Page 1 of Vicious Savage

1

ATTILA

Ihave a moral compass. I do.

No women, no children. I won’t touch the elderly, and I won’t even look at someone with a disability. But stupidity does not count as a disability, no matter what anyone tells you.

I’m a killer. I was born to kill. But I have values, you see.

I watch Caleph and Ariadne disappear into the distance as my chopper flies away. I miss them already. Caleph is the brother I grew up with. Ariadne is the sister that came into my life at a time when I was standing on the tight precipice between humanity and monstrosity. She showed me that I could be both. For those close to me, I could be human. For all others, they got the monster in me. Because that’s all most people deserve. But Ariadne is different; she is good for us all. And she came at a pivotal point in our lives.

I know that Caleph’s hands are itching to get on the chopper with us. He wants nothing more than to do that, but now there is too much at stake for him. His thirst for vengeance is great, but his love for Ariadne is greater. So he watches us climb the aircraft and waves us away with a promise to keep him updated. When the time comes, he will be on the first plane out to meet us no matter where we are, but for now, he understands that the situation is in capable hands.

He’s offered us his immense cache of resources, including the numerous bodyguards and strong arms he has scattered all along the coast. All at our disposal any time we need them. Combined with our own resources, we literally have a small army to deal with Coyin Castillo and what’s left of his family.

The plan is to use his daughter to lure him out of hiding. Not to hurt her, because again, I am a man with standards and values. I don’t hurt women, and I know The Jekyll feels the same. But I wouldn’t hesitate to use her as a tool to flush her father out of the woodwork.

Travelling with The Jekyll has been an exercise in patience. I’ve had to adapt to his grunting and head nodding to gauge his thoughts. He doesn’t talk much, and now I know he doesn’t really appreciate my jokes. But we’re quickly becoming friends. If there’s a need to say something, he’ll say it. Everything else is off limits. He doesn’t believe in speaking if there’s nothing relevant to say. So I’m surprised when he actually opens his mouth of his own accord and starts to speak.

“We’re in agreement,” he reiterates, although it’s like he’s looking for confirmation, “That the girl doesn’t get hurt.”

My eyes observe him with a flicker of suspicion. Does he not trust me? Does he actually think I would hurt a woman?

“I told you, I don’t do women and children.”

“Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“That’s rich coming from a man who dragged a woman across the road and kidnapped her.”

I remind him of what he did to Ariadne when he kidnapped her months ago. My anger simmers beneath the surface, threatening to erupt. I could live with many things, could even forgive much. But not violence against my sister.

“You know why I did that.”

“I do. That doesn’t make it right.”

“Will youeverget over that?” he asks me.

“Doubtful. I’m surprised she’s forgiven you. I expected her to gouge your eyes out when she saw you on that boat.”

“But she didn’t. Which means she’s past it and now you need to move on, too.”

I scoff when I look at him, my sarcasm apparent. “Dude, I think she’s biding her time until she finds the opportunity to drive a knife through your heart.”

* * *

“Are you sure that’s her?”I ask, looking from my phone to the girl sitting across the road in the cafe.

I look over at The Jekyll for confirmation. He sits looking into the cafe, as though afraid if he blinks, he’ll lose her.

“That’s her.” He’s emphatic when he speaks, and for now, that’s enough for me.

“Looks like she hasn’t inherited anything from her father,” I snicker, looking at the long dark blonde hair that falls in a blanket across one side of her face.

I watch the girl as she lowers her eyes to the table, doing something with her hands, then as she lifts her head and folds her waves back over her shoulder. Her hair is so long, I think it must reach her waist. We can’t see anything past her shoulders and head as she sits in the booth she’s occupied for the past two hours. The muscles in my long legs are wound tight from sitting in the same position for that long.

“We have to make sure we have the right girl,” I tell him. “We only get one shot at this; if we stuff up, Coyin will see us coming from a mile away.”

“I’m sure it’s her.”

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