Page 57 of Haunting the Hunter

I don’t respond, turning my back to him once again and going back to the table, my fingers delicately tracing over my options until I land on a hunting knife. Nice and simple.

I grab the chair in the corner and drag it over, placing it backward in front of him, sitting down as casually as the situation allows. I twirl the knife like a toy as I begin to speak, my voice disarmingly soft.

“I’m going to ask you some questions, and if I don’t like your answers, you lose a finger. Simple.”

His breath picks up, chest heaving at a rapid pace, eyes on the knife.

“When did you last have contact with the Covenant.” I don’t pose it as a question, but a demand.

He doesn’t respond.

“Tsk, tsk, Allen. You’re going to need to work with me here. The amount of pain you endure before your death is entirely up to you.” I flip the knife in my hand and stand, turning toward the table again,and stab it deep into the wood grain. It stays put while I reach into the duffel and pull out a cigar.

“You and my father partook in these often when I was a child—I remember it well. You both lit one in celebration after you brutally murdered that little boy.”

He stays silent and it’s beginning to irritate me, the fucking coward.

“You have to understand, Allen, that I’ve been hunting you all down for quite some time—an accidental death here, a suicide there. That is, until your daughter.” I say it in a cavalier tone while pulling out the cigar cutter and matches. His face turns red as I sit back down.

“I know you two weren’t close, but you must know I did it all for you.”

I place the cigar in my mouth and cut the tip, twirling the cutter on my finger.

“You are going to tell me what you know—we both know it’s just a matter of time.”

He finally speaks in a quiet voice, blood dripping down his face from his shattered nose. “Your father and I were friends… How could you turn on your own?”

I chuckle darkly in response, my eyes on the cigar. “I was never one of you. You people disgust me.”

“You were meant to take over after your parents!” He says it like I’ve personally betrayed him. “Why? All for a sister you barely spoke to?”

I surge to my feet, looming over him, one hand braced on the back of his chair. “Do.Not. Pretend you know me. Or my sister. I never gave a fuck about you people. You always took your obsession too far. My parents planned to sacrifice their fuckingdaughter. They got what they deserved.”

His face whitens as the realization hits him, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “It was you… their deaths. It was you…”

I lean closer to him, teeth bared as I cover his mouth and press the cigar to his cheek, burning the flesh as he groans into my hand.

“I didn’t come here to fucking monologue.”

I grab one of his hands that is bound to his side and slide the cigar cutter onto his middle finger. He jolts at the sudden contact of the cool metal against his skin.

“Your sister—she is doomed, Cade. She’s already marked. Her soul will be his regardless. What’s done is done. You don’t have to do this,” he says in a shaky voice, pleading with me already.

Chop.

Allen lets out a blood-curdling scream, shaking the chair as he thrashes in his bonds.

I grab his neck with a firm grip and lift his head, forcing him to meet my eyes. Tears and spittle drip from his eyes, nose, and mouth.

Disgusting.

“You pathetic son of a bitch.” I hiss the words. “Don’t you dare speak a fucking word about my sister. Who the fuck is leading you assholes!”

“You can’t stop it,” he says with a twisted smile, blood covering his teeth as he attempts a broken laugh while choking on his own blood. “Our God will come for his offering…” He gasps a rattling breath. “Not even you can kill a God, Cade.”

Deluded motherfucker. I can’t fucking stand him. Rage boils to the surface, making my hand shake as I grip his neck.

Stop. Stop. Stop. Fucking stop. Stay calm. Stay. Calm.