Chapter 85

EIGHTY-FIVE

XERO

The bullet lodges into the wall, missing Father by inches. I turn back to Amethyst, expecting her to try again, but she doubles over and laughs.

Just laughs.

Several things are wrong with this scenario. The woman holding the gun has a full head of dark hair, while my little ghost colored the left side of hers green.

Father’s only reaction to her near miss is an indulgent smile. It’s the kind a man makes to a beloved pet. My heart plummets, and all hope that Amethyst is safe shatters like glass.

Father chuckles, the sound cutting like blades through the fragile threads of my sanity. I turn my gaze to Camila, who slumps against the wall in a tank top and a pair of fitted leggings many operatives wear beneath their bullet proof armor. She stares through glassy eyes, oblivious to Dolly and Father.

I don’t know how much time has passed since they hit us with tranquilizer darts, but I can only hope she’s been drugged and not broken.

“Where’s Amethyst?” My voice cracks.

Father’s smile fades. “That girl was a bad influence who kept you from fulfilling your true purpose.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I snarl.

Rage surges through my veins, fighting the effects of the drugs. I jerk forward, trying to break free, but the leather straps around my chest dig into my flesh.

Dolly’s laughter becomes shrill. “Didn’t you tell him?”

“Tell me what?”

“Amethyst had to die,” Father says.

His words land with a blow that knocks all the air from my lungs. I recoil, my chest tightening around my shrinking heart.

“You’re lying,” I say, my mind rejecting the very notion.

“She’s distracting you from your destiny,” Dolly adds.

“What?” I snap, my gaze bouncing from her to Father.

He steps closer, his eyes boring into mine. “After you and your rag-tag gang of defectors kill the Moirai’s management team, you will return everything you stole from me and take your place at my side.”

“You’re deluded,” I rasp.

“You’ll come to terms with your position in life the moment you accept that Amy is dead.”

I shake my head. “You wouldn’t kill someone so important to me without turning it into a spectacle.”

Father points his remote at the wall. “See for yourself.”

The screen lights up with footage of Amethyst lying on a brown leather couch in a white room. Her eyes are open, but she’s dazed, with her arms encased in a grubby straitjacket. Its fastenings at the bottom are undone, revealing her pubic hair and legs encased in compression bandages.

I stiffen, my pulse pounding so hard I can barely hear the audio.

Father appears on screen and positions himself at the edge of the couch. My breath stills as his hands slide up her legs.

My heart thrashes. She told me Father had raped her in the asylum, but seeing it unfold is another level of hell.

His fingers probe her vagina, making her whimper. I can’t tear my eyes from the screen, as if looking away would abandon Amethyst to her fate.

“You sick bastard,” I snarl. “I already know what you did.”

“She was as tight as a virgin,” Father says.

I strain so hard against the leather straps that my wrists bleed. “Monster. I’ll make you die screaming!”

“Tighter than me?” Dolly asks with a pout.

“You are a queen among women,” Father says without conviction. “Amy could never compare.”

On screen, Father extracts a thick rubber ring from inside Amethyst and sets it aside before unzipping his fly and positioning himself between her spread legs.

Anguish grips my chest. I can’t breathe, can’t move as the horror unfolds on video. He violates the woman I love with jerky thrusts, while the camera captures every flicker of pain and fear and resignation across her anguished features.

I want to tell myself this is Dolly, but this is exactly how Amethyst described one of her flashbacks. I watch, helpless and impotent, as Father steals from yet another woman I love.

After an eternity, he climaxes with a shudder, and the video switches to a different scene. It’s of Amethyst lying bound to a metal table. A blond man stands over her, holding a knife. The camera cuts to him making a stabbing motion, then back to Amethyst, whose wound oozes blood.

Adrenaline surges through my veins, bringing with it a rush of panic and denial. This has to be another one of Father’s twisted games.

It can’t be real. I can’t lose her. I won’t lose her. She’s all I have left. My mind clings to this hope, refusing to accept what I’m seeing.

“Bullshit,” I snarl. “This is makeup and special effects.”

Father picks up another syringe from the torture table and plunges its needle into my neck. Its sting barely registers, but a flood of cool liquid sends my heart galloping. My senses sharpen, my breath quickens, and my limbs surge with power.

He strolls to the door and holds it open. “Xero thinks we fake deaths. Show him we mean business.”

Before I can ask what the hell he means, Dolly points her gun at Camila’s chest and fires. Blood splatters across the white wall, and my sister’s body collapses.

“No!” I thrash against my restraints, my scream echoing off the walls.

Camila falls to the floor in a heap, her brown eyes still glassy.

Dolly blows smoke from the barrel of her gun and steps over Camila’s body. She approaches me, her heels clicking over the floor. Satisfaction shining in her eyes, she leans close and grins.

“I’ll kill you,” I scream.

“Can’t wait to be your special reward. I hope you’re a better fuck than Delta.”

“Dolly, time’s running out,” Father says.

Straightening, she turns on her heel and saunters across the room without a backward glance.

White-hot fury courses through my veins, bringing another surge of power. I thrash, ripping off a leather wrist restraint.

Just as Dolly disappears into the hallway, the second one follows with a snap. The door swings shut, leaving me alone with my sister’s lifeless body.

With trembling hands, I unbuckle the leather straps around my chest and ankles, my movements still numb with shock. I break free and crawl into Camila’s expanding pool of blood.

Grief seizes my chest in a punishing grip, robbing my lungs of breath. My vision blurs with unshed tears, leaving me blind to everything except my sister. I fumble at her neck, finding no pulse.

I kneel beside Camila and cradle her head in my lap, my heart shattering into a thousand shards, each one pulsing with raw pain. Every memory of the smiling little girl rises to the forefront of my mind, crushing my chest with despair.

Her kindness, her laughter, her acceptance of a boy rejected by his father and stepfamily—all gone. It was Camila who invited me to stay with Isabel and her mother, tempering my misery with compassion.

When she arrived at the Moirai academy, traumatized from having been molested by John, I swore then to protect her.

And now she’s dead.

How the hell will I explain my failure to Isabel? Or to Jynxson?

Tears stream down my cheeks as her blood pools beneath my legs. Its coppery scent fills my nostrils with the metallic tang of torment.

The air cools, but my anger heats as the walls close in around what’s left of me and my sister. My mind reels with the weight of her death. I can’t comprehend how anyone could harm such a pure soul.

Father ordered a kill on his own daughter just to prove a point. He recognized her, but chose to extinguish his own flesh and blood.

Hate and disgust battle within my psyche. My world narrows to a pinpoint of pure, searing rage. Every nerve screams for vengeance, every muscle trembles with the urge to retaliate.

I failed Camila. I failed Amethyst. I failed every operative who defected from the Morai, believing in the promise of freedom. Retribution burns through the last vestiges of my humanity. My thirst for revenge consumes my soul, leaving only a shell of pure wrath.

“They’ll all die,” I snarl, my voice trembling with the force of my conviction. “I’ll kill every one of them with my bare hands.”

The room spins, but I’m already on my feet. Already moving, already at the door, already planning what I need to do next.

Father wants a monster?

Then a monster will be the last thing he sees before I rip Dolly and him to pieces.