Page 168 of Body and Soul

With a vicious yank, I pulled the rosary taut around his throat. He made a choked, gurgling sound, his bound hands scrabbling uselessly at the air. I pulled the chain tighter, feeling it bite into my palms as Ezekiel sputtered and gasped. His face turned a mottled purple, eyes bulging in their sockets. He made these awful, wet choking noises, his body convulsing and jerking like a fish on a hook. But I didn't let up. I couldn't.

“This is for everyone you ever hurt,” I snarled. “Every gentle soul you tried to break. “This is for Daniella, and for Noah.”

The silver bit deeper into his neck, splitting the skin.

“This is for Shepherd, for Keres and Bryce and Dex…And for Azreal.”

A wet, rattling sound emerged from his ruined throat.

“But this? This is forme.” I tightened the chain until I could hear it straining, until the metal bit into my palms deep enough to ache.

His legs kicked weakly, the fight draining out of him. His body convulsed, but I held on, my arms shaking, hands slick with sweat and blood. I gritted my teeth and wrenched the chain impossibly tighter. Ezekiel shuddered violently, a marionette dancing on strings of vengeance and silver.

With one last desperate gurgle, Ezekiel finally went limp, his body slumping forward like a marionette with its strings cut. The rosary chain suddenly shattered with a delicate tinkling sound,sending tiny beads scattering across the blood-slicked concrete like macabre confetti.

Ezekiel’s head lolled to the side, eyes blank and fixed on nothing.

I stood there panting, still clutching the chain in a white-knuckled grip. Holy fuck. I'd done it. I'd actually done it. The monster was dead.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears, nearly drowning out the ringing silence in the room. I stared at Ezekiel's lifeless body, at the garish slashes marring his chest, the unnatural angle of his neck in the noose of his own broken rosary chain. His pale eyes were open but unseeing, glassy like a fucking doll's.

It didn't feel real. After so many years haunted by this sadistic fuck, by the scars he'd carved into my psyche, seeing him reduced to a broken sack of meat and bone... I couldn't process it.

I stumbled back a step, then another, until I collided with a solid warmth. Shepherd. His strong hands gripped my shoulders, anchoring me as the room swayed.

“Breathe, Eli,” came Shepherd’s voice.

I sucked in a shuddering breath, the thick copper reek of blood coating my tongue. I barely heard Shepherd, my gaze still locked on Ezekiel's corpse. It was over. It was finally fucking over.

“Eli.” Shepherd's voice cut through the static in my head. His grip on my shoulders tightened. “Look at me.”

I dragged my gaze away from Ezekiel to meet Shepherd's dark eyes.

Concern furrowed his brow as he studied my face. “Come with me,” he demanded and took my hand.

My legs felt like jelly as Shepherd guided me out of that room, away from the gruesome display of Ezekiel's lifeless body. I couldn't tear my eyes away until the door clanged shut behind us, the sound echoing through the cavernous factory space.

It was like a fucking dream, surreal and disjointed. I kept expecting to blink and find myself back in that room, Ezekiel's eyes boring into me, his voice dripping with disdain as he told me how worthless I was, how I deserved every ounce of pain. But it didn't happen. I just kept putting one foot in front of the other, Shepherd's solid presence at my back pulling me forward.

We emerged into the cool night air, and I gulped it down, desperate to clear the cloying stench of blood from my lungs. The gravel crunched under my boots, the scrape of it too loud in my ears. Everything felt too bright, too sharp, like someone had cranked the dial on reality to eleven.

I stumbled to a stop next to Shepherd's SUV, bracing my hands on the hood, the metal cooler under my overheated skin. A tremor started in my fingers and spread up my arms until my whole body was shaking like I was coming down from a week-long bender.

“Fuck,” I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut as hot tears pricked at the corners.

My stomach heaved, and I barely managed to make it to the scraggly bushes before I was puking my guts out, spewing bile until there was nothing left but dry heaves that felt like they were tearing my insides apart. The sour stench of vomit mixed with the lingering copper of blood, making my head spin.

I'd always known I had a well of darkness inside me, a yawning pit of rage and pain that Ezekiel had carved out long ago. But I never thought I'd be capable of... that. Of taking pleasure in making someone suffer, in watching the life drain from their eyes.

What did that make me? No better than him?

I spat into the dirt, trying to get the acrid taste out of my mouth. My head was pounding, thoughts whirling like a fucking hurricane. I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes untilspots danced in the darkness, trying to force back the hot sting of tears.

The crunch of footsteps made me tense, but then Shepherd's low, soothing rumble washed over me. “It's just me, Eli.”

A warm, heavy hand settled between my shoulder blades, the touch grounding me even as I felt like I might vibrate out of my own skin.

“I killed him,” I croaked, my voice wrecked. “I fucking killed him, Shepherd.”

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