Page 12 of Where Sinners Repent

I cry out, body jolting with sparks.

The last thing I hear is the raspiest growl. So quiet I almost miss it. But I’m mesmerised. Addicted.

Begging for more.

Chapter 4

Kaleb

Even in this place, where no light can make its way in, my knife shimmers.

I twist it between my fingers, the way I have so many times before. At this point, it’s another limb, an extension of me. A masterpiece.

Iridescent black and purple, the butterfly knife is as sharp as it gets. And every time the blade sparkles, it draws a whimper from the man in front of me.

Slowly, I drag my gaze back to him. Letting myself smile.

Here, in this abandoned factory turned torture room, I can smile. Anyone who comes here doesn’t leave.

At least not with a beating heart.

Apparently, my smile isn’t friendly. The way it makes the bleeding man cry out in fear. How rude...

With a click, I close the butterfly knife and shove in into my pocket. It’s too pretty to be used on such filth. I like to save her for more... satisfying jobs.

I prowl to the table that holds all my toys. The choices are endless. And because the pathetic excuse for a man already spilled all his secrets, I can start to have fun.

Disappointing, really... how quickly some men fold.

This one pissed his pants and had snot bubbling out of his nose before I even finished hanging him up with chains like a pig.

Man was dehydrated; that’s for sure.

And his secrets were the same utter bullshit that I’ve heard all month.

The Devils broke the truce in the grey zone.

The Devils are free targets.

The Devil’s territory is broken.

Blah, blah fucking blah.

We know the truth. The Devils had every right to destroy every last Wraith and spill their blood on the grey zone. They fucked with what’s ours, and they learned the hard way.

Now Zeke and his minions, well whatever is left of them, have crept back into hiding, licking their wounds. I don’t doubt for a second that they will bite back, eventually.

But right now, we have bigger issues. Being the fact that every little wannabe gang thinks they can have a go at the big leagues. That they can try to stop our shipments. Or, like this little fucker, try to start a fire in one of our nightclubs.

Seriously, they think a measly little flame will ruin us.

At least make it interesting, with some Molotov or something.

He blabbered about his puny club, a whole state away, trying to play along with the grey zone rules. Learned he fucked up real quick. Because now he’s strung up and bleeding out, the slow drips of his blood a satisfying lullaby.

Peering at the table, I decide to go with my bowie blade. It’s a heavy blade with a long clip point blade, perfect for when I want to hack into someone.

My eyes flick to the door, waiting for Kai to saunter in. We usually do this together. He loves watching me flay the skin from another human.