Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Hadeon Warner was one of the few Mambas that Roman had been willing to work with over the years.
The Mambas specialized in surveillance and espionage, collecting as much information on their targets as possible before moving in to strike in one fell swoop.
Focusing their attention and efforts on omega trafficking meant they needed to keep their heads down as much as possible and rarely had the time to enact the brutality that Roman preferred.
He respected their mission as much as any other, but it wasn’t the sort of life he would have been able to lead.
His abilities were drenched in bloodshed and violence, not patience and planning. He preferred to keep it that way.
But Hadeon was unlike the other Mambas, and every so often, he and Roman could collaborate when their goals aligned. Like now.
Hadeon waited for them outside the main gate of the Mambas’ Pit, his back resting against the wrought iron as Roman parked between two trees.
Sidian eased out of the car more slowly than before, his eyes pinned on Hadeon’s silhouette in the darkness, his lips twisted away from his teeth in a snarl that belied just how he felt about the situation.
Not that Roman blamed him; alphas had harmed his mate more than any other designation, and mistrusting a stranger was a natural response.
Hadeon pushed himself off of the gate as they approached, Sidian walking a half-step behind Roman like he wanted to stay as far away from the Mamba as possible. “Who the fuck is that?”
“My mate. We spoke about him on the phone.” There was no need to hide Sidian’s identity, not here where they were among allies. “He’s going to assist me in the interrogation.”
“Him?” Hadeon tilted his head, his pale blue eyes trailing down Sidian’s body and back up, and Roman bit back a growl of his own at the sight.
There was curiosity, and there was disrespect; Hadeon always walked a fine line between the two.
“That’s fine, I guess. As long as you get the information I need, you’ll get what you want.
Follow me inside. The boss knows you’re here, but it’s just the team for the night.
Kept us waiting a long fucking time, didn’t you? ”
Roman rolled his eyes. “Just a few days. It didn’t sound like you were in a hurry.”
“I guess so.” Hadeon scoffed anyway, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Well, welcome to our illustrious shithole. Same as it’s always been.”
The Mambas’ Pit was much the same as the Vipers’ Pit; squat brick structures, extreme amounts of armed security, and the distinct air of danger that lingered in such places.
To Roman, it was nothing, but he knew well that this was not the norm for Sidian and so allowed his mate to cling to his sleeve for security.
Those wide, beautiful eyes flicked from building to building, guard to guard, likely trying to make sense of everything he saw.
Roman’s explanations paled compared to the reality; the way they had to live in order to achieve efficiency was not for the weak.
Hadeon led them to the main building, the largest in the Pit and likely where most of their mission work was conducted. The Vipers had something similar, though Roman was never there outside of direction and debriefing. Unlike Silver, he never needed to bring his work home with him.
“The guy’s a beta,” Hadeon explained, holding the door open for them and all but ensuring Sidian plastered himself against Roman’s back with a low, threatening noise.
“Easy, omega, I’m not interested in you.
” To Roman, he continued. “We picked the guy up right after he accepted a hand-to-hand cash payment from one of our primary targets, and he won’t tell us what it’s for.
Boss says we’re too close to the mission.
Your boss called us at just the right time. ”
The boss is involved? Roman filed that away for later, though he wasn’t sure what knowing it meant, or why Devereaux would even get involved. “Anything special about this beta?”
“His pain tolerance is shit, but that’s about what you’d expect. He snivels like a little bitch.”
Roman nodded, aware of small hands gripping his forearm as Sidian stepped closer to him, their footsteps echoing off of the black and white tiled floors beneath them.
Most of the Pits were monochrome, minimalist and standard issue because most of Ouroboros was composed of alphas.
Only the Nests were outfitted with omega sensibilities in mind, created to be sanctuaries where they could rest and relax while relocation efforts were underway.
But alphas needed no such creature comforts, and so they were not given them.
Not that Roman minded. The only comfort he needed was the lily-sweet omega at his side and the assurance that his mate was safe with him.
Hadeon beckoned them down a hallway that led to a solid steel door, hauling it open to reveal an industrial set of metal stairs coiling down into darkness; Sidian let out a little warning hiss as he clung to Roman’s arm harder.
But Hadeon said nothing as he thumped down the steps, throwing quick glances over his shoulder like he expected Sidian to lunge down the stairs and go for his throat.
Truth be told, Sidian just might; Roman wasn’t sure about every trace of trauma in his mate’s past, and there might always be something he was missing.
Sidian’s nails dug into his skin with each step. “Where the fuck are we going?”
“Basement,” Hadeon answered from the front, waving a hand. “That’s where we keep ‘em until we get what we need. Then we feed their corpses into the incinerator.”
“Incinerator? Never let ‘em go, huh?” Sidian asked, sounding more excited.
“It’s a security risk if we do. You never know who’s stupid enough to open their mouths to rat us out to the authorities, and the boss lady would rather we didn’t take the unnecessary risks to begin with.
” Hadeon paused at the foot of the stairs, his eyes drifting to Roman for a moment before they settled on Sidian once again.
“Figured you’d know all about that if this is your snake, though.
Killer Kane is what the Vipers call him, y’know? Because he doesn’t leave anyone alive.”
“Something like that,” Roman murmured. It wasn’t necessary to discuss it right then.
Hadeon’s lips quirked up into an unfriendly smile as he spun on heel, opening another steel door that led through a dark hallway lit only by dim yellow bulbs hanging from the ceiling. “By all fucking means, kill him when you’re done with him. I’d love to see what you and your mate got in person.”
The beta was a middle-aged man, his short blond hair matted with blood, his right eye swollen with a purple bruise and his lip split open.
He wore a typical white button-down and a pair of black slacks, though his shoes had been taken from him at some point.
When the door clicked shut behind them, the beta lifted his head, peering up with his one good eye.
The damage wasn’t significant; just what was going through Hadeon’s head these days that he lost patience?
Not my concern. Not my problem. Roman rolled his neck before he glanced down at Sidian, watching his omega’s face for any telltale signs of excitement. “What are you thinking?”
“There are a couple of different ways we could go about it.” Sidian glanced around the room, though the moment his eyes lit on the silver tray of tools set off to the side—untouched, as far as Roman could tell—he broke away to approach it, shrugging off his flannel as he did. “Are these free to use?”
Roman suppressed a smile as he leaned down to pick up the shirt, folding it over his arm before setting it aside to shed his own. Whatever they wore was likely going to be ruined, and he had no genuine desire to lose more clothing than was reasonable. “Of course, darling.”
The implements were familiar enough to Roman; such kits had been handed out to everyone and were likely stocked at the Pit as need be, seeing as none of the instruments were special or noteworthy.
Sidian picked up what looked like a scalpel and all but bounced over to the beta, who stared at him with a manic look in that one good eye.
Roman kept his distance but walked a slow circle around the beta, noting that his wrists were zip-tied to the back legs of the chair he sat in, right beneath the stabilizing bar.
That was good; it would be most unfortunate if the idiot tried to take a swing at Sidian because then Roman would be forced to kill him.
“Heard you keep some pretty nasty company,” Sidian chirped, waving the blade in front of the beta’s face with a little snicker.
“Traffickers, huh? You know, I wasn’t trafficked in the traditional sense, but all the fucked-up shit that happened to me resulted from people like you who think omegas are just toys you can sell to the highest bidder.
So I’m not very sympathetic, so to speak. ”
Roman’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t considered how Sidian might feel about that topic, but he had to admit that his omega was correct. The breeding centers were much the same as the trafficking rings, if much easier to brute force and destroy. “What will you do to him?”
Sidian smiled, but he never took his eyes off of their target. “Every single day I was in that place, it felt like pieces of my soul were getting cut out of me. But I get that’s not so easy to understand, so I’m gonna demonstrate how it felt, fucker. Roe, I want one of his hands.”
“Wait,” the beta said, squirming in his seat, though he did not even come close to squirming free. “Wait, wait, don’t—”
Roman clapped a hand over his mouth, leaning over him to whisper in his ear. “Are you going to tell us what we want to know?”
He removed his hand, and the beta clamped his jaw shut so tight his chin trembled with the effort, his teeth all but grinding together.
That was not surprising; people with powerful allies also made powerful enemies the moment they misspoke.
Roman wondered if Hadeon might have convinced the beta he had a chance of survival if he spoke soon enough.
So be it, though. Everyone wanted to do things the hard way.
He snapped the zip tie with ease, his hand clamping down on the beta’s elbow and wrist to keep him from flailing free.
Without letting up so much as an ounce of pressure, he drew the beta’s arm around in front of him, feeling the bones grinding together as the beta tried to free his vulnerable right hand.
The odds of his being right-handed were good; he might take this a little more seriously if he knew his dominant hand was on the line.
Or he might not. Roman never knew which way someone might lean until they were backed into a corner with no other option for escape.
It was easy to hold the weak beta in place, though. “Here you are, darling.”
“Good dog.” Sidian caught the beta’s index finger before it could curl towards his palm, bending it back with an exaggerated slowness until the beta’s quivering lips parted around shrill, panicked noises. “Nah, quit sniveling. You wanted to do this the hard way, didn’t you?”
He paused, then snapped the finger the rest of the way back, the crack of bone and the hoarse, pained shout of their target echoing off of the concrete walls.
Roman allowed his eyes to drift shut for a moment, drinking in Sidian’s joy, the way his pheromones spiked hot and mouthwatering as he let out a delighted little cackle.
When the beta’s pained sounds raised an octave, Roman opened his eyes, unwilling to miss so much as a moment of what his mate was capable of.
“You gotta see it from my perspective,” Sidian said as he pressed the sharp edge of the blade to the beta’s first knuckle, just enough force behind it to dent the skin. “You fuck around with guys like the sick fucks who ruined my life, then you get what’s coming to you.”
And then he began to saw through the beta’s finger.