28. A New Enemy
28
A NEW ENEMY
KRYPT
I don’t like that Director knows I’m hurting. I especially don’t like that he can guess what’s hurting me.
Life was better when I felt nothing and had no attachments. Remiel has made me weak and vulnerable by tainting my decisions and warping my motivations. He infected me with feelings and tamed the monsters in my eyes, and a part of me wants to hate him for it, but a bigger part respects him for being capable of it. I’ve craved being seen, so much so that I ached for a diagnosis when none fit me.
Remiel diagnosed me. By holding my eyes.
“You’re coming back,” Director states, handing me a jacket with knives and daggers hidden in the liner. Axel Graves will find them, but any chance is better than none. “You know that, right?”
If I make it back, I’m going to force him to answer a question I’ve been too chickenshit to ask. What did he see on Remiel’s brain scan?
I put on the jacket and avoid answering. I’ve had the tracker in my brain for a week, so if Axel Graves is the one watching my dot on a map, he’ll know exactly where I’ve been. He’s from Moros originally, so he knows where and what Vile House is. There’s a very real chance whoever meets me today will be there to kill me. But even if I make it through that and am taken back to the lab to start the brainwashing procedure, he’s not just going to let me come back to Moros like he did with Remiel’s mom. I’m a risk. She’s not, so our paths will be different. My only task is leading Vile House to Axel’s lab. Whatever else I have to endure while I’m there is on me.
I’ve never really feared dying. I figured it’d come at me fast and furious, and when my light blinked out, that’d be the end for me. Even if I was captured, I’d endure it until my hope died, and then I’d take the suicide pill we all keep on us. Either way, I planned to die with no regrets.
But once again, fucking Remiel has fucked with my plans.
Because I don’t want to die.
Would you still be mine if I freed you?
I free you, Remiel.
I’m desperate to know the answer. I’m terrified to know the answer. I might never get the chance to find out.
“Once we ping your location, we’re coming for you, Krypt.” Director looks at me.
He can’t hold eye contact as long as Remiel can, but he’s better than most people. “You’ll make sure Remiel…”
“Vile House has him. Always. And once you get back, you’ll have him. He’s protected, Krypt. What else?”
“No. No what else bullshit,” Ghost says, walking into the tunnel. “Like fuck you’re getting your affairs in order. You’ll be back by tomorrow.” His face is a stoic mask, but determination lines his eyes. “I’m coming with you.”
Ghost is going to fucking hate me for what I do to him next. But I’ll let it be a surprise for my brother to deliver. Remiel can handle the fallout from that.
“You’re on rescue team one, idiot,” Director tells Ghost. “You need to be here, on standby, to go in when we get the signal.” Because no one moves as silently as Ghost. Ghost gears up to fight the order, but Director cuts him off. “Open your mouth and you’ll join Ransom at the end of the rank line. I need you here. Krypt needs you here. Remi needs you here.”
I shove a handgun into the holster inside the jacket. Ghost grabs my shoulders, touching me when he knows I don’t like to be touched. Right in my face, he looks into my eyes with almost as much comfort as his brother.
“Remember that time you went through an interrogation for six days and nights, under bright lights and loud music, tortured and taunted, tricked and fucked with?” He slaps my cheeks. “You fucking made it. This is gonna be child’s play.”
I zip my jacket. “You trying to say you’re worried about me?”
Ghost grins. “You feel guilty about raping my brother yet?”
My eyes flash to Director, but he shakes his head and ignores us. “I’m still considering it.”
Ghost laughs like the asshole he is. “How’d you leave it with him? He knows where you’ll be?”
I look down.
“Krypt, you fucking bastard. You walk out without a word?”
“I set him free. Our bargain is met.” Once Riot deals with the last name on Remiel’s list. I already had my goodbye chat with my brother. “He’s better off?—”
“No, he isn’t. You fucked him up and made him yours, despite how many times I told you not to. You’re coming back to him.” He stares at me, hatred and respect mixing in his eyes. “I’m gonna kill you for this.”
“Can it wait until after?” Director butts in. “We’re on a time limit.”
“See you tomorrow, yeah?” Ghost asks, trying to make me promise.
“We’ll see.” I let him pull me into a side hug tap thing, and then I turn my back on him and follow Director through the tunnels. “Watch out for Remiel.”
“I always do.”
That’s all I need to know to die today.
Axel Graves is three things. Smart, conniving, and fucking crazy.
He knows exactly who I am, where I came from, and what I’m doing here. I knew it from the moment he stepped out of the vehicle. He’s not walking into a trap. He’s a man who set this trap and sees me as his prey.
But I’m no one’s prey. I’m the fucking hunter.
When I showed up to where the mobile trailer was, all I found was a note taped to the door. The quarry , it said, so here I am, at the quarry. Not thinking about Remiel.
“Which one are you?” he asks, sauntering his business shoes and pleated pants in my direction without ever coming close enough. “Red?” His hair is so black it’s iridescent and silky like raven wings, but his eyes… well, one eye. The other is partially closed, but doesn’t appear injured. His eyelid flutters sometimes when he moves his line of sight. “Pink?”
Oh, he’ll rue the day he meets Kyd in his pink.
“What’re we doing here? I’m not in the mood for a swim.” I look at the tinted windows of his SUV, wondering who else is in there or if he had the balls to come alone.
“A little show and tell,” Axel says with a pretty smirk. “I like to brag.”
“I’m not a good audience.”
“Hmm.” He leans against the hood of the vehicle, slipping his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket. “I suppose not. You’re likely to throw one of the three,” he pauses, “sorry, four daggers in your jacket at me. Perhaps use the pistol? Or if things really come to blows, you’ll reach for your ankle knives.”
There are five in my jacket, but I respect his attention to detail. “Probably.”
“I’m a lover, not a fighter… Riot?” He lifts a brow.
“Know my weapons, but not my name?”
“I know what’s in front of me, not behind my back.”
“Krypt,” I tell him, not giving a shit if he knows it. “Get on with the show and tell.”
“Krypt.” He nods, looking at the quarry. Water has filled it over the years, turning it into a dirty swimming hole. “I’ve heard about you. What you went through.”
“Went through?”
“For initiation. Your tests.”
“How?”
He keeps his gaze on the water. “Did Director tell you who I am? I mean, obviously you know my reputation if you’re here to infiltrate my lab, but did he get detailed with it?”
I’m not someone who is easily tricked, mostly because I don’t have the patience to listen. But I can’t walk away right now. This is my job, given to me on behalf of Vile House to protect Moros. There are few things I care about in this world, but Moros is one of them.
“Is this the tell part of your show and tell?”
“It is,” he says, laughing nicely. “Have you met the one they call Medic?”
I nod. Medic is the man who acts as our doctor, surgeon, and general practitioner. He patches us up if we get wounded and gives us referrals for our mental health.
“He’s Director’s brother, you know. My birth father, but he didn’t raise me. A Vile House secret.” Axel looks at me. I’m surprised, especially because Director didn’t warn me, but I don’t show it. “It was your testing that… caused a rift between us. As you know, mental coercion and brainwashing, really anything to do with mind control, are my… crème de la crème, if you will. The way you withstood that mental torture was…” He moans, kissing his fingertips.
“So, you’ve known my name and who I am this whole time? Why the game?”
“I knew who you were then. You didn’t have your name yet. Krypt. It fits.” He smiles.
“With a K.”
“Mm. Even better. I want to show you something, Krypt. What my methods can do. Then I want to explore them with you. Your mind is a vault, and I haven’t found a subject yet that can resist my coercion. I need to study its weak points on someone who stands a chance at fighting it. Would you work with me?”
“With you? You’re working with Benton Wentworth, trying to take over Moros.” My fingers twitch, wanting to grab the handle of a knife just to feel the grip of it.
Axel waves that off. “His billions are paying for my experiments, yes, but Moros is what I’m trying to protect.”
“From?”
“Outside. Ah, here they are.”
I straighten, finding a group of ten people walking towards us. One of them is Remiel’s mom. They all look normal, but their expressions are expectant, as if they’re waiting to learn why they’re here. Axel’s minions, who came when he called.
“These ten are to the point I can utter a single word or address on the phone, and they come running. I’ve trained them with sound signals.”
“Why her?” I nod at Mrs. Sauder.
“Because she’s a horrible person. That Sauder curse.” He clicks his tongue. “Her husband was living longer than she thought he would, so…”
No. What? “How do you know this?”
“That’s not the right question, Krypt. The right question would be ‘why am I doing this?’ don’t you think?” His one eye looks at me as his ten controlled minds come to a stop ahead of us. “These are test subjects. But imagine the power Moros could have if we had a group of ten powerful people under our control. Because the world is coming for Moros, my friend, and we’re not ready to defend our home.”
“Who’s coming for Moros?” Because we thought it was him and his team of billionaires. People have been trying to overtake Moros for years, but their money doesn’t get them far against our town. But if the right person or group took a shot, well, we’re only so strong. I don’t even know if I believe a word out of his mouth yet.
Axel pulls a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket but doesn’t hand it to me. “Moros is a town full of myths, cults, sinister people, and darkness. Over the decades, it’s earned a reputation, hasn’t it? Government organizations leave it alone, the FBI and CIA don’t come here, and we draw the kind of attention that gets stupid people killed or missing but repels street-smart people. Who do you think would benefit from owning an untouchable town and the people in it?”
“Just fucking tell me. I’m not the dramatic build-up type.”
He sets the folded paper on the hood and steps away from it, walking to his group of controlled people. When he’s far enough away, I grab it. It’s an encrypted message I can’t fully understand, but a few things stand out.
A date. Almost a year from now.
Every M, O, R, and S is capitalized.
It takes me a very long time because I’m not the puzzle-solving type, but the seemingly insignificant lowercase letters at the bottom… they aren’t in order. But if you reorganize them, they spell…
“Ah, so you’re aware of them.” Axel gracefully spins to face me.
Reaper Corp, that’s what the letters spell. The organization that breeds its own killers, specialists, and geniuses. The group who took over a city down south and turned it into their own personal kingdom. If they want Moros…
I crumple the paper. “How do I know you didn’t just print this off?”
Axel smiles at me, but he clicks something between his fingers. “I’ll prove it to you.” As one, his group of ten come at me. But it’s not them I’m worried about.
Something in my mind changes, and when they grab me, I don’t fight it. Because the clicking sound told me not to.