Page 63 of Princess Broken

After what he did to that human, the pain in this asshole’s eyes fuels something inside me. My vision turns red.

My years of training and experience kick in, building up hostility inside me—unwavering, unrelenting. I will do anything to complete my mission. Nothing is off limits. Absolutely nothing.

Catching myself, I draw a long breath and close my eyes for an instant.

Releasing Enzo’s balls, I step back.

The sleazy vampire crouches against the wall, whimpering as his crushed balls heal. He’ll soon recover from my punishing grip, but that doesn’t excuse what I did. Nor does our mission. I went too far.

Since we left the Master, I’ve worked hard to control the demon that lives deep inside me, but I’ve yet to succeed. That’s why I empathize with Phil’s explosive temper, Blade’s inability to resist cutting—himself or others—and Flame’s continued fascination with starting fires. We’ve all got our demons.

I remain still, waiting for Enzo to recuperate. He finally stands, zips up his pants, and then presses back against the stained, concrete wall. His continuing fear crushes every other possible emotion that might show up in his eyes. Fear wafts off this guy in buckets.

“Have time to for a quick chat?” I ask, like we’ve just run into each other on the street.

Enzo nods, vigorously, willing to do anything to please me. My tactics are cruel, but they work.

“You hear anything about a meeting a few nights ago, between DEFTA and the Marianos?”

His back seems to sink into the wall behind him, like he’s hoping it will absorb him, or turn him invisible.

I lean against the wall with both arms, my hands above his head as I glare down at the man who’s probably a foot shorter than my six seven. Not to mention the hundred and fifty pounds of muscle I’ve got over him.

Enzo’s got to feel trapped, like a caged animal, and I fight the huge rush of excitement that image brings me.

That’s not who I am. Not anymore.

“Tell me what you know,” I say calmly, like we’re chatting.

“Don’t know much,” Enzo says, clearly anxious to please me. “Heard there was plenty of bloodshed, though. And that princess and her personal guard disappeared.”

I nod. Interesting that he called Ana’s mate her guard. Also interesting that he’s heard Timur disappeared versus being dead… But that part tracks. The Marianos would cover up Timur’s death to avoid taking blame.

“Why did Mariano order a hit on the princess?” I ask, trying to flavor my voice with more curiosity than menace. I’ve got about a fuck ton of menace to add—when and if I need it.

Enzo rapidly shakes his head, raising his hands between us. “I don’t know, man, honest. Everyone says Mariano’s gone nuts. Like he’s possessed by the devil or some shit.”

I frown. Mariano has always been evil, but a predictable, manageable kind of evil, driven by the power he gains through using his vampiric abilities with cruelty. Power he lacked in the human mafia before he was turned. Word has it, the vast majority of Mariano’s vampire soldiers are his own Progeny—most of them former gangsters too. The Mariano syndicate is incestuous as fuck.

That’s why Mariano contracts us, when he needs a job done right, or, as I’ve always suspected, when he wants protection from his own team. Not all Progeny remain faithful to their Makers, especially if those Makers are cruel—my brothers and I are proof enough of that.

But none of this explains why the massacre happened. Or why Mariano didn’t tell us about his plan when we negotiated the protection contract. Or why he asked us last minute to nab the princess—not part of the deal.

“What the fuck, Crusher?” Phil comes up beside me. “You having fun without us?”

Blade arrives too, and a long knife shoots from his sleeve into his palm. Blade quickly directs its point at Enzo, stopping it an inch away from his eye.

Enzo’s head crushes back against the concrete.

“Look who I ran in to,” I say casually. “Enzo and I have been chatting about that meeting at Mariano’s that went to shit.” I lean toward the snivelling vampire. His fear fully pumped up now, rising to new heights. No need for me to destroy more parts of his anatomy in my crushing grip. Not yet.

“Does Enzo need some motivation to talk?” Phil asks me. “Cause I’ve got a bomb in my pocket with his asshole’s name on it.” Phil chuckles.

Enzo starts visibly shaking.

“Sticking a live grenade up Enzo’s ass.” I nod, as if Phil has suggested we have burgers for lunch. “That’s an idea. But sounds kind of messy. Maybe Enzo would like to share a few more things before you scatter bits of his body all over this room.”

I turn to Phil, and we both grin. Blade’s knife is trained on Enzo’s eyeball.

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