Page 15 of Monstrous Travels as Wicked as Sin

“Netherworld?” Joe mouthed over the top of him.

Percy shrugged cheerily and cracked double elbows down on Dubois’s back. He took his head in his hands and prepared to sever the spinal cord with a twist.

But, of course, Joe placed a hand on his, and dropped the infuriating words, “Do you have to break his neck?”

Percy stomped in a pool of blood just like a child and yelled, “He’s a goddamn killer! If there’s anyone I should be able to kill, it’s this bastard!”

“I agree,” said Joe, “in principle. But… this just feels a little cold-blooded, you know?”

“Do you want to talk about blood?” Percy smashed a knee down on Dubois’s struggling back to hold him in place and thrust a finger towards the still-spinning entrails. “Not one of those people will be going home tonight because of him.” Percy closed a hand over Dubois’s mouth and nose, wrapping his other hand tight around his throat.

“Are you suffocating him?” Joe gasped out.

“Shhhht!” Percy threw back, fuming, but wondering all the while how Joe managed to get him in a similar chokehold every time. Always with the not killing people. Unless he had a ‘good’ reason. He knew he never should have taken up with a priest. Even if he was sweet. And gorgeous. Even if he had a beautiful soul. Even if he was, all things considered, the best man Percy had ever met. And even if his dick was the most spectacular thing he had ever?—

A sickening gurgling snapped him out of his increasingly delicious thoughts, so he squeezed a little tighter.

“Percy!”

“Just…” Percy let out a long breath. “We’ll talk when he’s unconscious.”

“Oh. Okay, then.” So Joe waited for Percy to semi-strangle Dubois. Which took longer than he thought it would, were he given to thinking about such things. “Do you think that might give him brain damage?”

“It would be an improvement,” Percy gritted out.

Joe shrugged a half agreement, and a few seconds later, Dubois was dropped to the floor with his face in a puddle of blood. Percy, loyally, kicked him over so he could breathe, pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He threw the case and lighter across to Joe, who did the same. Percy shoved the smoke into the corner of his mouth and pulled the real painting, in its box, off the bed, saying, “We need to go right now. If we’re lucky, he’ll think we left him the painting and he’ll become no more than another player in our gallery of villains. But you must understand the risk in us doing this. He has my name. And he’s not some neo-Nazi thug. He’s a billionaire. He could have either of us killed on a whim tomorrow.”

“Sorry.” Joe paled, but still grabbed their bag and pulled the door wide open for Percy. “I forgot. Just for a second. It just seemed so brutal to do it like that.”

Percy shuffled halfway through the door, side stepping Joe. “That’s generally how murder works. I don’t want to be too blunt, but if you’re going to be in the business, you may need to toughen up just a little.”

“If?” Joe placed two stalling hands on the box, pulling Percy back. “I thought this was our thing now? Partners in crime.”

“Handsome,” said Percy, bemused by the combination of worry, disappointment, hopefulness, and downright irrefusable expectancy in Joe’s gorgeous features, “to be partners in crime, you occasionally have to do crime.”

Joe ripped the painting out of his hands. “I’m doing crime. Watch me steal this painting.”

Percy pulled the painting back, and Joe along with it. “Kiss me first.”

Joe raised a coy chin. “And we’ll be partners?”

“Forever.”

It was just as well Percy had asked for the kiss, because when Joe leaned forward, Dubois’s bullet missed his skull by millimetres.

“The fuck!” yelled Joe.

“Dracula!” screamed Dubois.

“Shit,” muttered Percy. He and Joe tumbled out into the stairway, with Percy just managing to hook the door handle and pull it closed before they tripped over one another. Both grabbed the painting, Percy ran up, Joe ran down, and the violent division sent them both crashing back to the ground.

“Are you insane?” Joe whispered, picking himself back up. “This way!”

Percy yanked the painting back. “That’s exactly what he’ll expect. Let’s make for the roof and wait until he thinks we’ve escaped.”

Percy almost fell over again with the energy Joe used to pull the painting back. “Rule number one of horror movies is don’t run upstairs.”

“Rules are for other people.” Percy leaned close over the painting, his eyes burning into Joe with knee-melting authority. “That way is people. That way is discovery. That way is death. I’ve done this before. Now do you trust me or don’t you?”

---