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DEATH

“Shadows whispered secrets sweeter than salvation, teaching the lamb that being lost was just the first step to being found.” ~ Anonymous

The moonlight filtered through the penthouse bedroom, casting an angelic glow around my little lamb. She’d cried herself to sleep after I’d told Sebastian about John Bordeaux. His shock was palpable, but I wanted to throat punch him for making Ella feel bad. I had to remind him that I was about to go on a manhunt, and whether he liked it or not, he’d be along for the ride. Pissed wasn’t even the right word for how I felt, and I promised to make the experience extra gory now that he was in my head more often than not.

Ella had tossed and turned all night but had finally settled into a fitful sleep. She would wake up in a few hours and look for Sebastian, but he was gone for now. It was my turn to be in the driver’s seat, and I had some shit to take care of.

The rise and fall of her chest caught my attention, and I muffled my growl at the thought of Sebastian being inside my little lamb. When I returned from my trip, there were so many things I wanted to do to her. My cock strained against my jeans as I toyed with ideas of tying her up and licking her pussy until she begged me to fuck her. Or maybe … a thought stirred inside me, but it would have to wait until I took care of business.

I’d reached out to Dope and Kip and asked Dope to fly to Portland to stay with Ella, Cami, and the kids while I tended to Xavier and his buddy, who were being held in an abandoned building in northern California. I placed a kiss on Ella’s forehead and then I slipped out of the room and then the penthouse, ensuring the entrance was locked and firmly closed before I made my way to the elevator.

Once I left the building, the sounds of the Portland nightlife came to life. I had hesitated leaving Ella, but she was safe and tucked away at the top of the building. There was no way anyone who wasn’t approved would be able to even make it to the elevator. After I’d had a little chat with the head security guard, I promised he would be compensated to make sure my wife and children were well guarded. Mike was a good guy, and over the years he’d turned a blind eye to some of my activities, so I was sure I could trust him.

A limo pulled up to the curb and the door opened, and a long jeaned leg appeared.

“I’m here,” Dope said, gathering his backpack and laptop. He handed me a brown paper bag. “Burners.”

“Good. I didn’t want to leave until you arrived. Plus, I’ll use the plane this time.” I unzipped my bag and stuffed the phones into it.

“Might as well. I’ll scrub the flight plan after you’ve landed. Kip is waiting for you.” He adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. “You’re all set up for your trip too. Kip will fill you in when you arrive.”

I tipped my chin at him. “I’ll be in touch. Hopefully with some fucking answers.”

Dope slapped me on the shoulder. “Later.”

I slipped into the back seat of the limo and closed the door.

“Airport,” I directed the driver. My palms itched as I mentally checked off the weapons strapped to my body and was grateful for my own plane so I didn’t have to try to get through security. I was ready to find out who Xavier and his boss were and what the hell they wanted.

“Time to play, motherfuckers,” I muttered under my breath as the limo pulled away from the curb and headed toward Portland airport.

The flight was just over an hour to California, then I rented a car and changed the plates as soon as I was out of the city. They could have it back once I didn’t need it, but they’d also be looking for Scott Harrison, who had rented the car, not me.

After driving then hiking to the abandoned building, I finally arrived as the sun was coming up. I’d used one of the burners to message Kip that I was there. I didn’t feel like getting shot if I startled him walking into the building.

The door creaked open, and I stepped inside, again securing it properly before I made my way to Kip, who was sitting at an old, scratched desk with his shoes propped up on it.

“Comfortable?” I frowned.

He grinned as he placed his feet on the dirty tile floor. “Welcome to hell.” Kip chuckled. “It’s pretty boring around here. I poke the prisoners on occasion to make sure they’re still breathing, but other than hanging around waiting for you, there’s not a lot to do.”

I set my bag on top of the desk. “How are my new friends?”

Kip smirked. “Ready and waiting.” He rose from the chair, and I followed him out of the room and down the hall. He pointed to the first door. “Behind number one is our first victim, John, who somehow is still alive, but I suspect the onset of an infection from you plucking out his eyes will kill him shortly. He’s in and out of consciousness, which might be useful if you can get any information from him.”

He strolled down the hall, then slowed in front of another door. “And the grand prize is our good friend Xavier, who is fully conscious but will never walk again due to broken kneecaps. He got a bit smart-assed with me, so I gave him a swift kick and broke them a little more.” Kip’s dark brow rose. “It’s a shame I’m having so much fun inflicting pain … or is it?”

My wicked chuckle echoed through the hall. “Let’s start with number one, since that son of a bitch is barely clinging to life.” I stalked back to John’s dingy room and flung the door open. The stench of urine and feces assaulted my senses, and I couldn’t help but smirk at John’s pitiful state. He cowered in the corner like a wounded animal.

I rolled up the sleeves of my black button-down shirt, ready to toy with my prey before I ended his pathetic existence. My boots scuffed across the floor as I approached him, fury rippling off me in waves as visions of my little lamb broken and lying in the middle of the road returned and fueled my fire.

“Who … who is it?” His voice quivered as he stared at me with wide, terrified eye sockets … or what was left of them.

“We meet again, John.” My lips curled into a cruel smile as I relished in his fear.

He began to tremble violently at the sound of my voice, which only heightened my sadistic pleasure. With a swift kick to his foot, I taunted him, “I have some good news for you.”

I knelt in front of him, allowing him a glimmer of hope before crushing it mercilessly. “If you tell me who your boss is and why they took Ella, I’ll end your miserable existence quickly. Isn’t there honor in being able to choose your own death?”

“And if I don’t?” His voice cracked as sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Then prepare for a slow, agonizing death where you’ll beg for mercy until your very last breath. Those are the only options I’m willing to offer you.”

“Like I can believe you,” John whined.

“I’m offended. I’m definitely a man of my word, and when I say I’ll kill you, make no mistake I absolutely will kill you.”

John’s face contorted with disgust as he spat on the floor in front of me. “Then I’ll take my secrets to the grave. It’s a matter of honor for a man to choose how he dies.” He sneered. “And I’ll die with my fucking mouth shut about your little piece of ass getting kidnapped.” He chuckled, as if his words were the funniest thing in the world.

The sound of his laughter triggered a primal rage inside me. A feral growl erupted from my throat. “Don’t you ever speak about her like that again.” I stood up and walked towards one of my favorite tools for dealing with troublesome individuals. Kip, always prepared for any situation, had made sure it was within arm’s reach.

I picked up the small yet effective tool and ran my hand over the handle, savoring its cold metal against my skin. “Are you familiar with combing or carding, John?” I asked in a low voice.

“Like being carded at a club?” he replied, attempting to mask his fear with a feeble attempt at humor.

I let out a cruel laugh. “You wish it were that simple. It’s an ancient form of torture where iron teeth used to prepare wool are instead used on human flesh.”

John’s Adam’s apple bobbed frantically as my words sunk in, sweat trickling down his temple. As I reveled in his terror, a twisted grin spread across my face.

“It’s one of my most effective methods of torture,” I hissed, grabbing him by the throat and hauling him to his feet. “And you’re about to experience it firsthand.” I dragged the sharp comb down his arm, slicing through skin and muscle until bone was exposed. Blood spurted from the wound, painting the floor in a macabre display.

John’s screams were muffled by my hand as I squeezed tighter, relishing in his agony. “Who is your boss?” I demanded, my voice cold and emotionless.

John’s cheeks reddened as he gasped for air. “I’ll tell you!” he pleaded.

“Speak,” I said, tightening my grip.

“They call him the Pied Piper,” John sobbed. “He’s a notorious killer with a legion of followers. He doesn’t want Ella … he wants you. You and he are tied together.”

My pulse raced with both fear and excitement at this revelation. The Pied Piper had been after me all along. And now, I finally had a name to put to the monster who haunted me.

My gaze narrowed on his grotesque eye sockets. “Why have I not heard of him before if he’s so notorious?”

“He stays well-hidden and only reveals himself to people he’s chosen as his followers.”

“He’s a cult leader,” I stated rather than asked.

“Call it whatever makes you fucking happy.”

“When I found Xavier, he was holding Ella in a duplicate of the home that my parents were killed in. Why the obsession with them?”

John smirked. “Are you really that stupid?”

“The blood loss must be clouding your judgment,” I retorted coldly, pressing the iron combs hard against the side of his face.

If he still had eyes, they would have bulged from their sockets at the sight of the metal. “Apologies for my bluntness, but I am not in the mood for games,” I growled, slowly dragging the combs down his cheek just enough to prove my point, eliciting screams from him.

“I’m sorry!” he cried out, trembling under my grasp. “I didn’t mean it!”

But it was too late for apologies. The pain and rage coursing through me consumed any trace of mercy or forgiveness.

“He’s your man. He’s the killer that left you an orphan. But you probably don’t remember all of that, do you?”

“I remember enough,” I snapped.

“But not what happened directly after. Just that your buddy found you huddled in the corner of the kitchen.” He licked his dry lips.

“If you’re asking if I recall stabbing my father, I do vaguely. I wasn’t sure if it was a dream or real.”

“Real. The Pied Piper had several hours with you though. He told me all about it.”

I paused, desperately trying to recall any memories from that night. But there was nothing. No flashes of violence or screams for help. Just a gaping black hole in my memory.

Now would be a good opportunity to weigh in, Sebastian. The asshole wasn’t anywhere around, though. He was probably hiding and feeling sorry for himself after how he treated my little lamb.

“Where can I find the Pied Piper?”

John shook his head. “He’ll find you when the time is right. Rest assured it’s soon.”

With a sinister grin, I started to sing “Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re singing a fucking nursery rhyme now?” John asked, his tone thick with disbelief.

“How does your garden grow?” I sang. “Lucky for you, you’ll get to help fertilize her garden.” I chuckled at my joke and then with a quick flick of my wrist, I peeled the flesh and muscle off the side of his face.

“Thanks for the information, motherfucker. This is for Ella.” I dragged the tool down his throat and ripped out his larynx as he screamed for the very last time.

Blood spurt across my once clean shirt as it soaked me to the skin.