Page 64 of Monsters Carve Thrones
“Does he still deal in trafficking?” I asked, my heart pounding against my ribcage.
“No, man,” Stepan sputtered. “What I sent him was his last deal. He moved on to drugs and laundering after that. He still bought a couple from me, but didn’t sell them out.”
My jaw clenched so hard it nearly broke. “So you must know of his location.”
“No, Vaughan, I don’t–”
I drove the knife in again, this time higher. His scream turned to a gurgle. The blood soaked my shirt, warm and sticky.
Behind me, I could hear Nico mutter, “Jesus Christ.”
Kieran didn’t say anything. He never did when I got like this.
And Laura…her breathing was unsteady. I didn’t have to turn around to know she was shaking. But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t feel sorry. Not when Adela was still in that bastard’s hands. Not when she was undoubtedly being abused and raped.
I grabbed the man by the collar and yanked his face toward mine, blood leaking from his lips. “Tell me one more time you don’t know anything. Lie to me again.”
“I don’t–”
I embedded the blade into his throat and twisted, silencing him for good. The body jerked, then stilled beneath me. My hands were soaked, chest heaving. The floor beneath me was slippery with blood.
No one spoke.
I stood slowly, panting, adrenaline humming like a second heartbeat in my ears. My shirt was ruined, my skin sticky and warm with red. I turned toward them, chest rising and falling.
Laura stared at me like she didn’t recognize the man in front of her. Her eyes were wide, mouth slightly open, hands trembling. Kieran kept his expression locked down, but his knuckles were white on his gun. And Nico…Nico looked away first.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, laughing softly. “Guess he didn’t know shit,” I muttered.
No one laughed with me. Fuck it. I was already dead inside anyway.
I changed in silence. The bastard had a closet full of expensive shit–designer button-downs, pressed linen, tailored jackets. I grabbed a black tee, plain and soft, and yanked it overmy head after wiping most of the blood from my skin with his silk bedsheets. Fitting. Let him be buried in the mess he helped create.
No one spoke as we left. The stairwell echoed under our boots, and the city outside felt colder than it had ten minutes ago. Or maybe it was me. Perhaps I’d gone ice in the bones again.
The car ride back to the hotel was suffocating. Kieran drove like he wanted to get us out of Poland in ten minutes flat. Nico stared out the window, knuckles clenched around the handle above his head. Laura sat beside me in the back, too close and too quiet, like she wasn’t sure if I’d come unglued again.
She didn’t understand. She couldn’t possibly understand what it felt like...knowing Adela was still with him.
Stillhis.
My teeth ground together as I stared straight ahead. Every bump in the road rattled through my joints, like my nerves had been wired with copper. I flexed my hands, still faintly stained with blood. Couldn’t quite get them clean.
Couldn’t get her out of my mind. I imagined her bruised. Imagined him putting his hands on her. Heard her crying out for me when I wasn’t there.
It hollowed me out.
I was drowning in this rage, grief, fucking despair…and all I could do was carve through it, corpse by corpse, until I reached her.
And when I did… when I finally had her back?
I’d burn it all.
Every fucking man who helped Waylon. Every arm that reached across the globe to shield him. Every shipment, every trade route, every bullet. I’d salt the ground until his empire turned to ash, until no onedaredwhisper his name again. Theycould run. They could hide behind their money, their power, their fences of fire and steel. But I was coming. I’d already died in the process of trying to save her. What was left of me was just a blade. Just a beast in the dark.
When we pulled into the hotel garage, no one moved for a second. Kieran was the first to get out. Nico followed. Laura touched my arm lightly, almost afraid.
“Rafe,” she said softly. “Are you–”
