Chapter 25
Tacita
Two more groups fail over the next three days. And pay with their lives.
One team has actually won, and Wyatt was insufferable at not coming in first place.
One more murder has occurred.
And tensions are running high amongst the rest of the competitors as files keep going missing and no one can work out if it's a thief or if their own team members are playing them. Rio arrived at lunch today with a black eye, to add to Wyatt’s split lip from yesterday, from an altercation with an opposing team. Fights are breaking out frequently.
Our team now has possession of at least twenty of the character profiles, Wyatt and I managing to lift them from their original owners. It turns out there were many more variations than we originally thought.
The guards are playing a good game, I will give them that.
There are multiple ways in which to win the game, and about twice as many ways in which to lose.
We have a pretty solid route to follow but we’re hesitating on going after a murder weapon until we are one hundred percent certain.
None of us fancy getting ourselves blown up if we choose wrong.
But right now, I need to concentrate on the video footage I’m currently analysing. Whilst there was once again no evidence left on the latest murder victim, I have a theory I’m testing.
The lights in the residential halls are censored, they only illuminate when they detect movement and switch off after a minute of stillness.
And there is CCTV which picks up those lights from the courtyard.
Seeing as most of the killings seem to now be taking place at night, I am piecing together the timings of the lights to see if I can track the murderer’s movements. It’s paying off.
I’m finishing up with the film from last night's crime and feeling confident I can pin the killer to the second floor of the first dormitory block when there’s a knock at the door of the monitoring room.
“How are you getting on?” Tarron walks in, and remains against the far wall. I roll my eyes at his distance. It’s funny how people treat me when I’m the Death Bringer. They either fawn all over me like I’m their favourite celebrity, or they stay as far away as possible with cautious fear.
Tarron clearly falls into the latter.
I don’t answer him but do swivel in my chair to face him and nod.
I’ve considered getting something that would distort my voice and fixing it to the inside of my mask but honestly, I can’t be bothered with talking.
It’s freeing, and I don’t have to deal with mundane questions.
No, the only ones who hear my voice are the ones I’m torturing before I send them on their merry way to the next life. Or Tartarus.
“Right.” Tarron shifts uncomfortably. “Garrick should be here soon and you can show us both what you’ve found.”
Garrick.
Officer-Fuck-me-and-ghost has avoided me at all costs since our altercation in his office. I thought I was a one and done person, but he takes it to a whole new level. And it’s pissing me the fuck off. We need to at least work together to stop the piece of shit interfering in the games.
And no doubt he invited Tarron to this little meeting because he knew I wouldn’t talk in front of him.
The door opens, this time with no knock, and the Head Guard walks in.
“Evening,” he says, all bright and breezy. “Did your theory pan out?”
Only by locking my jaw do I stop the words I want to say to him from flying out. Not only am I angry at him for the epic level of cold shoulder he’s giving me, but I want to eviscerate him for the current mess I’m in with Wyatt and Milo.
Nothing has progressed there either in the last few days.
Well, they are growing closer and closer.
Wyatt even pulled Milo into his lap at dinner tonight and kissed his neck in front of everyone.
It stabbed at my chest, and I had to look away.
But beyond telling them the whole truth, I don’t know how to fix it.
I don’t know what I want either. Do I want them both?
Can I have them and Garrick? Trying to decipher my own thoughts is sending me off kilter.
I’ve never experienced this level of uncertainty before.
Especially when it comes to those I’m sleeping with.
No one has had this effect on me, and to have all three of them stuck in my mind at the same time is exhausting.
But I just can’t move on from any of them.
“Well?” Garrick prompts, pulling me from my thoughts.
Fuck him, and fuck this.
Except, not really. I want to figure it out. But I do need to stick a pin in it for now.
Turning back to the monitors, I point to each one as I play the sequences I’ve isolated and draw attention to the notes I’ve been making as I go. The comprehension on both males' faces is clear as I line up the time stamps on the videos to the estimated times of death for each of the victims.
“You believe the killer is one of the residents on the second floor?” Tarron asks when we reach the final one.
I nod.
“Right, lets get them all in for questioning,” Garrick says, moving to the door. He pauses with his hand on the handle. “Good job,” he adds, and then he’s gone.
“Wow. I thought getting laid would loosen him up a bit but it’s had the opposite effect.” My head snaps to Tarron.
Standing, I fold my arms as I glare at Garrick’s second, tail flicking. He interprets my penetrating gaze accurately, even with the mask veiling my eyes, and starts talking.
“Sorry. He told me about it the other night. I won’t whisper a word to anyone, I swear.”
I tap a foot and tilt my head, demanding more.
“I told him to not shut down like he usually does. I see now that I was wasting my breath. Seriously, that guy is a martyr to himself.”
He’s not telling me anything I don’t already know, but hearing Garrick talked to him and not me hurts a little. I go to shoulder check him on my way to the door, but he speaks again.
“He’d be worth it. If you… you know… chased after him a bit.”
Stopping mid storm out, my gaze returns to Tarron once more. Does this idiot really expect me to woo Garrick like he’s some damsel wanting a prince?
He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m just saying. If you managed to get under that armour he wears, he would be worth it. Clearly you already trust him, if you’ve shown him your face.”
I can’t stop the huff that escaped my lips. Little does Tarron know he sees my face every day.
Showing my face wasn’t about trust with Garrick, it was for the job. But maybe I like that he knows both sides of me. He fucked the real me. The assassin and the female.
Swallow thickly, the revelation hits me harder than a gargoyle in their boulder form. All my muscles lock tight as something shifts, the ground beneath my feet remains solid but my sense of reality alters.
Garrick wanted me for me. Even if he’s regretting it now. That’s not something I’ve been able to experience in the last few centuries. Of all of the people I’ve slept with since becoming the Death Bringer, exactly zero have known that I’m Hades’s Assassin.
Overcome with emotion, I don’t respond to Tarron at all.
I simply resume storming out of the monitoring room and stalk into the main offices.
There’s a flurry of activity but Garrick isn’t amongst the shifters and demons.
I beeline straight for Elisa, Garrick’s office manager.
She straightens at my approach but doesn’t flinch.
I respect that, but then again working for Garrick can’t be easy.
She also seems to read my thoughts because before I try to convey who I’m looking for, she says, “He’s already in the cell block, the monitoring room to be exact. Some of the Officers have already left to bring the second floor residents in for questioning.”
Softening my demeanour, I bow my head in thanks before spinning on my heel and heading straight for the lower level where the cell block is located.
Like him earlier, I don’t bother knocking. I simply slam the staff pass, which I snagged from a desk upstairs, against the lock and barge into the monitoring room for the cells.
Garrick is indeed inside, he spins in the chair he’s sitting in to face me as I enter. His face doesn’t show any sign that he’s surprised to see me. “Which of my officers am I going to have to punish now for letting you get a hold of their pass?”
“Does that matter?” I throw the pass at him as I lean back into the closed door. “It was on their desk this time.”
“I guess, but they shouldn’t be leaving them laying around.” Garrick places the pass on the desk beside him and goes to turn away.
Swooping, I grab the arm of the chair and spin him back to face me. He doesn’t move to touch me. I keep him pinned with my hands on the armrests and leaning down so our faces are level.
“Now is not the time,” he snaps at me, his eyes completely void, although they are shifted to the yellow of his cat.
“I think it’s the perfect time. None of your officers have arrived yet. We have a while before their questioning gets fun.”
“Tacita.” His voice wavers this time. It’s coated in anger but at least it’s an emotion.
“Why did you fuck me?” I ask, my heartbeat thudding in my ears. I’m terrified of his answer but use the courage of the Death Bringer.
“It doesn’t matter.” A low growl reverberates around the room.
“Yes. It. Does.”
“Aren’t you with them? I’ve watched you the last three days, you went straight back to them. You’re always with them, even sleeping in the same room.”
“One of them is my roommate. Remember? You assigned us to the same room.”
“But you’ve both been sleeping in Thirty-Nine’s room for the last three nights.”
It’s true, and if only Garrick knew that he was the reason I’d been sleeping in the spare bed whilst the guys shared Wyatt’s. But I’m not going to share details with him. Yet.
“So?” I’m the one growling now.
“So?” Garrick repeats. “It seems perfectly clear that you’ve made your choice.”