“I gave my guys a tattoo that has a certain type of ink that can be traced. It scans and grants them access to Blackout at all times,” Tyson explains.
I get a sickening feeling in my gut.
“So if it’s the same kind of ink…maybe members of Dollhouse scan it,” Tyson offers.
“Can you track it?” Haidyn asks.
“Like GPS? No.” Ty turns on his computer. His fingers fly over the keys before a screen pops up on the TV hanging on the wall, showing us aschedule that has names and time stamps. “But it does log every time someone uses it to enter.”
“Maybe that’s why she had it. To keep track of who they use and when they use them. Can it be linked to an account?”
“What do you mean by account?” Tyson wonders.
“Like payment. You pick a girl. Scan the code, automatic payment to use her.”
“I don’t see why not. It would depend on what type of program they use.” He shrugs. “But I don’t know why they’d want a trail. It would be too easy to find who paid for each girl and when. There’s no disputing something like that.”
I nod in understanding and get to my feet. But why would they have to dispute it? I’m sure they’ve been getting away with this for years.
“You know he’s in way over his head, right?” Haidyn says to Tyson, referring to the detective feeding us information.
“Yeah.” He sighs, sitting back in his chair. “The guy is going to end up dead, but at least he’ll be useful while he’s still breathing.”
“Do you think he’s telling you everything?” Saint asks.
“I think he’s telling me enough.”
“He has no clue what he’s looking for,” Saint adds.
“Obviously.” He taps the photo of one of the women. “You guys know more by just looking at them than he does. But I’ll make sure he continues to show us what he has, and we’ll do our own investigating.”
ELEVEN
EVERETT
“Lullaby” by Niykee Heaton blares from the speaker that I have sitting on the floor by the stairs that lead up to the balcony.
The song carries through the large cathedral as I stand next to the Lords’ altar, taking my time on the guy who lies on it. His arms are tied above his head, and his legs are spread wide.
He’s sobbing behind his gag while I thread the needle through his ashen skin. He’s lost a lot of blood from the razor blades. The Lords did a number on him tonight.
I find it ironic that they torture themselves. Maybe they’ll eventually kill all the Lords off.
A few times, I’ve thought about setting the place on fire while they have a confessional. If I locked all the exits, I could probably kill over a hundred at once. Including myself. But every time I think about it, I tell myself to wait. Another time, another day. Why settle for a hundred when you can kill a hundred and one? I just need the right opportunity.
The sound of the double doors creaking lets me know someone is here. I don’t bother looking up, but the naked Lord starts screaming into his gag as if they’ve returned to cut on him again. Demanding more blood in payment.
I tie off the thread and cut it before setting aside the needle and scissors.
Looking up, I see a Lord sitting in the front pew. He’s leaning back, arms spread wide and a smirk on his handsome face. I remove the bloody gloves from my hands and pause the song before I speak. “Two visits in the same week. Why am I all of a sudden so unlucky?”
Kashton’s smile grows. “Angel.” He winks at me, and I want to shove my needle and thread through his lips and sew his mouth shut so he can’t call me that ever again.
“Come back for more drugs?” I tease.
“Careful, Eve. Fool me once… Next time, you’ll be the one drugged.” His eyes lazily look over my body. “But I won’t leave you all alone. When you wake up, you’ll be naked and hog-tied.”
I almost trip off the side of my heels but manage to stay upright. That’s what he wants. To see me kneel for him. “What do you want, Kash?” I walk around the altar, ignoring the sobbing Lord, and come to stand in front of Kashton. I pop a hip out and place my hands on them.
