Page 66 of Jezebel's Liberation

Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean my head back against the seat. I hate that I’m being forced to go behind Jez’s back, being made to keep secrets. I mean, I get it. I understand why they’re doing this. But I fucking hate it.

“Look at it this way,” Malice says. “This is giving Soul a chance to satisfy the protector in him without making Jez feel like he’s taking over and doesn’t trust her.”

“Does he trust her, though? Because this doesn’t feel like trust.”

Malice sighs. “He trusts her, but he’s never going to stop worrying about her.” I glance at him and see his expression harden. “I’m never going to stop worrying about Demon, either.”

It’s at this moment I realize that this whole thing is as much for Malice as it is for Soul. “He’s lucky to have you,” I say quietly.

Malice grunts. “Sure, okay.”

The rest of the drive is made in silence, and I’m left to my thoughts. As much as I want to demand that he turn around and take me back to the clubhouse because I know the shitstorm that awaits me if I go through with whatever this is, I realize that I need this as much as Soul and Malice.

I’m a hacker, a computer geek, and while I’ve never shied away from getting my hands dirty, violence isn’t common in my world… until now.

If I can be a part of taking out one of these sick fucks, then I have to do it. Not only will it make the world infinitesimallysafer, but it keeps a small amount of darkness from the two people I care most about.

“Where have you been?”

The second I stepped off the elevator, Jez and Demon rushed across the common room to me. Snatching Randy Costa had been far easier than I expected even if it did take six fucking hours, and I’m walking behind Malice and Grim, who are dragging his unconscious body.

“Jez, not now,” Demon says, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from me. “Let him do what he has to do.”

I’m grateful for his interference because if I let myself slow down and reassure her, I’m not sure I’ll be able to do whatever comes next.

Jez lets out a feral growl, but she doesn’t argue. I continue to follow Malice and Grim, and across the room we come to another elevator.

“Where’s this go?” I ask.

“You’ll see,” Malice says, his tone laced with amusement.

Two minutes later, I’m standing in a room that wreaks of suffering and death. Malice and Soul are positioned on either side of me while Grim attaches Randy’s wrists to chains suspended from the ceiling. As soon as the man is secure, Grim exits the room.

“Baptism by fire,” Soul says, turning to face me. “This is what we like to call The Confessional. And he…” He points to the hanging man. “He’s a sinner.”

“See evil, hear evil, become evil, purge evil,” I recite, remembering the club’s motto from when I was asked toprospect. “I take it this is the part where we become evil and purge evil.”

Soul grins before striding to the wall. “You’re a fast learner,” he says, nodding toward the weapons. “Pick your poison.”

My eyes dart from one weapon to the next until they land on something that sends adrenaline bursting through my veins. “The icepick.”

Malice whistles. “Damn, Prospect. I’m impressed.”

Soul hands me the icepick and continues his lesson. “The goal here is to extract information by any means necessary.”

“And after that?” I ask, but I’m certain I already know the answer.

“We purge,” Malice says, and there’s no mistaking the evil excitement in his tone.

“Here’s where you need to understand something,” Soul says. “Prospects are normally only good for cleanup duty. But you’re not just any prospect, are you?”

I’m saved from responding by Randy regaining consciousness and thrashing against the chains.

“Oh, look,” Malice says gleefully. “He finally decided to join the party.”

I clench my fingers around the icepick, my entire being itching to drive it through his fucking heart.

That’s new.

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