“What?”
“Kratos. He’s going to kill you,” I say flatly, my voice even. “I don’t mean figuratively. I mean he’s literally going to kill you.” My eyes turn cold. “He’s going to break your teeth. Then he’ll rip off your tiny balls, and stuff them down your throat through your ruined mouth.”
Grisha’s brow furrows.
“It’ll be up to you if you want to choke on them or swallow them while he breaks every bone in your body before cutting out your heart. And you know how I know all this, Grisha?” I smile ruthlessly at him. “Because I’ll be right there, telling him what to do next.”
Grisha’s face pales, looking green around the edges. A dark power in me surges.
Maybe Kratos’ monster has rubbed off on me. Or maybe there’s been a beast in me all along, and it’s him that’s taught me how to let it off its chain.
Suddenly, there’s a commotion. Amaya starts snapping orders, and even Grisha pulls his shit together and starts barking at his men in Russian. I’m whipping my gaze around, trying to see what’s happening, when Amaya strolls over, her eyes lancing into mine.
“Your boyfriend’s here,” she snaps coldly.
Hope surges in my chest.
“Husband,” I hiss back.
She frowns.
“My husband is here.” My lips curl. “You took so much from him,” I say thoughtfully, shaking my head. “And yet you never got what you really wanted.”
Her eyes narrow. “Careful, little girl.”
“You’re desperate enough for human contact that you had to abuse a child to get it, and you even deluded yourself into thinking it was…what?” I laugh coldly. “A relationship?! Did you think he felt anything for you besides fear and hatred? Did you seriously tell yourself you loved him? The boy you were abusing?”
Rage ignites in her face. Her eyes turn black, her lips curling.
“Is that what all this is about, you pathetic old hag?” I continue. “That I got from him what you never in a million years ever could? His love?”
Amaya blinks, her mouth opening and closing and her body swaying a little, like I’ve just hit her. I just smile.
“He loves me. And he fucking hates you—”
I cry out when her open palm connects sharply with my cheek.
“Ms. Mircari.”
With a quiet snarl, she whirls away from me and to the guard who’s just spoken.
“What?”
The man nods at the elevator, at the blinking lights signifying a rising car.
Amaya nods. “Get ready,” she barks, her lips pulling into a cold, poisonous smile. “They’re here.”
The elevator dings. The doors open.
Then I see him, and my heart lurches.
He’s wearing his mask.
Wordlessly, radiating a dark power, Kratos’ huge frame lumbers out of the elevator. He’s in black jeans and a black hoodie, wearing the mask I know all too well with the neon X’s for eyes and the leering smile.
He turns and grabs something in the elevator. With a yank, he drags a man across the floor on his knees. He’s wearing a dark gray suit, his hands bound behind his back. A black ski mask covers the man’s face, its eyes and mouth sewn shut, blinding him. With a grunt, Kratos tosses the man to the floor in front of him.
The whole place is deathly quiet. You can see and feel the uneasiness of the guards as they glance at each other and then to the giant masked psychopath standing before them.
“My my, Kratos…”
Amaya strolls forward, her brow raised as she hefts the gun in her hand.
“Bit early for Halloween, isn’t it?”
“I brought what you asked for.”
Jesus fuck. He’s using that same voice changer from before: the one that makes him sound like a demonic robot from hell.
Around me, everyone—the guards, Grisha and his men, even Amaya—stiffens a little, looking creeped the fuck out. Then Amaya recovers.
“You sure did,” she purrs, eying Drazen as he kneels on the floor.
Kratos walks over behind the Serbian and roughly kicks him in the middle of the back, shoving him flat onto the ground.
“You have what you wanted.”
He turns and jabs a big finger right at me, making me shiver.
