ROMAN #2
Quinn’s pupils blow wide, swallowing the colour of her eyes.
The tremor that begins in her shoulders spreads fast down her arms, through her core until her entire frame is shaking.
Her breathing turns ragged and laboured like she’s drowning in thin air.
A thin line of drool slips from the corner of her mouth.
It almost looks like a seizure. Then the convulsions taper.
Her muscles begin to slacken as resistance drains from her posture as if someone has pulled the tension out of her one fibre at a time.
Her head droops slightly and her jaw hangs loose.
Sweat beads along her hairline and tracks down her temple and I smile as I watch the serum settle.
Riggs shivers.
“I still hate that stuff,” Victor mutters.
“What is it?” Felix questions.
“Truth serum,” I reply, not paying attention to their shocked faces. I already did this dance with Victor. He can fill in the blanks. I crouch slightly so I am eye level with Quinn.
“Who contacted you?” My voice comes out bored even though I am anything but and her lips part before she can stop them.
“Fisher,” she breathes. The word slips out of her like it doesn’t belong to her anymore. Her eyes widen as if she is shocked at how easily she betrayed him.
Or herself.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Felix go rigid but I barely register it. Because I already knew. I felt it the moment Fae disappeared and Fisher conveniently followed.
“Why?” I press.
There is a pause in her response before Quinn’s body convulses violently.
Her spine arches off the chair as a broken scream tears from her throat.
Her fingers curl in on themselves unnaturally.
Her nails bite into her palms as if she can claw the answer back inside her.
Victor swears under his breath as Atlas takes a step forward before stopping himself.
Quinn’s head thrashes once, then twice, as her pupils blow wider and her breath shreds from her lungs.
A sharp, guttural cry rips free as her muscles seize again.
It’s not like her reaction from before; this isn’t the initial shock. This is punishment.
A slow smile spreads across my face.
“What th—" Riggs looks between us confused before being cut off again by another guttural scream.
“She’s trying to withhold the information,” I say calmly. “The serum doesn’t like that.”
Quinn screams again, so much higher this time that it sounds raw and animalistic. Her body spasms hard enough that the bolted chair even rattles against the floor and tears stream down her bloodshot face as her mouth opens helplessly.
“Stop!” she chokes as her voice splinters. “Stop—"
“You can make it stop,” I reply evenly. “You just need to tell me why Fisher wanted you to trap Fae.”
Her jaw trembles. Her body jerks once more as a violent ripple runs through her limbs before the resistance shatters completely.
“He said…” she gasps, sobbing through the pain, “…that his boss gave him the green light.”
The words spill out of her in a rush. Her breathing remains ragged but the convulsions ease and the tension bleeds from her frame now that she’s surrendered the truth. Her eyes are wide and terrified. Not of us, I realise... Of what her own body just did to her.
“Who is the boss?” I demand.
“I don’t know,” she answers. “I don’t know. He never said.”
My pulse spikes. It’s the same answer Tyler gave me.
The same invisible hand. The same “boss.” I grind my teeth.
The need to find Fisher sharpens, no longer is it just about pulling Fae back from whatever hell she’s in, but about tearing the curtain back on whoever thinks they can operate above us.
Above me. Whoever this “boss” is, they’re playing a dangerous game.
And I don’t lose games.
“What was your role?” Felix asks behind me and I gulp in a deep breath of oxygen.
“To lure Fae out,” she whispers as tears slide down her temples.
“He told me where to meet her. Even said she would meet me,” Quinn chokes out a watery laugh.
“The only time she has ever spoken to me on her own and she was drugged and taken. What are the chances, hey? It’s like he knew her mindset before she even did.
I had to drive her car to East London and abandon it and make it look like she ran. ”
I search her face for hesitation. For some lie buried beneath it all but there is none. In the back of my mind I know the serum doesn’t allow it, but I can’t help but trust my own instincts more than a chemical compound.
“That’s everything?” I ask.
“Yes,” she chokes. “That’s everything,” she winces slightly and my eyes zone in on the action as I run through all the questions. My stomach drops as I grab her cheek and force her glare up towards me.
“Where’s Fisher?” I murmur.
“I don’t kno— AHHH” she screams as the serum attacks her again. “Wait, I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you,”She wails and her breathing comes out in short sharp gasps.
“Where is Fisher…”
“He has a cottage in Sudbury,” she stammers.
“Give us the address,” Felix bellows from behind me.
“Rosebank Cottage, Melford Road,” Quinn whispers, as her head drops forward and tears spill down her face.
Something inside me comes alive. After weeks of nothing but smoke and dead ends, we finally have something solid.
A place I can drive to. A door I can kick in.
A man I can break. The room falls quiet again, save for the absurd brightness of Marvin.
I rise slowly to my feet as Quinn’s breathing is ragged.
“You can’t kill me,” she pleads in a voice that has been stripped of every ounce of arrogance. “My father… we can fix this. I can help you. I can—”
“I can do whatever the fuck I like,” I say calmly, cutting off her ramble. “You promised me loyalty, Quinn. Or did you forget?”
The blade slides free from my pocket, the whisper of metal against leather barely audible in the cavernous room.
“You bound yourself to me in blood,” I continue, stepping closer as my shadow swallows her where she sits. “It feels fitting to end it the same way.”
“Well. That’s my evening sorted then.” Riggs sighs, already pushing off the wall knowing what is coming.
“No,” she cries, shaking her head. “No, please Roman, I am so sorry.”
Quinn’s eyes widen as I move behind her.
I fist my hand in her hair and tilt her head back, exposing the pale line of her throat beneath the harsh white light.
She screams again, high and fractured, as the sound echoes off concrete.
For the briefest second, I register that this will be the first woman I’ve ever killed like this.
Then the thought dissolves.
She isn’t a woman.
She’s the devil.
And she hurt my Tinkerbell.
The blade glides across her throat in one clean motion.
Her body jerks once. The blood comes fast and bright as it spills over my hand, across the front of her clothes, and tracks neatly toward the drain we built for this purpose.
Her eyes lose focus within seconds as terror fades into vacancy.
The tension drains from her frame and she slumps against the restraints.
Quinn’s head lolls forward as what’s left of her spills quietly away.
“Right,” Riggs exhales. “Bags or burn?”
“Bags. I hate the smell of burning bodies,” Victor says as he is starts moving toward the cleanup supplies. Felix looks at me as Atlas scrambles to help Victor.
“You okay?” Atlas calls out and I give a firm nod, not sure if he’s asking because of Fae or because I killed a woman.
“We’re bringing her home,” Felix states, staring at me like it’s the only possibility.
“Yes, we are,” I nod as I wipe the blade clean on a cloth and slide it back into place.
The room begins to move around me. Plastic sheeting crinkles, gloves snap on, quiet instructions exchanged like this is just another job.
But it isn’t. Not this time. This isn’t about territory or power or reputation.
This is about Fae. I turn away from Quinn’s lifeless body and look toward the door, already mapping the drive in my head.
Every mile between us feels like an insult.
They can run. They can hide. They can stack miles and secrets between us.
It won’t matter. The world is smaller than they think and I am far more patient than they are prepared for.
To quote Marvin, ‘baby there ain’t no mountain high enough, ain’t no valley low enough, ain’t no river wide enough, to keep me from getting to you,’ Fae.