Page 10 of Psycho Pack

"He's hallucinating," I say, stepping back to study him properly. "Whatever they gave him in the lab, it's fucking with his head."

"Good," Thane spits. "Maybe it'll loosen his tongue." He grabs Valek's jaw, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Where is she?"

Valek's head rolls back against Whiskey's chest, a dreamy smile spreading across his bloodied face. "She's so beautiful when she cuts... Such delicate hands... Such precise strokes..."

Whiskey's arms tighten around Valek, muscles straining as he holds him in place. Blood still drips from Whiskey's broken nose, staining Valek's gray uniform darker. The sight stirs something ridiculous in me. An urge to tend to his injury that I quickly squash.

Now isn't the time for that particular weakness.

"He's not going to tell us anything useful like this," I say, studying Valek's dilated pupils. His silver eyes are unfocused, rolling in their sockets as he mumbles something about Ivy and scalpels. "Whatever they gave him, it's strong. Could take hours for it to wear off."

"We don't have hours," Thane growls.

He's right.

Another explosion rocks the facility. Chunks of ceiling rain down around us, and the walls groan ominously. Somewhere below, Wraith roars again, the sound echoing through the building's dying infrastructure. It sounds like he's further away now. Deeper underground.

"Keep him alive for now," I say. "We need to know why he took Ivy. But if we have to dump him somewhere, we dump him."

"Preferably face-first into a fuckin' barrel of shit," Whiskey growls.

Thane's face hardens. "Agreed."

I step forward, glancing over the exposed length of Valek's neck as Whiskey holds him in place. The carotid artery pulses visibly beneath his pale skin. One precise strike to the right spot...

"Sweet dreams," I mutter. My fingers find the pressure point with surgical precision, delivering a sharp blow.

Valek's eyes roll back. His body goes limp in Whiskey's arms, that manic grin finally falling from his bloodied face.

"Could've just given him one of your shots," Whiskey grunts, hefting Valek's unconscious form over his broad shoulder. The psycho's limp arms and legs sway like a fresh corpse as Whiskey takes the stairs deeper into the facility.

"And 'one of my shots' could interact with whatever's in his system, delaying our answers," I reply in a sharp tone, following him. As if he knows a damn thing about medicine beyond what to avoid mixing with his drinks if he wants to stay awake.

My gaze sweeps each cell as we pass, scanning for any signs of life. The doors hang open, their locking mechanisms dead. No power means no containment. The silence unnerves me more than screams would. At least screams mean someone's still alive.

A flash of mangled metal catches my eye. I glance toward the cell where that iron-masked monstrosity had been chained. The walls are torn to shreds, massive gashes carved deep into reinforced steel like it was paper. The chains were ripped straight out of the damn wall.

Something that powerful loose in the facility changes our tactical situation significantly. The sheer force needed to tear through these reinforced containment walls...

Yet another tremor rocks the building as I follow Whiskey into the stairwell. I brace against the wall, counting the seconds until it passes.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

The intervals between quakes are getting shorter.

This place won't hold much longer.

As we move, my fingers tap against my thigh in a pattern I haven't thought about in years. Nine beads, pause. Nine beads, pause. The rhythm of rosary prayers I learned at my mother's knee, back when I still believed in anything but science and violence.

Please let Wraith have her.Let that feral beast who terrifies even me have somehow gotten to her first.

The irony isn't lost on me. All this time, I've feared what Wraith might do to Ivy in one of his rages. Now I'm praying she's safe in his arms even as he disembowels this fucking place from the inside out.

Nine beads, pause.

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