I’d run buck-fucking-naked to Hawksridge if I had to.
“Get Flaw here, now. Have him bring clothing and supplies. I want him here in an hour. Do you hear me?”
She sucked back a sob. “I’ll—I’ll tell him. Kite…they’ve been using the old equipment. They used it on Elisa in those pictures. You know?”
I froze to the linoleum. “What the fuck did they use?”
Jaz went quiet.
“What did they use, Jasmine?!”
“The Iron Chair, the Scold’s Bridle, the Scavenger’s Daughter.” She cried again. “I’m so sorry, Jethro. I was there for most of them. I did my best to comfort and support her. But I couldn’t say no. I couldn’t run the risk of them knowing you’re—” More tears.
Conflicted emotions ran through me. I hated that she couldn’t save Nila. But I understood at the same time. It was too much to ask from my crippled sister. Too much for anyone living in that insane asylum.
My soul sank further. “What else, Jaz?”
Her voice shook. “Tonight…they hurt her. I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t. I didn’t even know until it was too late.”
My heart shattered. “Tonight. Fuck, Jaz. What happened tonight?”
She sniffed loudly. “They used the Heretic’s Fork. She…slipped.”
“Shit!”
The fork was lethal. One trip and it was death. My mind swam with images of the neck brace padlocked around the accused’s throat, forcing them to hold their head high for days. The deadly sharp prongs wedged against sternum and throat, just waiting for tiredness or a fall to jerk their head down and stab them through the heart and jaw.
“That—that’s not the worst of it,” she stammered.
My body turned to lava and hate. “Goddammit! What else could they do?!”
“Part of the Fourth Debt. They—they—” She couldn’t finish.
No.
No.
Fucking no!
I tore off the hospital wristband and traded patient for wrathful avenger.
They wouldn’t get away with this.
Not anymore.
They’re motherfucking dead.
“Get Flaw here. I’m coming home.”
A Few Hours Earlier…
“NICE OF YOU to join us, Nila.”
Cut clasped his hands in front of his black jeans. His salt and pepper hair glistened from the sconces around the room.
Daniel shoved me forward. I tripped on the blood-red rug in the centre of the space. A cough escaped as my eyes danced around yet another never before entered part of the Hall.
Amber drapes and bronze accents. War memorabilia along with a few glass cabinets displaying Luger pistols and bloodied ribbons from some battle long ago. Dust motes hovered in the air, swirling a little from the heat escaping the fireplace. The low ceiling and dark orange walls made the space den-like and cosy, full of history and artifacts.
“It’s time we moved forward with the next stage…don’t you think?” Cut sipped his goblet of cognac. “You’ve had time to repay a few of the smaller sins, but my schedule is running behind, and I can’t delay my upcoming surprise any longer.”
Vertigo tried to tackle me, but I did my best to stand tall. Furious tears froze in my eyes, glinting like daggers but not daring to fall.
I will not cry.
Not for them.
Not for anyone.
“You’re gonna enjoy the surprise, Weaver.” Daniel laughed, circling me like a vulture. “Gonna go on a little trip soon.”
A trip?
Where?
Why?
Bonnie shifted in her chair beside the fire. A woollen blanket covered her knobbly knees. “Don’t ruin the surprise, Buzzard. She’ll find out soon enough.”
Sour mistrust and hate filled my mouth. “Whatever you’re planning, I hope you’ve arranged your own funerals.”
Cut coughed on his liquor; Daniel burst out laughing. Slinging an arm over my shoulders, he whispered, “You’re becoming so much fun. I like this side of you.”
“What side? The side that doesn’t give a shit about you anymore?”
My illness had left me weak but Jethro had made me strong. His messages and assurances that we would have a future allowed me to stand up and be heard, even if it fell on deaf ears.
Dragging his foul tongue along my chin, Daniel cocked his head. “No, the side that pretends she doesn’t care but she does.” His spicy aftershave polluted the air.
It was late and I’d believed I’d avoided yet another night in this nest of vipers. When he’d come to collect me, I’d been plotting how to end it. Sitting on my bed, dressed for sleep, I wasn’t thinking empty thoughts anymore. Hidden in my fabric chest was a large piece of black cotton with chalk scribbles on how to kill each Hawk.
Poison.
Shooting.
Bludgeoning.
I’d explored every avenue, and Jasmine even offered me the use of her personal gun. She’d told me that if Cut died from unnatural causes, the estate and his children’s futures died with him. She told me that his Last Will and Testament pretty much screwed everyone. However, she had faith I could come up with a way to revoke the fine print and somehow save them.
Our relationship had changed into a mutual liaison. She leaned on me. I leaned on her.
“Know why we’ve summoned you here, Nila?” Suits of armour watched me as Cut smiled. “Care to guess what you’ll pay tonight?”
No…