No Peace for the Damned (26 page)

“Do you have any idea what will happen to you, Thirteen?” Banks asked. His gravelly voice paralyzed me where I stood. “It will be unbearable. You get that, don’t you? You
will
be broken. And the directory will be taken anyway.”

A loud metal pounding shook the cobwebs from the rafters. Banks passed the doorframe once more. “Damn it, man! Do you think I
want
to watch you suffer?”

Thunder clapped. The barn brightened in front of me, pulsing red with every step I took. I didn’t even try to push it back. I could see Banks through the doorway. My hands shook as I inched closer. There was a burn inside me now, and it was spreading fast. I ignored the hot ache and continued forward. Still invisible, I slipped into the small room.

My heart stopped as agony ripped through me. Banks stood hunched over Thirteen, his hands wet with the blood of
his former boss and mentor. The red hue of my vision vanished. There was only dark crimson now. True rage.

I stood opposite the door, taking in both men’s profiles. Banks, in all his distortion, leaned far over, nose to nose with Thirteen’s swollen face. Blood from Thirteen’s wounds coated his body and pooled on the ground at his feet. I wouldn’t have even recognized him if not for the weak voice of his consciousness.

The burn in my stomach ignited. Like electricity on a wire, my body sizzled with power. A sharp current whipped through the room. Thirteen’s eyes slammed shut. His head shot back against the chair holding him. Banks fell to his knees with a clang. His hands clutched the sides of his head. Both men screamed.

Holy shit!
Instantly, I reined in my power. The burn inside me simmered, anxious to strike out again. And all around me the crimson pulsed. Ready, sure, like some sort of high. So…fulfilling. Right. My blood dream come to life.

Thirteen’s eyes popped open. He turned his head as best he could against his restraints, looking around the room. He knew I was here. As weak and shredded as he appeared, he was still Thirteen. And he had a plan. I stood back and waited. Ready for his signal.

Banks was on all fours in front of Thirteen’s chair. He panted, adjusted his leg.

“He’s getting impatient,” Banks snarled at Thirteen. “Either you tell me what I need to know…or you tell
him
.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the open barn below.

As if Markus could send a violent burst of energy through the barn like that.
So fucking stupid
.

Thirteen shifted in his seat. He was in so much pain. I wanted to run across the room and heal him right now.
Just wait one more minute. Let Thirteen do his thing
.

Thirteen’s mouth opened but no words came out. Finally he managed to whisper, “Why?”

Banks looked up from where he knelt on the floor and then threw back his head in deep belly-aching laughter.

“As if I’m going to have a heart-to-heart with
you
!” He barked another laugh.

But Thirteen wasn’t asking for himself—he was asking for
me
. And whether the piece of shit Frankenstein monster planned on confessing his motives or not, I heard. Money and power. So simple, so petty. A beautiful townhouse full of priceless artwork, cash flow without end, a false promise of supernatural power. Even someone as loyal as Banks could be swayed to the dark side.

The burn inside me swelled again. I’d enjoy killing Banks for his betrayal. No, not just kill. Mutilate. Tear him apart until he begged for mercy. But my control was solid. Consciously, I elevated the burn within me. Power expanded beneath my skin. I trembled at the feel.
Amazing
. This wasn’t me defending against one of my father’s attacks. This was me using my power how it was
supposed
to be used. As a weapon.

With pinpoint precision, an intense wave of concentrated energy shot from deep inside me, piercing Banks in the temples. I shuddered in a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

The big man staggered. His enormous hands clutched the sides of his head as a terrible cry ripped from his throat. I could feel the pain inside him, and it fueled my burn. The more agony I created within him, the more my power gained strength. How could I have ever questioned this violent feeding of my powers? I could feel the blood inside him, coursing and heating up. It pulsed faster and faster, louder and louder, until the crimson of the room pulsed in time with Banks’s anguish.
Delicious
.

“Urgh!” Banks bellowed. His fists pounded against his head in panic. The clangor of his heavy leg shook the rafters as he scrambled to his feet. He started for the door.

I was faster.

Banks slammed into me like a brick wall. With a crash, he rebounded onto the floor. I laughed as he landed hard on his ass.
So fucking pathetic
.

Slowly, I pulled back my invisible mask. Time he learned what it
really
meant to work with a Kelch.

Banks froze at the sight of me standing in the doorframe. His mouth opened and closed but the crashing thunder drowned out his pitiful mutterings. I sauntered over to where he’d fallen to the floor. His eye widened and I hesitated. There was something in his look I’d never seen before. The rough Network enforcer I knew was gone. In his place was a man overcome not with fear or horror, but complete adoration.

“I never told about you,” he whispered, his voice articulating the worship in his eyes. “I never told him you were alive. Never even thought about you. I swear it.”

It was the truth. His thoughts were too raw to lie. Apparently, Shane wasn’t the only one more taken with me than I had realized.

I crouched down in front of him. With gentle fingers I caressed the puckered flesh around the stitching of his eye patch. I leaned in close. My face brushed against his hair, nuzzling his
cheek. His heart skipped. His breath caught in his throat. And I felt the rush of his blood traveling to his groin.

“If it was to
me
that you kept allegiance,” I whispered, “then your loyalty has been seriously misdirected.”

I refocused my power, this time specifically into my hands. I’d never done anything like this, but it felt so natural it was easy. Growing and stretching against Banks’s mottled face, my hands curved into something I’d never seen before. The bones and muscles cracked and shifted, realigned into larger, fiercer talons.

I smiled. The power flowed through my hands and completed their change. Then, with the silky force of knives, my fingers curled into his skin and ripped the eye patch from his skull.

Banks’s mouth opened to scream. Again, I was faster. With a quick squeeze of my other claw, I crushed his vocal cords. Only a gurgle escaped. I dropped the eye patch to the floor before my long, sharp nails returned to his face. Slowly, I scraped along the gaping wound of his lost eye.

“You really think my family would ever share anything of value with someone as pitiful as you?”

A small sound came from Thirteen’s direction, but I couldn’t make myself turn away. My nails gently moved across Banks’s forehead, leaving trails of bloody lines over his brows. His body convulsed in violent shudders. Tears streamed from his eye. The blood that flowed from his wounds spilled out and coated my strange and contorted hands. I could almost taste its tangy bitterness.

In fact, before I realized what I was doing, I leaned over. My mouth moved toward Banks’s wounds. A strangled noise bubbled in his throat. I cradled his head in my long hands. My lips parted instinctively.

“Magnolia.”

I froze, my lips moments away from tasting his flowing blood. Thirteen’s voice stopped me. “Magnolia, don’t.”

I blinked. The dark red of my vision dimmed, a semblance of normality returned. Banks’s head rested between my inhuman hands, but it was like I was seeing him for the first time.
Oh my God
. What had I just done?

With arms trembling, I let him go. He fell to the floor in a heap. Slowly I backed away. All I could do was stare. The blood pooling around him, the desecrated flesh on his face—all evidence of the torture I had just inflicted. Proof that I was just like everyone else in my family. But worst of all, the torture had felt so right. It still felt right.
This
was what it meant to be a Kelch.

“Magnolia…”

In the next moment I was in front of Thirteen. Instantly, his restraints fell away. He swayed in his chair then crumpled forward. I held him up, my clawed hands on his shoulders. I used my forearm to wipe the blood from his face. The wound would be on the very top of his head. I searched through his hair, eager to heal him.

“Thirteen? Thirteen, can you hear me?”

Finally, I found a deep gash at the top of his forehead, right along his hairline. A perforated blade had been dragged along his scalp. It ran nearly ear to ear.
Damn those bastards!
Banks convulsed on the floor behind me.

I placed my elongated palm on the top of Thirteen’s head. My energy flowed through him. It worked much faster than it had with Theo, or even Charles. My powers were stronger now. Within seconds he was completely healed. His sigh of relief filled me. But when he opened his eyes, there was a question in his look.

“What is it? What do you need?”

“Stop torturing him, Magnolia.” His voice was real now, commanding. No more struggled whispers.

Banks twitched on the floor, curled in the fetal position. I put an arm around Thirteen’s shoulders and helped him up. We walked together across the room, where I leaned him against the doorframe. I stepped toward Banks. Thirteen grabbed my shoulder. “He has suffered enough, Magnolia.”

“I know,” I said, not looking at him. “I’m ending it.”

But as I approached Banks, the burn inside me returned. Red colored the room again. This time, though, I pushed it away. I was
not
like my father and uncles. I would not give in to this. I crouched on the floor beside Banks. His one eye pried open. So much terror in his gaze now. Images of all the things I could do to him raced through my mind. The pain I could cause him—such a sweet temptation.
No. I won’t do it. I won’t
.

Banks’s eye shifted to the doorframe. The moment he glanced away, I clutched his heavy head between my clawed hands and twisted. His neck snapped. A shiver swept along my spine. I closed my eyes and shuddered. It was done. I placed his body gently on the floor.

I didn’t look into Thirteen’s face. Not even when I wrapped my arm around his waist and started across the loft for the stairs. Something told me I really didn’t want to see his expression right now.

Gunshots and violent cries echoed through the barn. The guards on site had reacted quickly when the others were revealed. At the top of the stairs, I listened to find out how many more were on their way, but no alarms sounded in the distance. Markus had disarmed all the barn’s monitors.
Why would he do that?
The thunderstorm raged outside. We were nearly a mile from the main grounds, and no one else at the estate had noticed us. At least not yet.

I stretched out my power until Thirteen and I were invisible. We headed down from the loft. Thirteen gained strength with each step, but I still forced him to the inside of the stairs. Halfway down, the stairs whined in protest. I hoisted Thirteen and raced us to the floor. Behind the partition, the three hostages were seated on the floor, propped up in front of the door. One had Jon’s extra gun, another swayed in his fight to stay conscious,
and between them both was a lump. Hair and clothes bloody, the unconscious third hostage.

A fight was underway across the barn. Six men still battled. One of them was Markus. The rest were dead. A part of me ached to confirm our men among the living, but I refused to listen. I needed to get Thirteen away from this place. Now. If I let myself think for even a second that something had happened to Theo…

I shook my head. We were at the back door. I could hear the rain pelting outside. I tightened my grip on Thirteen.
Time to get the hell out of Dodge
.

“Magnolia, stop,” Thirteen ordered. “Release our cover.”

I shifted us behind the partition and pulled back my power until we were visible. “What?” I snapped. We
so
did not have time for a powwow right now.