Page 24 of Looking Grimm (Marionette #4)

My return trip to the Capitol would not have been complete without a stopover in the fanciest holding cell in the city. Despite being topped off with vital fluids, I felt drained. I had no concept of time or how long it had been since I’d arrived here. The hunger gnawing between bouts of nausea reminded me I was past due for at least two meals, but even that didn’t have as strong a pull on me as the exhaustion that had me laid out flat on the wall-mounted bed with my arm thrown over my eyes.

As tired as I was, sleep evaded me. My brain churned through thoughts like a meat grinder, none of them good. Holland’s itinerary for the upcoming days served as a daunting play-by-play for the end of my life. In isolation at Thorngate, I would have entirely too much time to think about every despicable thing I’d ever done and regret it all, but no amount of apologies or regret would change the guilty conviction when I made it to court. Then, death. A bloody, public spectacle in front of a mass of people who would be glad to see me gone.

Testing my fingers caused my bandaged hand to twinge. With jagged scars from Jax’s panther attack dragging down my left arm and wrist and now a slice across my right palm, I was growing a collection of near-mortal wounds.

The smell of smoke clung to my hair, and I desperately needed a shower. The cell’s en suite had everything I needed to scrub off the blood and soot, plus a towel I could fashion into a noose if things got too dire. My nose wrinkled at the thought. If I had the courage to kill myself, I would already be dead. Fantasizing about it now was about as much fun as endless edging.

It took several more minutes for me to drag myself off the white-sheeted mattress and stand. I shuffled toward the bathroom, still wearing the scrubs and grippy socks provided by the infirmary. Before I made it to the doorway, a mechanical beep announced the arrival of a visitor.

I turned to see the barred door slide aside. Holland walked in, wearing a different outfit from the last time I’d seen her. Night must have come and gone and given her time to go home and change. She held a pair of handcuffs and swung them almost provocatively around one finger.

“Face the wall, Mister Farrow,” she said.

No preamble, no explanation, not that I needed one.

“Can I rinse off first?” I jerked my thumb toward the open bathroom. “No showers in solitary.”

She shook her head. “Justice won’t be stalled, Mister Farrow. And Thorngate is packed full of filthy criminals. You’ll fit right in.” A wave of her handcuff-toting hand encouraged me to turn toward the wall.

I hesitated, puzzled by the shift in tone from our last conversation. Did she have a personality transplant overnight? If so, it was no kind of upgrade.

Reluctantly, I moved to stand with my palms and chest pressed against the painted cinderblock wall.

The investigator pressed in behind me, shoving me hard against the wall and then kicking my legs apart like she intended to frisk me, too. The cuffs clicked down around my left wrist which was tugged down and across my back to join with my right. I had limited experience with prisoner transport, but this felt different. Holland felt different, too. She was less polished, more abrupt and almost gruff when she grabbed me by the cuffs and collar and pinned me to the wall.

I grunted a weak protest.

Her presence at my back became oppressive. It seemed to grow larger and taller than even her high heels accounted for. And, when her face crowded in beside mine, it wasn’t her face at all.

“I hear you’ve been looking for me,” Grimm rumbled.

Time must have stopped because my heart went still in my chest, and I couldn’t breathe.

He used his grip on the ring around my neck and my bound wrists to pull me back then shove me forward again, hard enough that my cheekbone cracked against the cement. His fingers tightened at the back of my neck, drawing the collar tighter until it choked me.

“What did you so desperately need to say to me, Fitch?” Grimm’s voice and proximity made me shudder. “Is it about Donovan? I’ll have you know he would have been safe with me. You’re the one who put his fate in the Capitol’s hands.”

Pressure built behind my eyes, and I tried to buck back, but he didn’t yield.

“You could have come to me like a man, but it’s always the same, isn’t it? Taking things in your own hands, spreading your shit all over town and dragging everyone into it. This time, you signed your name on a goddamn corpse?” He barked a laugh. “Why must you always be so dramatic?”

I couldn’t speak with my brain full of blood and empty of air. I fought for a short, stuttering breath.

“You killed one of my best men,” Grimm seethed, hot and harsh against my ear. “And Isha was like a mother to you.”

“She used me,” I wheezed. “You all did.”

He snorted. “Of course. A weapon as fine as you shouldn’t be left to rust. It must be kept sharp and should be employed as often as possible.”

I felt like I was hanging by the shock collar, slowly strangling. My hands fisted uselessly at my back, and I couldn’t feel my feet. I wasn’t even sure they were still on the ground.

Finally, Grimm released me, and I fell back with a gasp. I hit the floor on my ass as tingling feeling surged back into my limbs. Whatever he said next was drowned out by the sudden influx of blood and oxygen.

My eyelids fluttered, and I tried to work my way to standing. I didn’t like him towering over me, full of rage and scorn, but my efforts were too clumsy to be effective. When I made it onto my knees, Grimm caught me by the chin and tipped my face up to meet his glare.

“But you’ve lost your edge and have become disposable. It’s a pity, really. You’re so young.” He clucked his tongue. “I thought we’d have at least another decade together. ”

His calloused fingers dug into my jawbone and made it hard to respond as I said, “I didn’t wanna say shit to you, you self-important bastard. I was looking for you so I could kill you.”

Grimm’s laugh in response was a warning about the action that followed. He kicked out, sinking the toe of his boot into my gut.

All the air I’d managed to recover whooshed out as I doubled over. If I’d had any food on my belly, it would have made a speedy exit, too. Instead, I coughed and dry heaved while lying curled on the floor.

Overhead, Grimm poised to kick me again. “Bold words for someone in your condition,” he remarked. “You look held together with spite and stitches. One I can respect; the other makes you look weak.”

I wondered how he’d gotten in here uninvited and undetected. His stint masquerading as Maximus Lyle no doubt made him privy to all manner of Capitol secrets and weaknesses he was able to exploit.

Between his legs, I saw the cell door standing open as an invitation to run. This was far from the final standoff I’d imagined, but it was better to escape and live to fight another day. I collected scraps of energy, ready to channel them into a bolt toward the exit. Before I could right myself, commotion from the hallway stopped me cold. Voices clamored closer, punctuated by shouts of alarm. A crack of gunfire split the air, and Grimm smirked.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“We’ve seized the Capitol,” he replied. “A decisive move in a centuries-long war.”

A chilling scream echoing from outside gave credence to Grimm’s claim. I imagined chaos unfolding in the near distance. Since the prison break, this had been the plan. The new recruits gave the Bloody Hex the numbers they needed to stage a full-blown revolution. Who better to send onto the battlefield of the Capitol building while Grimm amused himself tormenting me?

I tuned my ears to the approaching noise. Footsteps and a scuffling, sliding sound preceded the arrival of a flock of gang members dragging an investigator’s suited corpse down the hall. They dropped the bloodied body against the wall, turned away from me so I couldn’t see his face. Fortunately, his buzzed hair the same muddy brown as his suit made him unknown to me.

No sooner had I sighed relief than did I wonder why. I should have been saying good riddance to the government employees currently plotting my execution. They were no better than Grimm and his ilk.

The group of Hex members filed into the cell. They took turns aiming disparaging glances my way as they formed a line against the far wall. There, they stood with their hands clasped behind their backs and their feet set shoulder-width apart like a practiced military regiment.

In response to their collective scorn, I drew up onto my knees again.

Grimm reached over and ruffled my hair. “Don’t look so concerned,” he said.

I swayed away and scowled up at him as he explained, “Your role in things hasn’t changed. Much. You’re still going to die but, this time, you’ll have company.”

His confidence unnerved me as another pained cry echoed down the hall outside .

“What company?” I asked.

My lack of awareness of time created new concerns. What if the Hex hopefuls caught more than investigators in their net? Nash might still be here with an order out for his death.

Grimm drew a deep breath, trying to appear grandiose but mostly looking like a blowhard as he launched into a speech. “During my previous rise to power, I believed Maximus to be dead.” His gaze landed on me, withering. “Now I’m taking no chances. He will be executed alongside his daughter, and the end of their reign will signal the beginning of mine.”

The rookies murmured approval, highlighting what must have been Grimm’s biggest problem with me. He liked Yes Men. People who nodded along to whatever bullshit he spouted and congratulated his deranged thoughts.

He told me once that I came into his care too late in life. Too old to be properly molded. But it was more than that. These were fully grown adults swearing allegiance to his criminal empire. They were willing to kill for Grimm. Probably die for him, too. And, while I’d taken my share of lives in his name, I’d done none of it willingly.

While I frowned, Grimm continued. “I could blame you for my abrupt and unceremonious dismissal.” A fancy way to describe him scurrying out of the Capitol with his tail between his legs after I released Maximus from his cellar prison.

“But this is better in a way,” he said. “This requires neither illusions nor disguises, and all the peoples’ praise will be mine alone.”

At that, I could no longer keep quiet. “You think they’re gonna praise you for wiping out their police force and replacing them with a bunch of shit criminals?” I scoffed. “They hate you now, and they’ll hate you even more then. Trust me; I would know.”

Grimm lunged in and grabbed the shock collar, using it to haul me forward till my chest hit his knees. “I think ,” he began, his voice a hiss. “That you are a weak-minded child, incapable of seeing my vision. That’s why you, and others like you, must be culled. The Lyles’ deaths will be a testament to my power, and yours will serve as a warning to those who intend to defy me.”

The disbelief that had filled me before erupted in a harsh laugh. “People think we’re on the same side, you pompous ass. They’re not gonna get the message.”

More footsteps and the swish I now recognized as a body being dragged across the low-pile carpet came from beyond the open cell door. The newbies lined against the wall turned, and I traced their attention to a second suited corpse being piled atop the first. This one had her face toward me. It was a young woman with cracked glasses and blood leaking from a cavernous gash in the middle of her forehead.

Did they intend to murder every investigator in the building? What about support staff? Cafeteria workers? Janitors? My mouth went dry. It would be a hell of a body count.

Grimm pulled on the collar until the nape of my neck throbbed. I scrambled to get my feet under me before he shoved me back onto my tailbone again.

“Just kill him already, boss,” one of the rookies chimed from the doorway.

“You wanna have a go, hot shot?” I snapped out of reflex more than reason. Schooling the lot of them at the Bitters’ End had been a vastly different situation than the one we were in now. They could beat me bloody with no magic at all or find the shock collar remote and pump me full of electricity until I exploded like a transformer blowing.

“Who gets his spot?” someone else asked. They were so tightly packed in the adjoining hall that I couldn’t tell who spoke.

Turning aside, Grimm stroked his beard in exaggerated contemplation. “Let me think.” His brows knit together over his pale blue eyes as he glanced at me. “How many people have you killed, Marionette?”

I clenched my fists, wishing I could hide the strings tattooed on my fingers. The answer was as plain as those bands of black ink.

“Thirty,” a deep voice rumbled. That one, I recognized.

A broad-chested bald man shoved through the crowd. He had a body draped over one shoulder which he let drop into the space formed as the newbies scattered. Vinton Everly’s mouth pressed a tight line as he glowered at me.

There were more than thirty now. Jacoby Thatcher, the rogue inmate at Thorngate, Avery’s bank robbers, Sleeping Beauty, Jette Black and York Tompkins, Charlie, the Everett twins, Isha, and the attack squad sent to the Bitters’ End including Avery himself… They all added to a seemingly impossible tally.

“Very well.” Grimm waved a hand toward the Hex members. “Whichever of you is the first to take thirty lives will be invited to take Mister Farrow’s place.”

Clammy sweat beaded across my chest and back. I felt faint again and queasy as ever .

The rookies muttered amongst themselves until Grimm called for silence by clearing his throat.

“Better get started,” he said.

They dispersed, taking off in opposite directions down the hallway. Vinton remained. His beady black eyes bored into me.

Grimm addressed the necromancer as he nodded toward me. “He mentioned wanting to rinse off. Perhaps you could do something about that?”

Vinton dipped his head, ever ready to accept orders.

“Have some fun while you’re at it,” Grimm told him. “Don’t hold back.”

My heart lurched into my throat, silencing any protest I might have given. The threat was obvious, but in case I’d missed it, Grimm clarified by adding, “He only needs to be alive enough to die.”

With that, Grimm exited the cell and closed the door, locking Vinton and me inside. His words resounded in my brain, drumming up panic. Left in handcuffs and magically neutered, I had no hope of self-defense. This wasn’t a fight, it was a beating, one Vinton would relish judging by the way he cracked his knuckles as he strutted toward me.

I shrunk from the bald man’s approach and nearly toppled over as he knotted his fist in my hair. My knees dragged the floor, and my bound hands wrenched helplessly as he hauled me toward the bathroom.