Page 62 of Unleashing Mayhem
“Dominico?” Nightmare asked, though he didn’t think Matteo’s reaction was in keeping with his greatest fear come to life.
“No,” Matteo said dully. “But…one of his.”
The man rose unhurriedly from his seat, tossing cash on the table before walking off, the newspaper left behind.
“Is that it?” Matteo asked. “Just let him see me? Hedidsee me, right?”
Nightmare sent one of his curious shadows after the man to make sure they didn’t lose his trail, then rose from the bench, holding out his hand. “Come.”
The two of them followed Nightmare’s shadow, which led them away from the downtown area and into the surrounding neighborhood. They came around the corner to find the manhad stopped under a tree and was digging his phone out of his pocket.
About to report to his master, no doubt.
Swifter than a breath, Nightmare strode forward, letting his human nails extend into talons and pierce the man’s neck, his venom seeping out eagerly. Nightmare kept it to a light dose—this man wasn’t meant to meet death so soon. Not when he still had a role to play in their plans.
Nightmare pulled the man’s slack form into a dark patch of grass hidden by the trees and let his shadows pour forth, delving in through the cracks and crevices of his mind. The shadows found the man’s recent memories, and Nightmare began to twist them.
“Are you— What are you doing?” Matteo asked. He’d crept up to Nightmare’s side, huddling into him in a way where he didn’t come into contact with the man Nightmare held.
“He’ll remember seeing you,” Nightmare explained. “But he’ll also remember you speaking about exactly where you’ll be Friday night. You said you didn’t want Dominico finding you in Sascha’s home.”
“And he won’t remember this moment? You attacking him?”
Nightmare grinned at his shadows, busy in their work. “No.”
The man would be lucky to have the majority of his wits left when Nightmare was done with him. His shadows weren’t being particularly careful, and Nightmare wasn’t in the mood to admonish them—not when this man’s very presence had cast such a pall over their day.
“Make me happy in the memory, when he sees me,” Matteo requested, a mere whisper in Nightmare’s ear. “Make sure I’m smiling and laughing. Dominico will hate that.”
Nightmare hummed his agreement, but he didn’t share his second task as he delved into the man’s mind. Didn’t share that he was searching deeper into those recent memories until hecame upon a face. A man perhaps in his mid-fifties, with graying hair and a thin-lipped sneer. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a butterfly knife he kept flicking through his fingers as he barked out orders to the group surrounding him.
Dominico Caruso.
Nightmare couldn’t scent the man’s soul through memories, but he knew it would be vile, rotten to the core in every sense. He kept the vision of the human in his mind’s eye.
He’d know who to search for now.
“He looks uncomfortable,” Matteo said after a moment.
“It’s very painful to have your memories tampered with.” Or perhaps it was only Nightmare’s methods. It mattered little to him. This stranger had pledged his allegiance to the wrong man—pain was his due.
But Matteo didn’t chastise or balk. He cocked his head, eyeing the agonized expression on the blond’s face. “Good,” he said quietly. “I’m glad.”
And Nightmare realized in an instant that, for his mate to be so bloodthirsty, Matteo must have been hurt by this cretin, either directly or by way of this man delivering him to Dominico.
It was more difficult than Nightmare could have imagined, not killing the man that very second.
But Matteo was counting on Nightmare. So when his task was done, Nightmare released the man, letting him fall to the grass in a tangled slump. He’d sleep off what had been done to him and wake up with the memories Nightmare had created. He’d report to his leader, as intended, and Dominico would come.
And then this man would die.
Nightmare toed at the sprawled form with his booted foot. “I look forward to ripping your heart out of your chest,” he hissed.
He turned, wrapping an arm around Matteo. “Shall we get you another dessert?”
“No.” Matteo shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the unconscious man. “Take me home, please.”
When they arrivedat Sascha’s home, Matteo tugged Nightmare past the living room, where the warrior and the chaos demon were playing some card game that had Kaisyir glowering and Chaos cackling.
