Chapter 61

SIXTY-ONE

XERO

Amethyst didn’t sleep that night. Watching Dolly’s performance triggered a nightmare that had her thrashing beneath the sheets. When I held her, she fought back with inhuman strength.

The next day, she opened up about what happened in the asylum. Killing Proctor last night might have loosened something inside her psyche, but Dolly’s fake confession released a flood of anger. Amethyst finally shared the extent of the horrors she suffered in captivity and cried on my chest.

She shook with her need for vengeance, every word she uttered laden with pain. By the end of her story, her green eyes blazed with fury. This was the most alive I’d seen my little ghost since I pulled her out of that bus.

Fire is good, as is anger. It means she’s working through her trauma and will come out triumphant. But I wanted her to rest a little longer before resuming her training.

Now she lies on my chest, completely spent. I run my fingers through her curls, breathing hard through my own impotent rage.

Dolly will die for hurting my Amethyst. Father will suffer an eternity of torment.

Every man who touched my little ghost will die, too. As will every man who watched footage of her or Dolly. No one gets to leer at my Amethyst. Or by extension, her identical twin.

“Are you going to help me train?” she murmurs into my chest.

“I’ll teach you to use firearms. They’re safer and more efficient.”

She shakes her head. “I want to learn hand-to-hand combat.”

I slide a hand over her shoulder, which is covered in one of my shirts and a thick robe. “We need to be careful. Your stitches?—”

“Have been removed. Isabel discharged me from her care. I’m well enough to start training.”

My jaw clenches. I want to hide her away from the world. Keep her so deeply protected she never so much as stubs a toe. After losing her once, I want her permanently at my side.

“Let me capture them. I’ll present you with their bound and beaten bodies.”

She pulls out of my arms and sits up, her eyes still shining with tears. Breathing hard, she wipes her tears with the backs of her hands, then clenches her fists atop the covers.

“I can’t keep hiding behind you. They stole so much from me. I need to face them myself.” She exhales a shuddering breath. “Please, don’t take this away from me, too.”

The words hit like a dagger to the heart, and my breath catches. I force down every protective instinct, not wanting to be another man who causes her harm.

When she looks at me, her eyes aflame with determination, my resolve crumbles. I can’t deny my little ghost. She needs to face them head on, just as I need to face Father. I want her to reclaim her power.

I nod, my throat too tight to form words.

“So, you’ll help me?” she asks.

“Alright,” I finally manage, “But it’s training only. You leave the recapture missions to my operatives.”

“Fine,” she says, and lowers herself back onto my chest.

Hours later, Tyler messages that all personnel sent to the decoy house are disabled or dead. After turning off the traps, Jynxson and his team extract the survivors and dispose of the bodies.

I’ve ordered their teeth removed, just in case they’re concealing communications devices. I’ve also summoned Camila. Both my sisters are about Amethyst’s size, but Isabel probably won’t consent to fighting her patient.

After breakfast, Amethyst and I take the cart to a training facility a mile out from our hideout. Until Delta and his band of supporters are dead, we’re still assuming the catacombs beneath the Parisii Cemetery are compromised.

Camila waits for us in a room surrounded by concrete walls, lit by harsh fluorescent lights. Around her are punching bags, sparring mats, and an array of combat gear mounted on the far wall.

She turns towards us as we enter, her brow creasing with concern. As the first person to have spotted Dolly’s counterfeit confession, I’m not surprised Camila is worried. My sister might be cautious, but if anyone can understand the healing power of vengeance, it’s Camila.

When I think about her alone in our childhood home with John, it makes me want to finish what I started with the urinal. Or at least execute him in the electric chair all over again.

“You’re sure about this?” Camila asks, her gaze flicking toward Amethyst.

My little ghost pulls back her shoulders. “I need the strength to face my sister again.”

Camila looks at her for a beat before she shrugs. “If it gets too much?—”

“It won’t.” Amethyst punches into her palm. “And don’t hold back.”

My sister and I exchange glances. I’ve already had the rest of the night to come to terms with Amethyst’s resolve, but my sister is taken aback. Camila has an idea of what Amethyst endured and likely doesn’t want to add to her trauma.

Raising a hand, I cut off Camila’s attempt to question her further and indicate for her to move behind.

“Alright, then,” my sister says. “This time, you won’t rely on leveraging a man’s weight or strength. You’ll face an evenly matched opponent, testing your skill and endurance.”

Swallowing, Amethyst nods.

“We’ll skip the boxing gloves. Based on the footage we downloaded last night, that’s not Dolly’s style. We’ll focus on hand to hand. When you’ve got a grip on the basics, we’ll escalate to knives.”

My muscles tense as Amethyst marches forward, each step laden with determination. The urge to protect her claws at my insides, threatening to break free. I want to grab her, to pull her close and shield her from every conceivable harm. But restraining her would only stifle her progress, and she needs to reclaim her strength. So, I clasp my hands together and swallow back my frustration.

Camila assumes a fighting stance, which Amethyst mirrors. As the two women circle each other, Camila instructs her on how best to position her feet for balance and mobility.

“Xero?” says a voice in my Bluetooth headset. It’s Jynxson.

“Report.” I step away from the two women.

“Three of the personnel retrieved from the decoy house and its surroundings died en route to the holding cells. Two are critical and one is stable.”

“Any ID on the survivor?” I ask, keeping my gaze on Amethyst and Camila’s training.

“Moirai,” he mutters. “All of them.”

My brows rise. “Do they know they’re working for Delta?”

“The survivor said her client’s name was Fenrick Greer.”

I nod. Father doesn’t just use aliases, he steals identities. That’s the name of the masked man who transported Amethyst out of the asylum in an old school bus. “And their mission?”

“To slaughter the occupants of the house and extract the prisoners. The client was particularly interested in saving Deputy Chief Hunter.”

“Where were they supposed to deposit the prisoners?”

“The coordinates given were for a house ten miles away from Braye Airport. I’ve already sent out operatives to investigate.”

“Be careful,” I reply. “Delta is likely to set a trap.”

“That’s why we’re sending the police to go in to perform a wellness check,” he replies with a snicker. “I’ve told them their missing deputy chief went there with a young girl.”

“Good thinking.” Whoever’s working with the corrupt bastard will go there personally to protect Hunter’s reputation.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh turns my attention back to Amethyst and Camila, who are now fully engaged in a sparring match. Camila swipes out a leg, but Amethyst side steps. This is an improvement from her last training session.

I expect this prowess is muscle memory from the summer camp from hell. Father, that slimy bastard, didn’t even disguise the name of his facility. In Greek mythology, the Moirai is another name for the three fates. Strangely, none of the girls from Three Fates ever made it to the Moirai Academy.

Amethyst ducks Camila’s right hook. She’s getting faster, more adept. She spins on her heel, blocking another punch, and counterattacks with a direct jab that forces Camila to retreat.

“What do you want me to do with the injured personnel?” Jynxson asks.

“Put them in separate holding cells until we’ve handled Delta. The Moirai won’t take on any more assignments from a client who’s caused them mass losses.”

Camila dodges a punch and jogs back. Amethyst lunges forward, falling into Camila’s right hook. The force of the blow sends Amethyst crashing to the ground, her body splayed out like a broken doll.

Shit.