Page 13 of Beta Lies and Cursed Lives
What he says is true. I’ve always known it, and yet...
“Allow me to give your first purposeful kill meaning.” His head tilts as he looks down at me. “This scientist’s cruelty is only surpassed by those on the Council. He’s defenseless without his security detail, and that detail answers to me.” The smile that stretches across his face is twisted. “Once he is gone, I will persuade the Council to instate one of mine as the head researcher at the facility. They’ll have no choice. Do as I say, and I will have your father transferred to the prison as soon as possible. A far better fate than awaits him now, and the possibility of future release into the armed forces. If he behaves.”
My back shoots up ramrod straight. There’s no way I can trust this man. Can I? Yet he seems hellbent on this Beta dying.
“Why can’t you do it?”
“If I did it, my loyalty would be questioned. I wouldn’t be able to put someone I trust in charge of the facility.”
I give him a disbelieving look. “And me doing your dirty work would make a difference?”
“Would you prefer your father to stay in Tenebrosa?” his tone is harsh. “Experimented on for the rest of his life, which will end prematurely, I promise you.” He takes a step closer, so close that I lean back out of habit to avoid possible contact. “This man cuts Cursed open, removes organs and limbs. Without anesthesia.”
That acid fills my mouth now, forcing me to spit on the floor before gulping for air.
I can’t let my father endure that. Not when I have a chance to possibly save him from this fate.
“I see you understand now.” He steps away from me, his hands clasped behind his back. “Do this, Miranda. Help us both. Help your father.”
I must be out of my mind because I believe him.
But can I purposely kill someone?
Visions of my childhood flash in my brain: of my mother shouting at me in anger because I wouldn’t go with her to the store without my father. Of me screaming that I hated her. Of her hand coming down to slap my face. The moment it connected with my skin, that unmistakable crackling as she snap-froze before my eyes, right in the middle of my bedroom. How my father came running into the room at the ruckus, finding me there, mute and gaping at the ice sculpture that was once my mother. The look of fear in his eyes as he assessed what had happened. How I screamed at him not to touch me and backed away when he tried to embrace me.
My father, who gave up his entire life to keep me safe. Out of love. Out of guilt.
How could I not do this for him?
Tears swim in my vision as I look at Major Tomlin, my jaw set with decision and rage.
I say nothing. There’s no need to.
Tomlin gives a slow affirmative nod and turns to the soldiers guarding the doorway. “Bring in Dr. Ness. No one else.”
One soldier claps his heels and salutes before leaving. He returns only a moment later with the old man with the hook-nose and glasses in the white lab coat. His severe face goes more sour at the sight of Tomlin beside me.
“What’s the meaning of this, Major?”
“I’ve convinced the subject to give you a personal demonstration of her curse.”
This brings an odd glimmer to the old man’s eyes, and I know instantly that everything Tomlin has said is true. The cruelty there is something I have only ever seen on TV when the Council gives their bloated speeches and tells the world how they’re keeping us all safe from the vile Cursed.
“Is that so?” As he approaches, he pushes his glasses up his nose and grins. He fucking smiles like a sadist.
Tomlin looks at me and asks, “Are you ready?”
His question holds meaning the scientist isn’t privy to. The moment he finishes speaking, my gloves are on the floor, and I rush the old man with all the power my legs can give after the emotional duress of the past couple of days. I double-fist him in the gut so hard he flies backward with a silent cry, the air pummeled out of his slight frame.
I want him to suffer. For what he wants to do to my dad. For what he likely wants to do to me. For what he has already done to countless others. But somewhere in my enraged brain, my self-preservation still lives on. I can’t allow him to alert anyone of what’s happening until it’s already done.
I give Dr. Ness no time to recover before I’m on him, my bare hands wrapped around his scrawny neck in a vice-grip that’s wholly unsatisfying since his body does what everyone’s does at my touch: snaps to solid ice in a blink.
My breath comes ragged and fast as I seethe down at the clear face below me, little delicate glasses still somehow on his nose after the initial blow I’d given him.
I’ve never been so angry, yet so elated.
And that scares me shitless.
