Page 114 of Hurt

Which was precisely why Elijah was holding it.

Counting down in his head, he nodded to Jamie. With a final longing glance at the canister, he pulled his .454 Casull from the shoulder harness and reversed his grip. With very little effort, he used the weapon to break the living room window of the one-story suburban home.

The moment the glass shattered, Elijah pulled the pin and tossed the canister into the house. Elijah grabbed Jamie, and they both dove to the ground, slapping gloved hands over their ears. There was a long moment of silence—a seemingly endless wait that made sweat prickle on the back of Elijah’s neck. Was it a dud? Their entire plan hinged on this moment. If they failed, everything would be—

An explosion of light and sound rocked the house. It felt like the very foundation shook. Glass shattered and rained down on them as the Flash Bang ricocheted around the small living room. Even with his hands over his ears, Elijah could still feel the effects. There was a faint ringing in his ears as he sat up.

He knew only too well just what a Flash Bang felt like. Three years ago, Jamie had come across one. The lure of pulling something he shouldn’t was too strong, and he set off the Flash Bang in the Weaver mansion.

Wallace had Jamie doing handstands for weeks as punishment.

The moment the cacophony quieted, the assassins were moving. Jumping through the window, Elijah blinked until his eyes adjusted to the gloom. Smoke from the blast coiled with dust and debris swirling through the air.

Infrared had told them there were only four people in the residence. Two in the back bedroom and two in the forward section of the house. Jamie sprinted past Elijah to the back of the house, gun out.

“Non-lethal!” Elijah shouted after him.

Two men were on the floor clutching their heads, curled in on themselves. Flash Bangs were technically not lethal, but close contact with them could ignite a fire or cause serious injury. Ideally, the bright light and loud sound would disorient a person enough for a non-lethal apprehension.

Elijah grabbed the closest man and dragged his wrists behind his back, securing them with a zip tie. Ripping a rag out of his back pocket Elijah stuffed it into his mouth deep enough that he couldn’t bite down on the Cyanide capsule he had lodged in a fake tooth.

All of their efforts to capture a Vega for information had been thwarted by those little poison capsules. As a general rule, the Weavers liked to do things quietly, but desperate times called for explosive measures. Thanks to Jackson, they were able to get their hands on a couple of Flash Bangs, and this plan was born.

While the first Vega gagged around the rag, Elijah moved to the second. He had already bitten down and cracked the tooth by the time he got to his side. Tossing his dying body to the side, he returned to his first victim.

Sitting him up, he checked to make sure he was still breathing before turning to see Jamie dragging two bodies behind him.

“Hah, I got two. I win.” He dropped the limp bodies on the floor. “This one has an extra hole, but I don’t think he’ll mind.”

Elijah looked down at the bound and gagged Vega Cabal members Jamie had brought in. One was bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound in his abdomen. He seriously doubted the man would survive the trip back to Weaver Estate.

“I’ll give you one and a half. It doesn’t count if he dies.”

“Picky.” Jamie waved a hand as they trundled the three out the door and into their waiting vehicle.

Tucked into the backwoods of the Weaver Estate was a storage shed. Made of warped plywood and rotting structural supports, the thing was only standing out of sheer spite. If you managed to get in past the front door without bringing the whole thing down on your head, you’d find about what you’d expect for a disused shed in the middle of nowhere. Several of the shelves still had rusted tools on them, and a peg board had peeled from the wall doubling over itself.

Leaves and other forest detritus covered the dirt floor. Take three steps into the shed, and your foot would hit something hard and hollow.

The trap door swung open on noisy hinges, revealing a set of cement steps leading into the earth. Descending the narrow staircase in darkness was your only choice—there was no light until you reached the bottom, where a sophisticated-looking door opened to a perfectly square room made of cinderblocks.

This place didn’t have a name. You didn’t name a place like this.

Elijah was leaning against the wall. It was cold, and the walls dripped with condensation. He hated this place. Everyone hated this place.

Even Jamie was being strangely quiet. He was perched in the corner to the right of the door, up on his toes with his elbows resting on bent knees. His stare had been unwavering—feral eyes blending in the with icy gloom of the room. Jamie watched the two men tied to chairs as if his stare alone could pin them in place.

The Vega Cabal members had not attempted to say anything around their makeshift gags. While not of the upper echelon of the Vega hierarchy, they were more than just grunts. High enough to be useful, but not enough to be dangerous. Keeping them alive this long had been a feat in itself. Now they just had to get them to talk.

Torturing someone for information was hit or miss. Out of desperation to make the pain stop, people would tell you anything you wanted to hear. True or not. Elijah found that fear was a far better tool. Bribery better.

He had seen Roland interrogate quite a few people over the years. It was always a brutish affair. There were no tools or unique mechanisms. Roland had nothing on the Spanish Inquisition. But what he did have was a punch that could break all the bones in your face and a penetrating stare that never wavered. It was effective.

Which was why Elijah was surprised when it wasn’t Roland who walked through the door, but the elder Weaver.

Grant didn’t spare a glance at either cousin. He strode into the darkened room with a purpose.

Withdrawing the knife on his thigh, he slashed it across the Vega on the rights throat. A thin line of red opened. It grew wider as the blood began spilling out and splattered to the floor.