Page 325 of Shadowman

“By…” I whisper, considering just falling onto one knee right here and now. But a ping from my pocket stops me.This is it…“The signal… Hold that thought, sweet fury.”

Yanking him along, I bring him up the steps and into the house. The door is unlocked, as expected. And the moment I set foot inside, I’m bombarded with treacherous memories. It’s not even the same place, but my parents live here; the people who brought me into this world, and then tortured me for years out of their own sick amusement.

They made me into what I am… Not quite evil, but certainly not good.

It’s the scent of them, I think. The same knickknacks triggering images of the abuse. I barely even notice that I’m having trouble walking until I collapse into a wall, clutching Byron’s hand to my chest while I struggle to breathe.

“Baby, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want,” he whispers, holding my face. “We can leave anytime, and you’ll still know they’re gone…”

“No,” I gasp, shaking my head. “I want to. I need to see…”

He still appears concerned for me, but he nods, helping me continue on. Giving me his strength to share.

We move to the bedroom at the far end of the flat, where they told us they’d be. And when I peer through the doorway, I have to gulp.

There are my parents, tied up back-to-back, mouths gagged with dirty socks. My chin lifts, and I exhale.

“Hey,” I murmur to Felix and Lem.

Felix shows me a kind smile. “Hi. How are you feeling?”

“Good,” I mumble. “Nervous…”

He nods in understanding.

“I haven’t seen them in over a decade…”

Lem pushes himself off the wall, stalking toward the doorway. “I’m going to keep watch.” He drops a large hand onmy shoulder, giving a supportive squeeze. And then he strides away.

Byron slips his fingers up into my shirt, trailing them along my lower back. “You want me to stay?”

Peeking at him, I take in his face. It’s the face of someone who will do literally anything for me, and it’s mesmerizing. “Only if you want to.”

His lips curve. “I’m here.”

“I’m… here.”

I take Byron’s hand once more, and nod at Felix. “I’m ready.”

Felix exhales heavily, his entire aura coming alive with the energy of The Carver. He looks different, moves different. He seems lit up, and yes, it’s a bit terrifying, but also sort of brilliant.

Let’s not pretend he isn’t doing this for himself, but it’s also for me. And I’m happy to give him this opportunity.

My mother and father are fighting against their ropes, mumbling and moaning as Felix rounds them with a kitchen knife.

“Would you like to say something to them?” he asks me, gray eyes dark, yet shining with encouragement.

My mouth slopes. “Actually… yes. I would.”

Positioned so that they both can see me, I cock my head, gaze narrowed. I feel a lot of things being next to them right now. Rage, pity, sadness… But most of all, I’m relieved. Because, in a matter of minutes, they’ll be dead. And I’ll still be alive, holding the hand of someone who loves me.

I feel victorious already.

“Hi, Mum and Dad.” I smirk at the fear in their eyes. “Remember me?”

The next morning, Byron and I sleep late. We’re exhausted from a long night of watching The Carver hack my parents to bits and discard them in a nearby pond.

He carved T’s all over their faces—for Trevel, obviously—and rather than giving them even the mild satisfaction of being posed, he simply scattered their parts all around, removing their teeth, and fingers and any distinguishing marks in order to delay identification.