Chapter 17

Kali

Jose's warning rings in the silence one minute, then the next there is complete chaos. I let the Carmichael twins handle the hard part. My little imprint in the history of The Illicit is almost over. After tonight we'll all step forward together. And if not…I'll enjoy making them into the prettiest angels for the little mouse to see.

I never wanted to hurt Taylor, at least not seriously. She started as a means to an end before she crawled under my skin. I never had friends growing up. I never had family, thanks to The Illicit. It wasn't until Walter found me that I found a purpose. Someone who cared even the slightest. Then I met Taylor and I found someone who cared too much. Almost to the point that I didn't know how to handle the sugary sweetness of it. I know I hurt her. I know I caused a domino effect of mega proportions, and she may never forgive me. But I hope at some point down the line, when her daughters are not treated like garbage, that she'll thank me.

Chanda is the only one who truly understands the vision I have, and what it means to be a female among these men. Ever since our first text messages, and our joint successful kill of Rhett Carmichael, I knew she'd be an ally. And once we have things settled here, I'll help her with our dream project. An all-female version of The Illicit. After that I can complete my mission. The mission Walter promised to help me with if I reined myself in and played nice the rest of semester. Cue the gag reflex. I don't know what his hang up on these boys is. I think Chanda, and maybe even Taylor, and I could do a better job, but I digress. My mother's family needs to meet their end.

I searched, and planned to find the elders. Unfortunately, most of them were dead, but a few were just in hiding. It's time for them to feel the fear of being hunted. I've had the practice, and now it's time to pull out the big guns. It seems I have a few cousins on my mother's side that remind me of the snakes their fathers were. And Walter promised he would help. Maybe once I've cleaned them all of their tainted blood, I will finally feel the peace and healing everyone wishes for me. Probably not, but one can dream.

"The car is in, and the first parameter is set," Jose speaks, while Soren and Steffan move into position. I slide up next to Jose to see his screen and what exactly it is he's talking about. On his screen a black car stops on the lower level of the building. About twenty men arrive after and scout the area before an elder man steps from the car.

"And his match is here as well." Jose chuckles when a man wearing a very familiar MC cut steps into the room. Absolute chaos erupts.

"And here comes lucky contestant number two," Jose calls again and points to Steffan, who makes a phone call.

I watch as the same process repeats two more times, where unsuspecting members of The Illicit are brought to a secluded area and met with the people they have crossed. Blood is spilled everywhere, but The Illicit members quickly lose their gusto.

"Roland is ready to backtrack." Jose glances up, his face morphing from glee to a grim reality. "They know. We've lost the element of surprise."

Steffan and Soren share a look, doing their annoying mind reading thing. "What does that mean?"

Soren's cold eyes move to mine. "It means it's time to get our hands bloody."

"Not a problem for me." I smile.

They move in unison toward the staircase, and I follow. There is no way I'm missing the chance to watch some souls bleed out of someone's eyes. It's been a while since my last kill. I'm starting to get hungry. Kind of like my favorite alligator, the only other female I like in this brotherhood of morons.

We make our way down to where the middle of the chaos is erupting. Steffan and Soren jump in, fists flying, or in Soren's case, his knife. I will hand it to them that they can mostly handle themselves. Jose also jumps into the fray, ever the willing pledge. He left Chanda behind to maintain the security.

I find my first victim, and meet him halfway before plunging my favorite, skinny knife into his stomach. The handle is a snake, encrusted with black diamonds, that slide between my fingers for the best grip. Victim after victim meets their maker on my beautiful weapon of death, until my sleeves are heavy and soaked in the enemy's blood. There's splatter across my chest, my neck, and even my hair, but I don't feel it. All I can feel is the satisfaction and hollowness I allow my muscles and my mind to fall in. Once upon a time a therapist called it dissociating, but I call it letting my avenging angel fly.

Every once in a while, I catch sight of the guys, and the way their bodies move majestically through the crowd of their own victims. Together we're making a change. Together the future will be brighter. For once I don't want to strangle them until their faces turn blue and their eyes are bloodshot. It's an improvement.

The first knick takes me by surprise. I barely register the icy tendril of a blade skating across my skin. The high from my kills and the inevitable win on our hands distracting me. All over the room, the men in suits are laying down their weapons and surrendering. The elders of The Illicit are dead, and victory is ours.

The second slide of a blade gets my attention. My hair flies to the side to see my assailant, and everything freezes. Walter.

His third and final blow, I see it coming. Everyone I've ever killed, I've seen their secrets in their eyes, heard the whimpers. I've always wondered what they see when they look into mine. I don't have to guess anymore. Walter's regret, pain, and love for the girl I used to be reflects back at me while his knife plunges into my gut. I cough and blood splatters from my lips. Fuck me, he hit something vital. Something important because my chest feels heavy and my legs are icy. I drop to my knees, my head falling back, when the world spins.

"It's okay." I want to reassure him even now.

And it is. Maybe this is the feeling everyone is talking about. The numbness. There is no more pain. All the voices and the static in my brain stops. It's quiet, and a sense of relief floats through me.

"It's okay."

The man I looked up to, the one who pleaded with me to save my soul and protect my heart looms over me. He does the last thing I ever expected of him. After everything I did to him, pulled and orchestrated. Lois. He still takes my hand. And with my fingertips on the first power of The Illicit, I accept my fate for what it always has been.

The angel of death has found peace in the silence of her enemies.