Good.
I pin him flat. Nose crushed, one eye swelling shut, blood everywhere.
My hands find his throat.
They close around it. I don't squeeze hard. Not yet.
The beast wants to tear. To crush. To end this in seconds.
I hold it back. Not to spare him—to make him suffer longer.
"You had a gun to her head." My voice comes out low and rough. All beast.
He claws at my fingers. Black leather gloves scraping against my wrists. Tries to speak. Nothing comes out but a wet gurgle.
"You put your hands on her throat."
Tighter now. Cartilage shifts under my palms. His windpipe starting to collapse. The bullet hole in my shoulder grinds—bone on metal—but I don't ease up.
"She was screaming—" I lean down, my face inches from his. "—and you didn't stop."
His eyes bulge. His mouth works, opens, closes. Red to purple. Purple to something darker. A crackling sound under my fingers—the slow crush of things that aren't meant to bend.
"What—" He forces the word out. A rasp. A wheeze. "What are you?"
I don't answer. Just squeeze tighter.
"And Carver." Tighter. "You killed Carver."
His gloved fingers scrabble at my wrists. Weaker now. His legs kick against the floor. Each breath he fights for comes out rattling, wet.
I could end this instantly. One sharp twist and his neck breaks. Quick. Clean. Over.
I don't.
His pulse flutters under my palms. Fading. His eyes glaze. His hands fall away from my wrists—too weak to fight anymore.
I've got him. He's done.
Footsteps behind me—soft, deliberate.
I don't turn. I don't stop.
Behind me, metal scrapes tile—one of the guns I threw.
Eden steps into my peripheral vision, the weapon in her hand.
She walks up. Stops beside us. Crouches down—one knee, one foot planted—and presses the barrel to Daniels' temple.
No hesitation. She decided before she drew.
He looks at her. Terror flooding what's left of his face.
"No—" he chokes out. "Please—"
"It's not going to hurt." Her voice is so calm it doesn't sound human. "One second you're here. The next—"
POW.
