Page 78 of Final Vendetta

Agent Myers stood in the doorway, his expression calm and almost amused as he watched me.

“Welcome back, 671,” he said, his voice as smooth and polished as ever, referring to me with the number that was once tattooed on my arm.

My stomach churned, but I forced myself to hold his gaze, masking any hint of surprise or confusion from seeing him here.

His smile widened, a chilling expression that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Gideon

“I’m here now,” I ground out, glaring at Myers with pure disgust in my eyes. Just me, him, and the icy floor beneath my knees. “Let Imogene go.”

Myers chuckled, the sound low and condescending. He clasped his hands behind his back, pacing a slow circle around me. His dark suit was spotless, his tie perfectly knotted, an unsettling contrast to the cold, grimy concrete walls surrounding us.

“Ah, yes, our bargain. I did say I’d release her once you came, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t just say it. You promised it. Let her go.”

Myers came to a stop in front of me and tilted his head to the side, studying me with dark, calculating eyes. “Circumstances have changed.”

A muscle in my jaw twitched, but I forced myself to hold his gaze. “Circumstances haven’t changed. I’m here. You don’t need her anymore.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong.” Myers’ tone took on that detached, clinical edge that made my skin crawl.

From the second he showed up at the house to ask Imogene about the break-in, I sensed there was something off about him. Sensed I shouldn’t have trusted him. Now I knew why.

But if he already knew who I was, why all the questions? Or was it just another test? Another twisted game?

I had a feeling I already knew the answer.

“Imogene is proving to be far more fascinating than I anticipated,” he continued. “Do you know how rare it is to find someone with her background, her resilience, her…potential?”

“Potential?” I pushed down the bile rising in my throat at hearing him talk about her like she was just another test subject.

Then again, that was all any of us were to him. Just pawns in his game of power and control.

“She’s quite fascinating. In fact, it was her father that prompted me to study criminology in college. To eventually join the Bureau in the hopes of profiling criminals just like him. Figure out what makes them tick. And Imogene’s father, Domenic Jaskulski, he wasn’t just your run-of-the-mill serial killer.”

A twisted grin curled on his face that churned my stomach.

Almost like he respected Imogene’s father.

“What I loved about him was the game he played. How he studied his targets for months before determining if they were what he was looking for. He knew exactly what to do in order to manipulate them into doing precisely what he wanted, which ended with them taking their own lives. It’s quite remarkable if you think about it — a serial killer who never actually killed. Well, until later on,” he added quickly.

“Imogene’s nothing like him,” I hissed, pinning him with a lethal glare.

“You see, that’s where we disagree. I think the more accurate statement would be that shepretendsshe’s not like him. Deep down, she’s more like her father than she wants to believe.”

“What do you want from her? From me? From all of this?”

“Answers. Her father’s actions made me think. If he was able to manipulate people into taking their own lives, it stood to reason one would be able to manipulate someone into killing other people.”

“You’re insane.” I lunged for him, but the chains attached to my wrists and ankles prevented me from reaching him.

Instead, he stared at me with that same smug look on his face.

“Am I? Or am I simply asking the questions everyone else is too afraid to confront?” Myers’ voice rose slightly, his eyes gleaming with a fervor that bordered on madness. “What creates a killer? Nature? Nurture? Circumstance? Something else entirely? It’s a fascinating subject. One I’m looking forward to exploring with Imogene.”

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