Page 75 of Whispers of the Dead

Damon’s face is stone, but I can still see the tension in his stance. I don’t know what happened to him after I left him on the roof, but I’m glad to see he’s still alive. If only his eyes didn’t mirror my own heartbreak.

Then there’s Benji. He stares at me, as if he’s still trying to figure out why I sacrificed myself for them. The devastation on his face is mixed with guilt, which I assume can only be because of our last conversation. I hated leaving things how we did, but I hope he saw my message in the dust. I know where we are, and reinforcements aren’t far. They’ll come back for me, I know it.

Eugene leans in closer, sending a shiver of disgust down my spine, but I don’t move, except for the shudder of revulsion that moves through me. “Since Damon got a pass last time, we’ll start with the other two.” He nods to his men near the platform. “Cole and Benji.”

No.

“They will fight. They will bleed.”

Benji’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t react. Instead, his haunted gaze stays locked onto mine.

The dregs unchain them, and shove them between the ropes and onto the platform. I jolt in my seat and grip the table so hard my fingers ache.

Cole spins around and reaches for one of the dregs, but when he does, Eugene shouts out for him.

I feel the cold press of sharp metal against my throat, and my breath catches. “Touch anyone but each other, and you won’t be the only one bleeding.”

Cole freezes.

I force my fear into hiding. “You wouldn’t dare. Not after everything it took you to get me here.”

Eugene turns his yellow-toothed grin on me. “Exactly. Now that I have you, I can do whatever I want with you.Including carving my name into whichever part of your body I please.” He reaches out to touch the growing bruise on my cheek, and I flinch back. “I’ve already started leaving my mark on you.”

Cole’s entire body trembles with fury. He takes a step, but then Eugene tilts the knife and a single drop of blood falls down my neck, halting Cole in his tracks. He doesn’t risk it.

The moment their cuffs fall, the dregs outside the platform raise their weapons of guns, tasers, and polished knives that gleam in the light.

Cole and Benji stand opposite each other. The tension crackles.

Benji is the first to break the silence. “Just do it. I deserve this.”

Cole doesn’t move. “No.”

Benji steps forward, and his hands ball into fists. “Dammit, Cole. Do it already. Hit me!”

One dreg lunges forward and shoves his taser between the ropes and straight to Cole’s ribs. Electricity rips through him. He jerks with such violence that a strangled sound escapes his throat, but he remains upright.

“That was a warning,” Eugene says around a mouthful of food. Some of it falls onto the table, partially chewed. “Either you bleed, or she does. Now get to it. I’m bored of this hesitation.”

I barely hear the crack of impact from Cole throwing the first punch, due to the blood roaring in my ears.

Blood spatters everywhere. So much blood.

Benji staggers, his lip split, his nose bleeding.

“Let’s up the ante, shall we?” Eugene waves a lazy hand, and Cole’s and Benji’s hands are yanked behind their backs and shackles slammed back onto their wrists. Then a figure steps forward from the shadows. A rotter.

Chains clatter when it’s shoved forward, snarling, its rotting hands outstretched.

“No,” I breathe out.

“Now let the show begin.” Eugene chuckles and shoves another piece of meat into his mouth, and I snap.

I slam my palm down onto the end of the fork while it’s in his mouth, shoving it deep into his throat. His eyes bulge, and he chokes.

Without a moment of hesitation, I grab my plate and hurl it across the table. The sound of shattering ceramic barely registers before I bolt, and I don’t think. I move.

I vault over the table and land hard against the wooden platform. Someone shouts. A dreg moves with a crackling taser. I throw myself over Benji and shield his body with mine. The taser slams into my ribs, and pain blinds me. My body seizes.

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