I gather him into my arms, cradling his head against my chest. The coppery scent of blood fills my nose; Jake’s blood, too much blood.
“Look after yourself… and remember who you are, Clara, not what they made us.”
“I’m sorry, Jake, I can’t promise that. The Ravens—they must die.”
He coughs, a wet, gurgling sound, and more blood spills from his lips.
He tries to speak again, but all that comes is more blood. I hold him, feeling the life ebb from him with each passing second. His eyes fix on me, intense even as they fade. And then, they don’t close.
“Jake? Jake, no! No, no, no!” I’m screaming, shaking him, begging him to come back, to not leave me.
But he’s gone.
My brother, my protector, the only person who ever really loved me…gone.
Rage and grief war inside me, tearing me apart. The Ravens did this. They took him from me.
And they’ll pay. I’ll make them pay if it’s the last thing I do.
I press a kiss to Jake’s forehead, my tears mingling with his blood. “I love you, Jake. And I swear… I swear on your grave… the Ravens will fall. Every last one of them.”
And I won’t stop until they’re all dead… or I am.
two
Clara
Nine years later
“God, no! Make it stop—it fucking burns!”
To anyone with half a brain, the screams and the stink would be enough to turn their stomachs inside out.
The air in the warehouse is thick with the stench of blood and burning flesh, but I’ve grown accustomed to it over the years. It’s just another day in the life of Clara Caldwell.
Taking a long drag of my cigarette, I let the smoke fill my lungs before exhaling slowly.
I glance down at the pathetic excuse for a man tied to the chair in front of me.
Lionel Calpadi, one of my father’s so-called loyal underlings. The fucker thought he could go behind our backs and start his own little operation.
Big mistake.
“You know, Lionel,” I say, my voice dripping with mock sweetness, “I really didn’t want it to come to this. But you just had to be a greedy little shit, didn’t you?”
Lionel whimpers, his eyes wide with fear. “Please, Clara. I didn’t mean to—”
I slam my fist down on the table, making him jump. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Lionel. You knew exactly what you were doing. And now, you’re going to pay the price.”
I nod to Stephan, my father’s second-in-command and the man who’s been mentoring me for the past nine years. He hands me a pair of pliers, a grin on his face.
“Let’s see how long you can hold out, shall we?” I say, gripping the pliers tightly.
Lionel’s screams echo off the walls as I get to work, tearing off his fingernails one by one. The sound is music to my ears, a twisted symphony of pain and suffering.
“Just give me the name, Lionel,” I hiss, leaning in close to his face. “Who put you up to this?”
But Lionel just shakes his head, his eyes rolling back in his head as he slips into unconsciousness.
