Page 113 of Serpent & Saviors

I pulled harder, and a throaty sound was his response. The kiss was overwhelming, and tingles of pleasure ran down my body to my fingers and toes, centering between my thighs. I made an embarrassing moan into his mouth, forgetting for a brief second where we were. He hadn’t. Pulling back, he licked his lips.

Without breaking eye contact, he stated loudly, “Make your cut, Ms. Taylor, and then you and Tori go with Marcus.”

I blinked, trying to rationalize his words. With a shrug, Kinsley discarded her other stiletto and gracefully walked toward Cameron. She snaked her blade down his other cheek, sneering as he bled.

He sobbed, the fight in him gone for the moment. Briefly, I thought it might not even be worth the effort. Kinsley once more looked crazed. Our eyes met, and she beamed like she wasn’t holding a dripping blade in her hand. Alek yanked her hard, pulled her by the throat, and attacked her. My eyes widened in shock as she melted into his aggression.

“You are fucking everything to me,” he murmured against her lips.

He swatted her on the ass and shoved her toward the door. She giggled and grabbed my hand.

“Did you see that?” she asked, all innocent like.

“We did it!” I exclaimed suddenly, feeling euphoric.

Kinsley threw her arms around me and squeezed until I squeaked. She was stronger than she looked.

“Sorry,” she mumbled before turning a hopeful gaze my way. “Think the asshole has anything good to drink? We can snag it on our way out. I say a toast is in order, not to mention Izzy looked like she needed something.”

She soothed back the loose tendrils of my hair.

The room around me faded into the background as I mentally dissected the situation. Having only had one other time where I participated in the bloody side of Death Squad business, my senses were heightened. I may have been the one wielding a knife to my mother’s attacker years ago, but somehow everything about this felt different.

Something sinister had taken root in my heart. It was inexplainable, like I had been preparing secretly for this my entire life. A collision of emotions churned through me. Righting a wrong with a wrong was what tonight was about. Revenge truly was such a sweet, sweet word.

I took a deep breath and looked up as the door swung open. Pasha entered the room completely focused, and a hint of excitement brewed in his eyes. He seemed to have grown overnight. A darker side of him had emerged, and he was fully embracing it.

In stark contrast, fear radiated from Cameron.

My eyes fell to the scumbag whimpering still in the chair, incoherent babbling coming from his mouth. At least we wouldn’t have to listen to him spewing nonsense. I hid the small amount of unease coursing through me behind the facade I’d come to master over the years. It’s one I used frequently while I listened to the darker stories from my patients.

Sebastian grabbed Pasha by the shoulders. “My sister okay?” he asked, worry laced in his voice.

“You can go if you’d like,” I offered.

“No, I’ll stay. I’ve been waiting for years to see you in action again, my friend. Not to mention we’ll vote officially on the Dancer later.”

“Bella is good. I promise.” He reassured him. Whatever Bash saw in his eyes satisfied him. Pasha grinned. “Not to mention, I saw the girls on the way out. They had two bottles of champagne and three glasses. I have a feeling they’ll all be drunk by the time we’re done here. And I thought the vote was already a done deal.”

“Let’s see how you actually do tonight. Try not to throw up,” Bash said with a smirk, then released the kid. Sebastian walked over to Cameron and sniffed him. “Fill the tub, Dancer. Someone stinks.” He turned his attention to the sniveling coward. “Somehow, I knew you’d age poorly. Throw me the pliers, Nik?”

The metal sailed through the air, and Bash caught it. He ripped Cameron’s jaw down and pulled on his tongue to examine Isabella’s handiwork. Nik had sauntered over to check it out as well.

“Perfect placement, not surprising. Come see, Counselor.”

I ambled over, and indeed it was placed perfectly in the center of his tongue. It was swollen and looked like it hurt like hell. Once more, Cameron whimpered. The air was thick, and the only sound was the water filling the tub. I stretched my arms, then my neck one way and then the other, hearing the familiar crack.

Let the games begin.

Grabbing Cameron by the back of the neck, I pinched sharply, relishing the sounds of unease coming from him. That dark and twisted awakening made my blood pulse with adrenaline. I kicked the chair from under him as I hauled him from it and threw him unceremoniously to the ground. His knees crashed onto the concrete of the basement; arms thrust out to break his fall. My chest heaved as anger took up space inside me.

“Crawl, like the dog you are,” I ordered. My words simmered with the violence I was trying to contain.

We had a plan. If I didn’t control my emotions, I was liable to end it before he really suffered, and that wouldn’t do. Cameron needed some additional prodding, which Ivan provided by kicking him. The resounding thud that followed was like music to my ears. His ass absorbed the force, and he emanated a deep, muffled sound from his throat.

“A brief lesson for you on drowning, Dancer,” I drawled as Cameron pushed up on his hands and knees and crawled to his death. I followed closely on his heels before turning my attention back to Pasha.

“A certain fear overcomes you while being held underwater. You feel like your lungs are going to burst. Like they’ll actually explode. The burn is unexplainable, honestly. Every instinct he has inside will scream, reminding him not to breathe.”