Page 67 of The Devil's Dilemma

My heart raced at the thought of doing something other than running a fucking casino. It had served its purpose, but it was time to up my game again.

I opened a portal and found myself in a pub not too far away. A handful of men sat at the bar, staring at me with their mouths hanging open. I clicked my fingers and locked the doors.

“So, gentlemen. Who paid you for that little stunt today?”

I knew no one would talk. They never did, and that made my job all the more enjoyable.

“We don’t know what you’re talking about.” A beefy guy stood.

“Oh, I think you do. You could help yourselves out and tell me who it was, or you can die an unpleasant death. What’s your choice?”

Several men looked nervously at each other. A few joined the man standing at the bar.

Okay, we were doing this, then.

I could have made it quick, but where was the fun in that? And as much as the odds appeared to be in their favour, they never were.

Six men faced me, with four behind, and when they lunged, I simply side-stepped, grabbed the nearest one by the throat, and lifted him off his feet. Another advanced from the right. I pointed to his chest, and he dropped like a stone, always a pleasurable sight. He crumpled, and the skin slipped from his face, revealing muscle and bone, then dissolved. Another joined the ranks below.

One or two faltered, but it was too late. I wasn’t about to stop now.

Normally, I liked to draw out my game, but as each one came close, I killed them where they stood until only two remained. One I had dangling by his neck, his face turning a delicate shade of purple.

He appeared to be the ring leader and most likely to give me the information I required.

I summoned a chair and he collapsed onto it but restricted his ability to move.

I did the same with the other and circled them, enjoying the sight of them struggling to free themselves.

“Let’s start again. Earlier today, you visited a house, looking for someone. Tell me who sent you and why. And please don’t even think of lying to me. I’ll know. Believe me, I’ll know.”

“We received a text. That was it. A £50,000 reward for anyone who could kill the guy.”

“How did you know who to look for?”

“They sent a picture with the text.”

“Where is it?”

“I don’t have the text anymore. They disappear after twelve hours. No record on anyone’s side, then.”

Damn it.

“And you don’t know who sent it?”

“I told you. We’re all mercenaries. We get paid to do a job. We don’t ask questions. We get paid once the job is done.”

“How do they know you’ve done the job?”

The talkative guy shrugged. The other stayed silent.

“I don’t know. The money just appears in our account once it’s completed.”

“Have you any idea who you’re dealing with?”

“You’re the guy who runs the casino. The one with the fake horns.”

And there it was. No one knew the real me. I was just that guy who ran the casino.

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