“I know you’re there, negator,” called a man’s voice from the kitchen. It had the perfectly flat, accent-free tone of professional actors and vampires. Unfortunately, I didn’t think this guy had a SAG card. “As I believe they say in American movies, come out with your hands up.”
Anytime now, Jesse, I thought, not responding. He was supposed to be crashing noisily through the back door, distracting Oskar so I could rush in and free Molly.
Then I heard the scream.
If anyone had asked me five minutes ago, I would have said you can’t recognize someone’s voice based on a scream alone, but the raw, ragged sound that tore out of the kitchen was so distinctly Molly that my heart stopped for a moment. I had to force myself not to run in there. Molly was human right now, which meant she was feeling every bit of the pain Oskar inflicted on her—and she wasn’t healing from it. I tried to retract my radius again, to make Oskar think I’d left, but I couldn’t focus.
“I’m going to kill her anyway, you know,” the same voice called, in a cool, unaffected tone. “So how about I count to three, and if you’re not in here, I’ll slit her throat and watch her bleed out right this minute.”
“Scarlett, get out of here! He’s got a gu—” Molly’s hoarse voice was silenced, and my guts twisted.
“One!” the man called.
Goddammit, Jesse.
“Two!”
“I’m coming!” I yelled over the counter. I jammed the knife in my right hand into my watch band, pocketed the other one, and stood slowly with my arms up, the knife hidden behind my hand.
There was a man now standing in the lit doorway, holding a handgun that was pointed at my chest. He appeared to be around thirty-five, with dirty blond hair and a lean, athletic build. His features were pleasant enough, but there was crazy in his eyes. He wore a bulletproof vest on the outside of a button-down shirt and jeans. Both were spattered with blood, but I doubted it was his.
He grinned as I slowly stood up, my hands still raised. “Come join the party,” he said. “Scarlett, was it? I’m Oskar.”
“I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but you seem like kind of a dick, so . . .” I shrugged.
“That’s no way to talk to your betters,” he said without heat. He used the gun to beckon me into the kitchen. “Come in here. Let’s get a look at you.”
I walked forward, and the guy took a few steps back, making space for me to come into the other room. There were shiny metal appliances everywhere—undoubtedly kept in peak condition for commercial shoots. The only thing in the room that wasn’t immaculate was the body tied to the long metal table in the center of the room. Molly. Just as I’d predicted.
Under ordinary circumstances, I might have been pleased about being right. But there was no satisfaction to be found here. She was . . . almost unrecognizable. Over a dozen leather belts were buckled around her body from her neck to her ankles, securing her to the table. I’d expected blood, but not so much that her black hair looked damply glued to the metal. More blood smeared the tattered remains of the dress she’d put on back at her apartment building. It was barely staying on her now, thanks to the long strips that had been cut into it with the carving knife that had been casually discarded on her legs. Most of the cuts from the knife had healed thanks to vampire abilities, but there was a new one, a deep stripe of blood running down her cheek. Both of her eyes had been blackened, which meant he must have hit her just before my arrival. He’d also stuffed a gag in her mouth—a bloody piece of cloth—and her nostrils were flaring as she struggled to breathe around it. Her eyes were wild. She’d lost a lot of blood, which meant that when she was a vampire, she was probably very thirsty.
Oskar let out a low, appreciative whistle. “Not bad, girl,” he said, and I realized he’d been ogling me. “God, I love the number of beautiful women in this town. I could rent you out easy. Too bad you’re so . . . breakable.” His lip curled up. “My clientele prefers their girls a little sturdier.”
I made a big show of yawning, because that’s what you do to men who traffic in power over women. “Misogynistsayswhat?”
His brow furrowed suspiciously. “What?”
“Exactly.” Guess they didn’t have that joke in . . . wherever the fuck this guy lived.
Oskar sighed, pressed the gun to the meat of Molly’s thigh, and pulled the trigger. She screamed into her gag. “No!” I yelped, starting forward, but Oskar shook his head at me to move back. Tears were running from Molly’s eyes.
“Any more funny jokes for me?” Oskar said brightly. I shook my head, mute. “Good. Now, I was just going to kill you, but you know, it’s kind of interesting, being around a negator. I can roll with change.” He beamed at me like I’d just handed him the keys to a new car. “So. New plan!” he announced.
Then he raised the gun and shot me in the stomach.
Chapter 41
The force shoved me backward, my shoulder blades hitting the wall behind me. I curled into myself, clutching my stomach. The knife I’d hidden in my watchband clattered to the ground, causing Oskar to snort with derision.
“Really? What is that, a fucking pocket knife?” He stomped close enough to kick it away from me, then returned to his spot next to Molly.
“Fuck,” I muttered, pressing my hands against my shirt. The bullet had hit the bottom of my own Kevlar vest, and I was pretty sure I had a broken rib or three. I didn’t have to fake the look of pain on my face, but I stayed curled up so I could hide the lack of blood.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Oskar sang. “While you bleed out, Molly and I are going to experiment with a few methods of torture that only work on humans. A little waterboarding, maybe some light strangulation. Then when you die, negator, I’ll wheel our girl Molly into the parking lot to wait for the sun.” He smiled broadly. “I’m hoping you live until sunrise, because then I can wheel her out and I can watch from the windows. How fun is that?”
“You and I have very different definitions of fun,” I mumbled. Where in the fuck was Jesse? I was starting to worry.
“That’s probably true,” Oskar said agreeably. He stepped back to Molly’s face. “What do you think, sweetheart? Are you having fun?”
I expected Molly to glare or give him the finger, but she shook her head at him, eyes desperate. I worked my fingers under the hem of my shirt, trying to access the knives belted around my stomach, right above the bullet. “What did she ever do to you?” I asked, to cover any sound. I tugged a knife free.
“You know,” Oskar said with pursed lips, “nobody has ever actually asked me that before. Thank you, sincerely.” He pointed the gun at me again, this time at my head. “But shut your fucking mouth, bitch. I’m already getting tired of you.”
“Wha-t-t-t,” I stuttered, my voice weak and frightened. “What if I want to scream?”
He grinned. “Oh, screaming’s just fine. I encourage screaming.”
“Cool,” I said in my normal voice. I took a deep breath and screamed as loud as I could.
It took about seven seconds before the drive-through window behind Oskar shattered under the tremendous force of the bargest sailing through it.
“What the fu—” was all he managed to say before Shadow knocked him to the ground. I saw the flash of her teeth, but Oskar got his gun around and shot her several times in the chest. It wouldn’t penetrate her skin, of course, but she did have to fall back to recover. Sensing his opportunity, Oskar wobbled to his feet and started kicking my bargest in the stomach.
“Oh hell no,” I said out loud. The table that held Molly was in my way, so I inched my back up the wall, rising just far enough to send my first knife slamming into Oskar.
Fun fact about throwing knives: if they’re sharp and thrown hard, they can puncture Kevlar. I was aiming for his heart, but between his movement and my broken ribs, the knife buried itself in the back of his shoulder. He let out a surprised cry, trying to reach over his shoulder to feel the hilt. He turned toward me and raised the gun at my head, but I had finished standing up by then. I sent the next knife into his chest.