"I told you Ghost and Grim were artists." Killian chuckled from his seat near the door.
"And their canvas is beautiful," I murmured, taking it all in.
Their teeth marks were wide, crushing gashes along Mitch and Troy's calves and thighs. Their skin was already swelling, bruised in deep purples and red.
"You're staring too hard, Honor. Don't let the meat distract you from your purpose."
I looked at the men, at the pain I could see in their eyes, but it wasn't enough. My hands flexed. I let Navy's words wash over me again.
They weren't shooting to kill, Honor. It was a warning."
I leaned down slightly, letting the weight of my presence press against the room. My voice came out low as I spoke in Killian's native language, Kriolu.
"Mata (kill)."
Ghost lunged first, fangs sinking deep. Grim followed, tearing into muscle and tendon with ruthless precision. The men screamed, but there was no mercy. When it was over, Mitch and Troy hung still, nothing left but silence, and a finished canvas.
I exhaled slowly and stepped back. Killian leaned into his chair, his expression unreadable, Grim and Ghost settling at his feet.
"Now," Killian's voice cut through, "why am I really here? I appreciate you letting my friends create, but you were more than capable of handling this on your own."
"I need your help," I stated, watching blood drip onto the concrete.
"Wolfe built himself quite the slaughterhouse. He's got way better contraptions here, like the meat grinder that would've easily erased your problems. My help wasn't needed."
"Need not needed." I turned from the bodies and stared at Killian. "I want to kill Lucian."
Killian's mouth curved into a crude smile as he let out a low whistle.
"Killing Lucian is likely to start a war that you can't win."
"I know."
"Then why?"
Before I could answer, footsteps echoed down the hall. Killian's hands went to Ghost and Grim, one palm on each broad head, steadying them as they turned toward the entrance.
"Who?"
"Syn and Choyce," I answered.
Killian smirked. "This will be interesting."
Syn walked in first.
"My babies." She smiled, looking down at Ghost and Grim. They grunted softly, leaning into her touch.
Then Choyce walked in.
She wasn't dressed how Lucian preferred. There was no tailored suit or armor masquerading as sophistication. She walked past Killian without a word. Ghost and Grim growled low in her direction, but she didn't flinch. She just kept coming toward me.
"We need to talk," she spat.
I fell in step beside her, then moved, leading her into one of the side rooms. Before the fluorescent lights could turn on, I heard the unmistakable click of her gun cocking back.
I chuckled, turning just enough to catch the fury burning in her eyes as she aimed.
"Cho—"
