Page 76 of After the Chase

He applies the flame to Ollie’s exposed back, where the cuts are still bleeding. The smell of burning flesh fills the room immediately, acrid and nauseating. Ollie’s scream reaches a pitch I didn't think human vocal cords could achieve.

Ivan holds the flame steady for five seconds. Then ten. Then fifteen.

When he pulls away, there's a blackened, blistered patch of skin the size of a fist.

“We need to finish this,” I say.

"Agreed." Ivan retrieves a larger knife from the table.

Ollie’s lips move, but no sound comes out as Ivan draws the blade across his throat in one smooth motion. The carotid artery opens and blood sprays across the floor in arterial spurts. Beautiful.

It takes forty-three seconds for him to die, and we stand in silence, watching the blood pool around the chair. The drainage system in the floor begins to work, pulling the blood toward the grates. I immediately take out my phone and take pictures.

“I love this room,” I say as I take as many angles as possible.

Ivan turns to me, and something passes between us.

"You enjoyed that as much as I did, we should do it more often," he says.

“It’s good to have hope, Ivan,” I say.

We clean ourselves at the industrial sink in the corner with cold water and industrial soap as the guys make conversation amongst themselves. The blood washes away easily. I quickly text Marcus, and let him know that I need help here with clean up.

“The guys from the clubhouse will be here in twenty,” I say to Dima, who just stares at me. “No need to thank me for preventing a war between you and The Serpents.”

“You should have gone through me before you did this. I don’t appreciate being left in the dark. If it wasn’t for Marcus, I would have had no idea what you two were planning,” Dima says.

“Take that up with Ivan and Marcus. I don’t work for you, I’m just here for the fun.”

I know Dima and Lev want to argue this out, blame it on me, but they manage to hold it together. Done with the drama, me and Ivan walk past them to head out front to make our way back to the hospital.

“How has Chase dealt with this?” Ivan asks me as we hit the road.

"Chase understands what I am, he chose this willingly."

"I just hope Ty feels the same when he wakes up.”

“I can’t do comfort, Ivan, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

We remain silent for the rest of the journey until we reach the hospital and head inside where Chase is waiting. I've discovered something about myself tonight, something I already knew but have now confirmed.

I'm very, very good at making people suffer, and I enjoy it. Not in the theatrical way Ivan does, with his pleasure and his showmanship. But in a science kind of way, with an artistic flare. I love the power, too.

Simon is standing outside the ICU waiting room when we arrive and I briefly acknowledge him before I find Chase inside, asleep in an uncomfortable chair. His journal that never leaves his side is open on his lap, pen still in his hand. I sit beside him, careful not to wake him. I can see what he's written:

Tyler is paying the price of this world.

No, I think, his is the price of being part of something bigger and we're all willing to pay it. I close the journal gently and rest my hand on Chase's shoulder. He stirs, his eyes opening slowly. When he sees me, relief floods his face.

"Noah?"

"I'm here."

"Is it done?"

"Yes, how is Tyler?”

"Stable. Still unconscious, but stable."