Page 84

Her bloodcurdling scream pierced me like a knife. Her wrist flopped uselessly, obviously broken, and the sound of her sobs brought me physical pain. There was more horrible laughter, and I couldn’t stand it.

“Please,” I begged. I didn’t care anymore; my pride had gone out the window the second I’d heard her bones break. “She didn’t do anything to you. Please, no more.”

“Shut up,” Alastor snapped, then kicked me in the stomach. I doubled over automatically. “The Prince wants you both to suffer, and so you will. It is Odessa’s divine will.” He looked to the two men carrying Claire. “We’ll hold him while you prepare her for the ritual. Come back when she’s ready.”

And I had to watch them drag my wife away as she sobbed out my name.

Chapter 29

John

It didn’t take long for them to come back for me. By that time, I’d been hit with the electric rod twice more because I’d lashed out and given one of them a black eye and another a bloody nose. My whole body ached like a motherfucker, and they’d bound my hands behind my back—the cowards—because I fought them every chance I got. I didn’t care that it was five against one, and that I had no chance. If they were gonna make me suffer, I’d give it as good as I got.

When they forced me to my feet, though, I went willingly because I needed to find Claire. The only saving grace we had was that I didn’t think they’d kill her before Jim J got here. He wanted to be the one to do it, and I had a hunch he wanted to kill me personally, too, since I was the one responsible for grilling his face off the last time we met.

The main area of the bank had been transformed. It was dark, with covers over all the windows, and a ton of candles were lit around a short desk they’d turned into a kind of makeshift altar. There was a tablecloth on it, and on top of that, a shallow metal tub that I had no clue where they’d gotten it. Claire was lying in it with her wrists bound in her lap and duct tape over her mouth, submerged in clear water up to her chin. She whimpered when she saw me, and I struggled against the Order assholes holding me back.

Oh yeah, and there were cameras on tripods, all facing the altar. I remembered Jim J’s words: everyone will get to watch me break the Sole Survivor once we claim the Delta for our own and usher in a new era. The sick fucks were going to film the whole thing.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby,” I said, unable to stop myself from comforting her. “I’m here with you. It’s gonna be—”

Alastor scoffed and hit me across the face. I tasted blood, but as I stumbled, my gaze fell on something black on the floor at the other end of the room. My pack. My rifle didn’t seem to be there, but the spare pistol I kept in the side pocket might be. If only I could get to it.

“It won’t be okay for either of you,” he said, obviously enjoying this stupid little show they were putting on. “The Prince will arrive soon, and he’ll carve the Vessel’s heart from her body. The water will bleed red, and his Vision will come true, and the Ascension will be upon us.”

I felt sick to my stomach at the realization that that was why she was in water—they wanted it to turn red with her blood. For dramatic effect, or some shit.

“You get off on this bullshit?” I growled, spitting out blood. “Murdering a defenceless, unarmed woman while she’s tied up in a fucking bathtub? Goddamn cowards, all of you.”

Alastor’s eyes flashed. Seemed I’d hit a nerve.

“Tie him to the chair.”

They forced me to sit in a wooden chair a few feet from the altar, facing Claire, and tied my hands again to the chair.

“Now, we wait,” Alastor said with obvious excitement. “The Prince has been delayed by the holy war in the streets, but he radioed to say he will arrive as soon as he can.”

That’s our deadline, I thought frantically. I was sure that neither of us would survive if we didn’t escape before Jim J made his big entrance. That meant I only had until then to get us out of this. I fingered the knots in the ropes they’d tied my hands with. Living on a farm, I was decent at tying knots, and these weren’t complicated. With some time, I could probably untie myself. The problem was, time was in short supply, and I was still hugely outnumbered.

A few minutes later, our luck—which, up to this point, had fucking sucked—suddenly changed. The sounds of gunfire that’d been distant before got a lot closer, and I could tell the guys were getting uneasy. They obviously thought it’d be over by now. They hadn’t expected me, or the White Rose, to throw a wrench in their plans. And they hadn’t expected Claire to tell the truth, to call to arms the way she had. They’d underestimated her, just like Julius had.

When the gunfire got within a couple blocks, one of the men finally went out to check. He came back almost immediately, his whole body tense.

“Sir,” he said to Alastor, “the rebels are getting closer. We should move the Vessel.”

“No,” Alastor shot back, outraged. “We set this up especially for the Prince’s pleasure. We should get the credit. The rebels won’t make it here anyway. We have a blockade.”

“Sir, I really must—”

“Oh, fine,” Alastor snapped, and he nodded at the rest of them. “Everyone but Percy, go help our brothers and sisters hold the rebels at bay. Ensure they don’t reach this street.”

The men left, and then there were two. Alastor stayed by Claire, and Percy guarded me.

Two, I can handle, I thought, my eyes darting back and forth between Alastor and Percy. Just need a plan.

Claire’s head lifted above the lip of the tub, and her eyes found mine. She made the tiniest motion with her chin toward Percy, then toward Alastor. Let’s each take one, she seemed to be saying. I was on board with that plan, except that I had no idea how Claire was going to take on Alastor when she was tied up in a tub of water.

I realized her plan when she reached up and ripped the duct tape off her mouth, yelping at the pain, and said to Alastor, “You’re a fool. Your master won’t reward you for this. You think a makeshift altar inside a bank is grand enough for the Prince of Pain?”