11. Chapter eleven
Chapter eleven
Max
T he next night, we hole up at our usual spot at the bar. The place’s packed tonight, noise thick, drunks slamming mugs and singing off-key on the crappy music.
A perfect cover for the talk we’re having.
And a perfect reason for me to keep my eyes on that filthy fucker from last night. The one who crawled out of Joyeus’ room like he belonged there.
He’s loud at the far end of the bar, loud enough that heads turn when he laughs. Boastful. Boisterous. Too fucking comfortable, that ridiculous goatee fucking mocking me. He’s somehow tied to the shit we found. I know it in my bones, but I don’t have all the pieces yet.
I do know those beady rat eyes of his keep tracking Kieran as he darts back behind the bar after greeting us, pouring drinks, serving his customers.
And I don’t like it one fucking bit.
Not. At. All.
Tass props her elbow on the counter on my left, chin in her palm, flipping her knife lazily in the other hand. “So Roe’s really not moving on this? Not even after we shoved the evidence in his face?”
I drown the last of my drink, glass hitting the bar hard, eyes still pinned on the bastard at the other end.
“He said it’s not enough,” I say, voicing his words, the very thing I already suspected. “It’s proof that we’re on the right track, but not enough to get her thrown off the council and into the Pit.”
Sami huffs a laugh, fiddling with another camera on my other side. He says this one can film things. “Not enough? You broke into her gilded nest and found the fucking machine.”
“Yeah. And Roe says without ironclad proof she’s forging identities, making disappearances official, the Nine won’t risk it.
” I bite down on the inside of my cheek, jaw tight, my eyes following Kieran as he puts a row of drinks onto a tray, too close to that fucker’s reach.
“She’ll just spin it, call it a backup. Responsible leadership.
Insurance in case the real press breaks down. ”
Tass snorts, drives her knife into the wood hard enough to carve a chunk out of it, then yanks it free with a chuckle. “Backup, my perfect ass.”
I barely hear her. My focus is locked on the other end of the bar where Goatee’s mouth’s moving too close to Kieran’s ear as he leers at him. Saying something to my man, making him flinch.
Oh, fuck no.
My pulse spikes, that beast in my chest clawing at its cage. One wrong move and I’ll cross the room, drag him outside, and let everyone watch while I tear his fucking throat out.
The look he throws my way is proof enough. He’s expecting it, wants it, waits for me to snap.
He’s lucky that Kieran moves over to us next, placing fresh drinks in front of us, or I would’ve snapped. My hand’s itching to touch his from where he has it on the bar right next to mine, my fingers fucking twitching, and the little smirk he gives me tells me he knows it.
“So. What’s up next in your grand plan to bring Joyeus down?”
He’s too damn loud. I flick a glare his way. He doesn’t back down, raises his brows with a smile curving around his lips. Those alluring, addictive lips.
“Easy,” I say, voice flat, “we keep digging. Joyeus didn’t get this far by being sloppy. She’s careful. Covers her tracks. We need something she can’t talk her way out of.”
Sami butts in, drumming a finger on his glass.
“Most of the tags you photographed had the Health and Medicine department stamped on them as their workplace. Might be staff from the clinic here, perhaps the northern research station. That’s no coincidence.
” He flicks a look at me. “Might be time for a trip north. And you’re due for another shot, anyway. ”
My jaw ticks. I say nothing, still too fucking agitated because of that fucker. The want to make someone bleed worms through me, slow and steady, like a muscle that remembers how to tear.
Tass grins, snapping her knife shut. “Oh, that’s right. Time for another poke in your pretty veins.”
I don’t miss Kieran’s frown, those blue eyes folding with worry and a question he won’t voice out loud.
“They want my blood every now and then for research,” I explain and slide my hand next up to his, pinkies touching, not being able to help myself.
The small contact is enough to remove some of the pent up frustration on an exhale.
“It’s standard procedure. I’m not the only Immune who ever lived.
Just the only one left breathing on this island. ”
Something flickers in his gaze. He leans in closer, voice lower now. “Back where I came from, I heard of others like you. Immune. But they took them away for testing, for a cure, and they never came back. My mom said they did… horrible things.”
Tass snickers. “And yet here you are, lover boy, cozying up to the local science project.”
Kieran shoots her a look, opens his mouth, but I cut him off before he can respond, grab the new drink he made. “What did he want?”
He knows exactly who I mean, flushes like he’s embarrassed, fingers worrying a napkin. “He… he asked if I’m as good as my mother. Said he can’t wait to find out. Said he’d buy me a drink, take me upstairs, ‘test’ me himself.”
The glass fucking shatters.
Kieran’s there before I even register it, fingers going for the shard buried in my palm. The pain is only half-there, a hot, distant pulse under the roar in my ears.
My gaze cuts to the bastard who thinks he can say shit like that to what’s mine and keep breathing. Most of the room glanced our way when the glass broke, quickly going back to their own business.
But not him. He keeps staring. Smirking.
I narrow my fucking eyes.
Kieran works the glass free, and I don’t so much as flinch, don’t dare to move. Then he presses the napkin he’d been holding against my hand.
“You’re such an idiot,” he mutters under his breath before disposing of the glass once he’s sure I keep holding on to the napkin.
“I’m going to kill him,” I grit through my teeth.
“No, you’re not.” Tass butts in with that maddeningly steady voice of reason. “There are other ways to deal with trash without turning this place into a massacre.”
“But bloodshed is so much more fun,” I mutter when that brute stands up.
Goatee actually has the fucking guts to come this way. Doesn’t realize he’s walking straight into his own death sentence.
His buddies and him push through the crowd, fucking grins on their ugly faces, boots pounding like a war drum. The air changes with them. Conversations falter, laughter snaps off, the whole bar sinking into a hush, waiting for the show they know is about to start.
They stop right next to us and his eyes land on Kieran. That smirk spreads, rotten yellow teeth on show. “So you’ll bend only for him, huh? The champion? I hope he didn’t break you in too much. I like my holes tight.”
My entire fucking body tenses.
Tass’s fingers clamp down on my forearm, hard enough to bruise, and my gaze snaps to her. “He’s goading you,” she hisses, voice only for me. “I think that’s the point. Push you into snapping. Put you back in the Pit. That’s what he wants. What Joyeus and Noura want.”
My jaw grinds. The muscle in my neck twitches. The itch under my skin claws , hungry, begging me to end him right here. But I listen to her. I hold. For now.
My stare goes back to him. Cold, merciless, promising.
“Get our colleagues,” I mutter to her. “Let’s deal with this trash your way.” It’s my way of telling her I won’t snap, that I’ll keep my cool.
Her eyes widen before she lets me go and scurries off fast, slipping through the crowd.
Goatee smirks wider at our little exchange. “What? No snarky comeback? No bite tonight, Max? Thought you were the Pit’s monster. Guess your pretty boy got you tamed.” He leans in, voice dropping filthier. “Bet that ass is the only thing keeping your teeth in check.”
Yeah. No.
I rise. The last scraps of noise in the bar dying instantly, leaving a heavy silence. All eyes on us. He doesn’t cower though. If anything, he comes closer.
Tass was right. This is their plan. Goading me so I get sent back into the Pit.
He leans in, breath sour. “You think you’re something ’cause you’re Immune? Us Touched, we’re stronger than you, Max. If it’ll come to it, I’ll put you down myself. No ring, no rules. Just you and me.”
The cackle that comes out of my mouth is maniacal.
“You might have the heightened strength, the heightened senses,” I say, leaning forward until my mouth is an inch from his ear.
“But why do you think you fucking infectees can’t beat me?
Because you have no fucking control, you rotten, half-feral mutt.
You have nothing to fight for. No future. You’re already dead.”
That does it. He shoves me and I stagger one deliberate step, then grin up at him, slow and lethal.
“Fuck you, Max. I could wipe the floor with you and you know it. Immune or not, you’re still flesh and blood. You’re not immune to blades or bullets. Neither is that little boy of yours when I get my hands on him.”
“Fucking dare me,” I whisper, low so only he hears, the corner of my mouth kicking up into a smirk. “ Dare threaten him again. Dare touch what’s mine. Dare try me, and find out exactly what happens when you push me.”
He bares his teeth. “Fuck you. I’ll rip your throat out, leave you bleeding where you stand… and I’ll make sure he watches every second. Fuck him on your rotting corpse.”
His words might as well have been music.
I straighten, pull myself back into the room, and raise my voice because I have to play my cards right. “Did you just threaten me? Pity, I never caught your name. I’d have to care as much as you clearly do about me to bother learning it.”
The whole bar hears it, exactly like I planned.
“ Of course I fucking threatened you, ” he hisses, claws of rage under his words. “You want me fucking quiet? Try me and I’ll make you wish you’d never opened your mouth.”
“Did you hear that?” I call to Tass as she returns, flanked by a half-dozen Watchers on the clock.