He took hold of Rooster’s biceps, sure that the injuries Mira had inflicted with her blades at La Notte a few nights ago still pained the human. He squeezed, ignoring Rooster’s sharp cry of anguish. “Take a look at your friend. You remember how I said Billy got stupid before he got dead?” That red mohawk wobbled with its owner’s jerky nod. “Don’t be stupid, Rooster. Tell me where they took Mira and Jeremy Ackmeyer.”
When he didn’t hear an answer through the groan of agony coming out of Rooster’s mouth, Nathan increased the pressure.
“I don’t know,” the human howled. “I don’t fuckin’ know! Last I knew Ackmeyer was with Vince, man. You should be lookin’ for him, not me!”
“Vince who?” Nathan demanded.
“I don’t know the dude’s last name, just know he runs with Bowman and his crew. Or did until today.”
“Bowman,” Nathan repeated, the first he’d heard of that name among rebel circles. “Where can I find Bowman?”
“Don’t know. Never met him.” Rooster’s face was screwed up in a grimace when Nathan didn’t relent for an instant on his wounded arms. “All’s I know is, he heads up a small operation somewhere outside Boston.”
Nathan noted the new intel but returned his focus to the rest of Rooster’s statement. “And this other individual—Vince. He’s got Ackmeyer now? Vince decide to run solo or something?”
Rooster nodded. “He was lookin’ to make a ransom when he contacted me this morning. Never heard the dude so fired up and cocky. Said Ackmeyer was some kind of genius. Said he invented some kind of UV technology shit that was worth a fortune to the right buyer.”
Although Nathan had a cursory awareness of Jeremy Ackmeyer’s public résumé and his contributions to the science and technology arenas, word of an invention of the type Rooster just mentioned came as a surprise. A very disturbing one.
He said nothing in reaction to this news, his mind playing out a host of possibilities that might come out of a scientific breakthrough involving ultraviolet light. None of them good where the Breed was concerned. And he could only imagine the kind of interest the availability of such technology might attract.
“What else do you know about Vince’s plans to ransom Ackmeyer? Did he mention who he was looking at as potential buyers?” Nathan peered at the twitchy informant with assessing eyes. “Let me guess. That’s why Vince got in touch with you—to put him in front of someone who might want the deal he had to offer.”
Rooster swallowed, still wincing at the pain Nathan was inflicting. “He promised me a cut of his take, so I made some calls. I don’t know who took the bait. All’s I did was put the word out.”
Nathan felt justified in killing Rooster for that offense alone, but he still had Mira to think about. “What about the female? Was Vince looking to turn some kind of profit on her head too?”
“Like I said, man, I don’t know nothin’ about her. Only what Vince said when I saw him today.”
“And what was that?” Nathan all but snarled.
“He said Bowman seems to be having a real good time with her.” This Rooster announced with remarkably reckless amusement. He chuckled, even through the pain he was enduring. “Don’t ask me to feel sorry for the bitch. After what she did to me the other night, far’s I’m concerned, she can suck my dick too.”
Nathan’s fury stunned him, it roared up so violently inside him. It seethed through his veins, although it was clear from Rooster’s continued blathering, the human didn’t sense the sudden shift in the air from dangerously tense to lethal still.
He went on, his stupidity far greater than Billy’s ill-intended move to defend himself against certain death. “I hope she’s gettin’ it real good. I hope she got it from Vince and all the rest of Bowman’s crew too. Teach that uppity bitch a lesson, put her in her fuckin’ place.”
Nathan’s control snapped, just like that, but outwardly he didn’t so much as blink.
He released Rooster’s arms and grabbed his head between both palms. Then gave a twist, severing the human’s spinal column in one swift twitch of his hands.
He let the body drop, and Rooster’s head with its bright red comb of hair flopped at a grotesque angle in the dead man’s lap.
Then Nathan turned and calmly walked out of the dump and into the night to continue his mission.
16
THEY HAD BEEN IN THE CITY FOR MORE THAN AN HOUR, BUT so far, Rooster was as good as a ghost. He wasn’t at his apartment. Hadn’t been seen all day, according to the lowlifes he tended to hang with, dealing drugs or fencing electronics down in West Roxbury. No one had seen or heard from him since he’d run with them the night before.