Twisted Together (Monsters in the Dark #3)(130)

"Why? Why did they take him at all?"

Frederick sighed. "Because he pissed off a man called Lynx. And now the bastard wants payback."



Half an hour later Franco and I zoomed in a taxi to the airport. Sergio had escorted us out of the building himself. Glaring as if we'd single-handedly robbed him of any accolades or good-doing by arresting us.

Franco looked as if he would hit him, so I was glad when a taxi coasted past the second the handcuffs were undone.



       
         
       
        

My fingers were wrapped around Franco's phone, glued to the app that'd turned Q-my amazing tattooed sadistic lover-into a red blip on the screen.

Frederick was right.

Q was in Spain.

And alive. He was still alive.

I jumped a foot as Franco placed a hand on my knee. "You okay?"

He asked that a lot. I hated that I acted as if I needed reassurance. The meek girl I'd been slowly changed, embracing vengeance.

I nodded. I was numb with shock, high on hope, and shaking with terror-but yes, I was okay. "I'm alright."

Franco nodded, leaning into the seat, adjusting his sling with a small groan.

Tearing my eyes from the red blip, I asked, "How about you. How are you holding up?"

His piercing green eyes were tight with pain; his forehead furrowed as whatever painkillers the doctors had given wore off.

He gave me a cold smile, his teeth glinting in the streetlights whizzing past the window. "I'll be a lot happier the minute I've shot some motherfucking rapists." He sighed. "Seriously, I just want to find Mercer and then crash-for a thousand years."

He winced as the taxi bounced over a pothole. Squeezing his eyes, he muttered, "You've always had strong instincts, Tess. Right from the beginning. What are they telling you now?" He kept his eyes closed but his body hummed with tension. "Would you say they're keeping him for ransom or torture?"

Torture.

I didn't need to think. Or guess.

The most morbid conclusion doused my system in horror. No matter how I tried to deny it. I couldn't stop the images.

Fingernails being pulled.

His beautiful strong body being mutilated.

His gorgeous tattoo being sliced from his chest.

My tummy rolled; I slapped a hand over my mouth. Swallowing hard, I forced away the toe-curling images and worked on blanking my mind.

Franco sucked in a breath. "That bad, huh. Shit."

I wouldn't speak my nightmares-I didn't want to give them power. But I did know as long as I was alive, I wouldn't let that happen. Curling my hands, I hissed, "I'm sick of evil intervening with my life. I'm sick of paying a toll for doing nothing more than falling in love. Whoever this bastard is who took Q-he's going to scream before I let him die."

Franco twisted in the seat, his aura thickening, darkening, filling the taxi cab with a threat so ferocious it scared even me. His eyes flashed green fire. "And if I could make that wish come true?"

"What wish?"

"That I'd help you make him scream. That I'd allow you to do the honours to avenge your man. Would you be able to pull the trigger, Tess? Have you fully faced your nightmares to do for Q what he did for you?" 

My skin prickled with foreboding. Franco looked cold, calculating, already slipping into the persona of a killer.

My heart thumped harder, my soul churning with a complex mix of right and wrong. Was I bluffing? Could I take a life? For all my bravado, when it came down to it-could I make a grown man scream before stealing his life?

"Shoot her, puta."

"Do it or we'll snap her fingers until you do."

I swallowed hard against the bile searing my throat.

Could I once again become a murderer and welcome more grime into my soul?

My eyes closed.

Q sprang to mind. Covered in blood, his incredible beauty ravaged by horror. They did that to him.

Gruesome heat.

Blood- smeared men.

Screams.

A cold-hearted power filled me. I was protecting what was mine.Je suis à lui. I was his. Retribution superseded right or wrong.

It reverted me to nothing more than a mate fighting for her lover. Delivering justice like for like.

I would rip out the hearts of the men who hurt him. I would willingly butcher and torture and maim.

I didn't want to hurt anyone. I would never stop being haunted by Blonde Hummingbird or Angel. But this time, it was the right thing to do. I wanted to hunt.

Q wanted me to stand by his side and help women who didn't have someone fighting on their behalf. Someone had to clean up the garbage in the world. He trusted me to be strong enough.

I am.

"Yes." My voice sliced through the thick cloud between us, sounding vicious, merciless. "I'm ready to kill."