Page 180 of Hell and High Water

“Because that’s what conquerors do, Elena. The Conquistadors of old could have lived, let live. To a degree. But they had the divine on their side. Just like I do, a mission that I cannot abandon, that I will not abandon. At any cost.”

He sounds sullen, resolved. Like it’s out of his hands.

Not like a zealot. Not ravenous to destroy.

Just given over to his baser nature, cynical in his acceptance of his violent world and his place in it.

Rising, Marco circles around, snatching a handful of Tell’s hair before I can react. Jerking his head back, he holds out his hand, waiting for the knife one of the men places there.

“No! Get your fucking hands off him!”

“I’m going to ask you a question, Elena. And I need you to answer me. I want honesty, so I need insurance.” He presses the point to Tell’s aorta, a drop of blood pooling there.

“I hate you.”

“Oh, good. It’s working,” he sneers.

“Ask your fucking questions.”

“Say please.”

“Please.”

“Do you know who is in charge? These Sinful? Who are they?”

“They’re heads of rich families. Business leaders. People of status, but unassuming, working from the shadows.”

“Like him?” Marco growls, shaking Tell’s head viciously. “He’s the late mayor’s boy, isn’t he? Is he one of them?”

“No! Stop!”

“Tell me the truth, Elena!” He jabs Tell’s neck harder, making him yelp against the pain. His whole body is wrecked, flinching back from Marco’s presence.

“Fine! They’re all dead. Every one of them.”

“You’re lying!”

“I’m not!”

“Your father is still out there, isn't he? Where is Damon, Helena? Hiding while his daughter is being tortured and beaten?” He lashes out again with the back of his hand, taking me under the chin, flinging me back.

The impact stuns me, the sting in my jaw fading as I sit back up. “Damon is dead.”

Marco looks more pleased than ever, dropping Tell to the floor in a heap. “See? That wasn’t so hard. Now. Tell me one. Last. Truth.”

His face inches closer to mine, his cigar soured breath choking me.

“Who is the last Sinful?”

I stare into those black pools of hopelessness for what feels like an eternity before I can speak. To say the words I know he wants to hear most.

“I–I am.”

“There. There she is.” He smiles, seeing the resolve settle over me. “Come. Get up. We’re leaving.”

With forced assistance, I’m dragged to my feet.

“I won’t. You should kill me now.”

---