Page 31 of Darkest Before Dawn (His Perfect Darkness #2)

“Oh gods,” I guffaw, looking around. Hamish isn’t in my line of sight, but he’s somewhere in this cave. “Mina, you’re on speakerphone.”

“I don’t care if Butler Daddy hears me. He looks so deliciously stern in all his photos. Like he’s the type to keep a stiff upper?—”

“Mina!”

“Lip! I was going to say lip. And then I was going to wonder what else is stiff. Anyway, back to the lighthouse. It’s awesome.”

“I’m glad you like it. I know you always wanted one.” She mentioned it during one of our rambling conversations.

“It’s better than I imagined. There’s no one around for a hundred miles. But it’s completely modern inside. And you should see my computer room. All the latest tech.”

“Good. You deserve it.” Buying her a lighthouse was the least I could do after what Rex did to her.

“Best thing is, it’s stocked with enough food for a year. I never have to leave my cave of wonders.”

I smile. I’m half asleep, listening to Mina babble happily.

“And while we’re on the topic, how does Rex like your cave of wonders?”

I come awake with a start. “What?” Is she talking about Rex’s lair? Or is it meant to be a euphemism for my vagina? Either way, “No comment.”

“The sex is that good, huh?”

I’m way too groggy to have this conversation. I tell her this, and she sniggers. “Go get some rest. I’m gonna keep digging, and I’ll let you know as soon as I find anything.”

I’ve already let my eyes close. I tell myself I’ll only rest them for a moment?—

Rex

I’ve spent years hunting the men who’ve escaped justice, cockroaches who fall through the cracks of the law and the courts. Time and experience have taught me, again and again, that the most guilty escape justice.

Inara thinks the system works, but men like St. James and I know better. We are among the worst criminals.

But sometimes it takes a criminal to catch a criminal. And a murderer to execute justice. St. James and the Devil were kind enough to offer me a private space to question my victim.

Ted made the mistake of frightening my wife. What happens next will be up to him.

“We have him in a room.” A Fraternitas member leads me down a set of stone steps.

He has long, black hair tied back in a ponytail.

There’s little light in this gloomy, underground space, but when my guide walks under a hanging lantern, I recognize him from the drone footage—this is the biker who helped Inara escape me.

We reach an open door guarded by Kaiser and Jaeger, who greet me with a nod of their chins. When I look back, my long-haired guide has disappeared.

Kaiser notes the direction of my glare. “Do you have a problem with Asmodeus?”

“No, as long as he stays away from my wife.”

“Asmodeus has an elita of his own,” Jaeger tells me. “She is his sole obsession.”

He’s referring to the Fraternitas’ tradition of claiming a “chosen one” or elita . An intriguing concept, but not one I want to learn more about right now.

I ignore him and enter the torture chamber.

While the stone walls of the hallway were a rough, gray-green stone, this room is made entirely of polished granite. It has a mausoleum-like look.

Ted is strapped to a gurney in the middle of the room. The gas still has him knocked out. My lip curls when I see him and take in his stench. We’re all animals underneath our civilized trappings. And I’m an apex predator.

“We’ll leave you to it,” Kaiser says. “St. James wants us guarding the main door, but holler if you need us.”

“Understood.”

“Oh.” He heads to the wall and plants a tattooed hand on the corner of a rectangular stone. With a strong push, a drawer pops out. I catch a metallic gleam inside. “You have full use of the room and everything in it.”

“Thank you. And give my thanks to the Devil.”

The twins leave without another word.

I circle around Ted. His mouth is slack, his pulse steady. I flick his ear to check if he’s faking unconsciousness. He’s still under, but the gas will wear off soon. His eyelids flutter like he’s having bad dreams.

“I appreciate an invitation to the party,” an accented voice announces as I sense Victor’s arrival. The tall assassin slips in the door.

“Nice, very nice,” he says, looking around the sinister room with satisfaction. “They have a good setup here. Everything we need.” He sidles to the open drawer to examine the metal implements. “Good selection. And slick floors make it easy to mop up blood.”

There’s an incinerator down here, too, for easy disposal of remains, but we’re not going to need it tonight.

“We’re just going to ask him questions,” I remind the white-blond assassin.

Victor pauses the dancing of his hands over the torturer’s tools. “Just talk?”

“I promised my wife I wouldn’t kill him.”

“Pain doesn’t have to equal death.” Victor raises a bone saw.

“She won’t like it.”

“She’ll never know.” But he replaces the saw. “The things we do for love.”

“Happy wife, happy life.”

“So I have found,” he agrees.

I didn’t realize Victor was married, but now that he’s let the information slip, I wonder if the dark-haired woman I saw him dancing with at our engagement ball was his wife. Hamish will know.

Ted groans and stirs.

“Shall we?” Victor holds up a black skull mask.

“I have my own.” I turn the faceplate of my helmet opaque as Ted rouses. He winces and mumbles something.

He opens his eyes, squinting in the gloom. “What. . . where am I?”

I step into his line of vision, and he comes awake quickly, recoiling and thrashing in his restraints. “Who are you? What’s going on?”

“Your worst nightmare,” I snarl, the helmet speaker distorting my voice. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about the Bondage Killer.”

“Oh gods,” Ted whimpers. “What is this place?”

Victor moves to stand beside me. The skull mask covers his face, but I can hear the glee in his voice as he says, “Welcome to the Abyss.”