a change in leadership now. There were five before.”