Page 70 of Devil May Lie

“Rigs.”

“Ah, the blond. Of course.”

“I—”

“It’s getting late,” Berga said, “and, unfortunately, I didn’t bring any other drug worth experimenting with tonight. I’m not a fan of blasters,” he glanced pointedly at the puddle of brains and blood, “too messy. So I’ll make you a deal. You get to live.”

“I do?”

Berga took a step forward and Paradox panicked and grabbed the gun with his other hand as well.

Madden wanted to stop him, a rush of worry zipping through him, but Berga didn’t seem to share in that concern.

“In exchange,” Berga continued evenly, “you’ll help me spread a message. Can you do that?”

Paradox frantically nodded in the affirmative.

“Royal Madden Odell belongs to the Butcher.” Gently, he took the blaster out of the trembling man's hands. “And I’m protective of my things.”

He aimed low and emptied the clip into Canham’s body, not even twitching when blood splattered across his legs and his bare feet, maintaining eye contact with Paradox all the while.

Madden's worry grew. That was very unlike Berga. Was he going to have another episode now? The doctor had been clear that he needed rest. What if this set him off a second time that night? Would he be okay?

“See? Messy. If anyone from Grimes and Fraunz even considers coming for revenge,” Berga said as soon as the last echo from the final shot dissipated, “remind them I can have their entire family poisoned with far worse than what I gave Canham before any of them even know to watch out. I am off limits. What’s mine is off limits.” He leaned toward the shaking man. “Understood?”

“Y-yes!”

Berga motioned with the gun. “Run along then. I’m bored now.”

Paradox tripped over his own heels retreating, hitting the ground with a hard whack. He was back on his feet and racing off into the darkness within seconds though, not even sparing a second glance at his fallen leader.

“Tell me I’ve never looked hotter,” Berga ordered, and as the only other person still with him, it was obvious he was talking to Madden.

“You’re legitimately the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I know you don’t like it on you, but red really is your color, baby,” he said, watching closely as the Butcher’s shoulders started to quake.

“Hey, Mad King,” Berga kept his back to him, but his voice sounded off, “Can you come here?”

Madden barely made it in time to catch the Butcher as he crumbled. Maybe it was for the best he’d lost consciousness again. It could be that was his brain's way of protecting himself from having to see the blood splatters on his body.

“What happened?!” Bay came running down the steps, and Madden barely held his tongue from demanding what took him so long.

“He passed out,” Madden explained, lifting Berga into his arms. He headed back upstairs, passing Guest in the process. “Clean this place up,” he told the racer. “Bay. Call the doctor again for me. And someone put out my flaming hoverbike, damn it.”

This was starting to feel like the longest night of his damn life.

Chapter 18:

His head felt like it’d been split open, filled with thumbtacks, and then stitched back together again with razor wire. The incessant ringing wasn’t helping matters, and with a groan, Berga reached out, slapping a hand against the dark gray end table where he typically kept his multi-slate, only to find the spot empty.

He lifted into a sitting position, rubbing at his temples in preparation before he peeled his eyes open. Sure enough, warm sunlight beamed in from the windows, adding insult to injury. Now that he had his bearings, it was easier to tell that his device was across the room, and he stumbled to his feet and over to it, tapping the screen to make it shut up.

How did he get back to his place?

Berga frowned, needing to use the long dresser where his multi-slate was placed to help keep balance as he turned and glanced around the space of his bedroom. The spot on the bed next to where he’d just been sleeping was empty, and when he tipped his head toward the bathroom, it seemed like the same could be said about that area.

The last thing he remembered, he was with Madden at the Docks. Someone had attacked the boathouse and Berga had been cranky about all of the noise and worthless threats against the Mad King. He was pretty sure he’d handled the situation but after that…It was all a blur.

Had Madden brought him home and left him? Again?

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