Chapter Twenty-Nine Darius #2
I chuckle lightly. “I’m so glad I have your attention and have given you some idea of what it felt like to come upon my female wandering the streets of Sundale with dart wounds in her back and acid crawling up the backs of her legs.”
“This female has no value to me.”
I smile. “Then you’ll have no problem with me torturing her. Who knows? Maybe I’ll break both of her legs. I am, after all, learning from the best.”
“What do you want?” he snaps at me.
“A deal.”
“You can’t possibly. You could never trust that I would simply give you my word not to retaliate. You must know that I will end you and your female for daring to threaten me.”
My cheek tics. I blast his female with a harder voltage than any I’ve used thus far. She releases a wild shriek and then quiets abruptly, now unconscious. “Hmm. That may have been a little harsher than I intended.”
“I will tear you apart.”
“The funny thing is that your tone and your threats are rendered somewhat comical by the fact that this shitty burner makes you sound like a chipmunk. Now, this is how this is going to go. Are you listening?”
“I’m listening.”
“Sweet Lemlem is alive—did you know that was her name? I certainly didn’t until today. Luckily, it’s written on her little name tag, which might prove to be a good thing for her, as I don’t know what condition her brain will be in when she wakes up, but I don’t really care about that.”
“You stupid, insolent motherfuc—”
“Now, I have no way of guaranteeing that you’ll leave me, Monika, and Monika’s family alone after I release Lemlem, so I really only have two options—well, three, if I’m being creative.
I could kill her in a simple act of retribution—it would bring me some satisfaction, but it would put Monika and me in a difficult position.
“Option two: I could release her to you and hope you’d keep your word.
But that wouldn’t be enough, as you’ve accurately pointed out.
So I could release every piece of information I know about keys and the villains you keep hidden, our weapons and how you plan to use them to build the Elders’ gate and unleash hell on Earth.
I have Monika’s photos and the Wyvern’s testimony too.
Then I could tell the world about you and our little coffee shop owner.
See what these pathetic, fickle, violent humans do with the information.
She might never be safe again. At the very least, she’d be hounded by reporters, possibly detained by the SDD and the COE, who would assume she’d be close to you, know your whereabouts and your plans.
It would ruin her life in one easy move. ”
He starts to interject, but I speak louder: “Or, third—and this is my most creative idea so far—I could sell her into the black market sex trade. I’m sure a woman who’s fucked the Marduk would likely fetch a high price.
Since you’d have to spend the next months or even years tracking her down, it would buy Monika and me a little time . . .”
“You motherfucker,” he hisses. “None of those are—”
“If we go with option two, I could keep all of those pretty little pieces of information to myself as collateral, and you and Lemlem could ride off into the sunset . . .”
“Or I could find Monika now and tear off her arms.”
“Lemlem would die first. And very painfully, I might add. Do you know what electrical currents do to the human brain? Not pretty,” I tsk. “Not a pretty sight at all.”
“I will not let you threaten me like this. The woman means nothing,” he roars.
“Oooh, wrong answer. You’re going to have a difficult time recovering Lemlem or obtaining Monika locked down within the heart of the COE building. Until then, I think I’ll keep Lemlem here in their labs for safekeeping,” I laugh, lying through my teeth as to our whereabouts.
“They would never let you harm a civilian.”
“I’m Taranis, sweetheart. I can do whatever I please. I’ll tell Lemlem you say hello when she wakes up—if she wakes up. It’s unclear. She is awfully still . . .”
“You—”
I hang up on him just as I turn into the parking garage of my building.
It takes me no time at all to drag Lemlem into the penthouse elevator, into my flat, over the new brightly colored foyer rug, and into my office—the only room in my penthouse still devoid of color, and the only one still biometrically coded and steel reinforced.
Of course the Marduk could get in if he wanted, particularly with Three’s help, but my alarms are all active, including on my phone, which should give me enough time to return once I know he’s coming.
Not that I suspect he’ll think to come here.
The more likely outcome—the one I’m betting on—is that he will have Three tear apart the COE, where we’ll be waiting for them.
I relish the thought as I bring Lemlem to the manacles I mounted to my ceiling.
The chains dangle low. I spent time thinking about the exact type of manacles I’d use and decided that, since I didn’t know the full extent of the powers of Marduk’s minions, I’d use all of them.
So after the manacles, I fix her wrists in rope, then duct tape, then plastic zip ties, then in handcuffs I stole from the COE.
The mount to the ceiling is made of iron, and the chain that connects her hands passes through it first. Because she’s still passed out, she’s draped all over my floor now that I’ve moved my desk out of the way.
I keep my chair out of her reach as well.
If she does wake, she’ll have no choice but to stand or possibly lose her hands—she won’t have much circulation with them affixed as they are and stretched above her head.
She might not even end the day with working hands if she doesn’t wake up soon, but that’s not my problem.
I promised the Marduk his female in exchange for mine’s safety, but an eye for an eye is my motto and my woman was burned with acid and fire, half drowned, beaten, scraped, and shot at—electrocuted and ruined hands is the least I can do to reciprocate.
I leave her draped over the floor. No water. No food. I check her pockets and she doesn’t have a phone on her. So I leave a note taped to the inside of my office door before I shut it, lock it, and leave the same way I came in.
I head to the COE building, enter the compound, as planned, through a service entrance, and what I find there pleases me.
“Has he arrived?” I ask, slipping from my vehicle to the tune of SDD armed guards nervously approaching.
Their boots make muffled thumps against the concrete below the COE campus.
A male guard with skin as white as mayonnaise steps forward to meet me. Blech. I hate these goons.
“We’re being circled, but they haven’t made contact yet, sir.” Sir. My eye twitches when he calls me that.
“How many, soldier?”
“We aren’t sure. One of them is using a cloaking shield to muddle our direct lines of sight, a lot like what happened the last time the COE was under attack and the Wyvern and Mr. Singkham were kidnapped.
What we’ve picked up on the cameras is that there are either four or six of them.
Two males and either two or four females. ”
“One of them is the Marduk, I’m assuming?”
“We haven’t been able to detect his presence yet.”
“Hmm.” I don’t like that. I want this done quickly.
We take the elevator up to the ground floor.
The campus has been cleared. I’m shocked the COE was willing to go to such great lengths to assist me in this assassination—I mean, apprehension—especially since our recent breakup, but I’m guessing, based on what they know about the Marduk and his army, it was deemed a worthwhile endeavor.
Mr. Singkham meets me in the central lobby of the primary building, black-clad officers fanning out behind him like a flock of geese and he, the mother hen. “We have a sighting, but the Marduk seems to be retreating.”
I snarl, “And the others?”
“Advancing.”
“Fuck.” I come to a complete stop, the lights of the large marble lobby flickering as a thought comes to me. “Do you have descriptions of the ones advancing?”
As Mr. Singkham speaks, he gestures to the woman on his left.
She holds up her wrist. There’s a small tablet affixed there in black armor.
“We’re having trouble seeing who is advancing with the naked eye.
We had a similar issue during the COE breach six months ago when the Wyvern and I were abducted from the premises by the one called Three.
We learned then that the distortion was being caused by this female.
She is number Thirty-Eight.” The woman pulls up an image of a curvy, freckled female at Mr. Singkham’s signal.
I memorize it. It’s not much to go on, grainy as it is and taken through a smoky haze, but whatever. White. Dirty blonde, maybe brunette. If I have to kill several white blondish females before getting to the right one, so be it.
“However, we learned that the illusion doesn’t affect camera footage.
They must also know that, because they’ve been doing a good job of remaining in motion.
So far we’ve been able to take pictures of three of them, excluding the female.
We have this male,” he says, drawing up a picture of a male with pale skin and bright-yellow hair.
“We don’t have an ID for him. And these two females.
” He shows me pictures that make me smile—well, not so much smile as bite my front teeth together to show all my fangs.
“Fantastic.”
“Fantastic?”
“Bia and the Meinad.”
“We had suspicions but weren’t yet able to identify them. The pictures are so out of focus . . .”
“It’s them.” I relax my shoulders. “I saw them recently. They almost killed me and I almost let them kill Monika. But I’ve learned a few tricks since then.” I stand up straight and roll out my neck. “Open the front doors.”
“We aren’t ready to attack yet,” the female says. She must be the commander here.