Chapter Thirteen

I can't begin to describe how I felt when seeing the man who had been responsible for the torture and abuse I had endured in such a state of vulnerability. Ultimate revenge was at my fingertips, but I was frozen. I could not move. I could not speak. Shock perhaps is a good word, but it was such a small word compared to the vast varietal onslaught plaguing my soul.

"There is a compound we keep enemies of the pack, it is secure enough to hold him there," Stefan's voice broke through the silence of our group.

"Tommy, Dean, take him there for questioning," Carlos ordered.

I couldn't speak until Madigan's body was dragged out of sight. I couldn't move.

"I'll question him," Jason offered.

"No," I growled. "I will,"

"Jez, don't do that to yourself," Jason argued.

"That thing is the reason for the darkness in your eyes child, don't let him deepen your scars just to seek such a na?ve conquest as closure." Carlos said. It was one of the longest speech I had ever heard from him.

"I have to agree with them," Stefan began cautiously. "I don't see how this will help you, only how it could hurt you."

"What do you know about Jerry Madigan?" I asked calmly. I thought maybe if I was cool and collected they couldn't argue with my fitness for interrogations.

"We know he is responsible for the scars you bare," Carlos answered, "And that is enough for me not to let you speak to him."

"I am the only one that can crack that sadistic bastard," I argued. "And those mothers want their babies back, and I for one do not want to let another shifter grow up with humans not knowing what will happen and condemned to a life living as an outcast by their own kind and by human kind."

"Let someone else break him, you don't need to do this," Stefan said pulling me into his arms.

"I do need this," I whispered.

"No, and that's the last I will hear of it," Stefan commanded.

I shoved him away from me and walked back to the house. No one followed me, and no one asked me where I was going. I was just fine with it. I made it back to the house just fine and found my way to Stefan's room without even trying. Somehow, I subconsciously remembered or I sniffed it out without even thinking about it. Either way, I was headed straight for the shower. Despite what the boys said, I had worked up a sweat, but it wasn't from combat, just my roller coaster emotions of the day.

When I got out of the shower, two wolves I didn't know were standing guard by the bedrooms double doors and Stefan waited on the bed. He looked nervous.

"What is with the guards?" I asked.

"They're for my peace of mind." He evaded.

"To keep me from going to the compound while Madigan is questioned." I returned and went to my bag to dress.

"I don't want you anywhere near that man," Stefan replied.

I threw modesty out the window and began dressing in my signature assassin chic. Tight black pants I had modified pockets and straps covered my legs. A black shirt with large armholes that exposed my shoulders and the sides of my black sports bra and I finished the look off with a pair of black boots fit for combat.

"This is part of my job, if you don't want me to question him, fine I can accept that, but I won't stand idly by and wait while my team does my dirty work." I answered.

Stefan sighed. I knew I had won.

"Fine, just," Stefan started, and then looked down. "I'll take you there myself,"

When we arrived at the compound, they were just waking Madigan up. Silent as a stone, not even a curse or a grunt to start off. They had him surrounded with wolves and he had the look of a man perfectly willing to die before he would talk. They beat him some but none did anything close to what Madigan was capable of.

"Dean," I called him out of his trance.

"Yeah, darlin'" Dean answered.

"Go get my bag from the pack house, you know which one."

Dean didn't question, he knew better when it came to this. I think he knew as well as I did, that I was the only one who could break him too.

He came back a few minutes later with it slung over his shoulder. The large black duffle didn't hold clothes, it was my gear. And one lone file, with notes, papers, pictures, so thick I had binder clips and rubber bands holding it together.

"Tommy, do you have any earpieces on you?" I asked.

"Of course," he replied and began unpacking tech from his own bag of goodies. I didn't offer any to the pack wolves. This was my business now.

I looked at Jason pointedly. With one look I conveyed my intentions. I would do what I had to, and he would help me as he had with others before. Carlos saw the exchange and he looked sad for me for a moment, but it passed with a look of acceptance and adaptation to the situation at hand.

"Get Stefan out of there," I said quietly as I began preparing what I would need. As I went through the motions I retreated into a mental armor constructed to help me endure. I had been doing it for years, but then again this was different, I had never "interrogated" someone I had history with. I had only ever done this with strangers, and I didn't have any information on them. This one, I knew everything. I only hoped I could break him without having to hurt him.

I wanted him to suffer, and that's why I didn't want to hurt him myself, because that would make me like him. I was not a monster, but he was. He had something I needed, and I would do anything I had to, with a few exceptions, to get it. I would prefer to just kill him. Exacting revenge should be swift and merciful. It should not be about making the person suffer as you have, only about insuring that they could never hurt anyone else. If your motivation for vengeance is selfish, then the act is more hurtful to you. Obsessing over another's misery, only will bring you misery, therefore giving your enemy power over you.

He had no more power over me. I am in control. What I was going to do could not be about vengeance. This was business.

Stefan left the compound in a haze of rage and I knew that rage was because of how much he cared for his pack and me. That weakness made it personal, and there is no place for that in an interrogation with a sadistic bastard like Madigan.

With a deep breath I centered myself and entered the room alone, file at my side. I calmly slid the table from the wall in between us, and gracefully sat down in a chair across from Madigan. I didn't look at him yet. Systematically I placed the folder in front of me and went through the process of opening it. I drew it out, taking off each rubber band, then separating each section that was clipped together, and a stack of pictures.

I silently leafed through the file folders in front of me. The only sounds in the basement were the steady beats of Madigan's heart. I pulled photo after photo of Madigan from the last four years, from every traffic camera, ATM, and from every private detective I had watching him. How I didn't know he was attacking my pack was beyond me. I had been just steps behind him for five years.

Jerry Madigan was exiled from his home in St. Petersburg. His family disowned him on the grounds of his vile and inappropriate preferences in the bedroom, as far as the letters his mother had written said. I had photocopies. His real name was Vicktor Brignoff, as far as his birth certificate said. I had a copy of the original, and a copy of his fake one. I also had pictures of each of his victims. I used to have them hung up on the ceiling above my bed, but then I made copies and put the copies up on the ceiling. I always wanted to see the faces of those that deserved justice. It wasn't a healthy practice but it kept me focused. One of three things was going to happen.

One. I got my bluff in on Madigan and he told me what I needed to know. We go get them, neutralize the threat and leave.

Two. Stefan found out I was down here questioning Madigan and came charging in here undermining my authority and ruining my bluff.

Three. I don't get in my bluff and have to torture him. Secretly, in the dark corners of my soul I was hoping for option three, even though I knew it was wrong.

I spread the photos out in front of him and he wasn't fazed by them which I anticipated. I leaned against the table and crossed my arms, a relatively safe distance from him if he decided to spontaneously lunge. He was handcuffed to a chair bolted to the floor so it was unlikely but still…I was cautious.

"Tell me what I want to know." I commanded keeping a stern, but casual tone. I was going for the no nonsense, I don't take bullshit stance. I hoped it would work and save me time.

"Are these photos all you got?" he said condescendingly, gazing at the multiple photos of him.

"Do you want to see more?" I asked walking back and picking up the file and laying down photos of the young girls.

His scent began to change from relaxed to something else, arousal. I wanted to gag. Photos of his victims, beaten, battered, and some were dead. I had one picture to go on top of every photo save one.

"You missed one girl. Though I'm surprised you tracked down this many of my…conquests." He sneered.

"No, I didn't miss one Madigan." I stated.

"Yes, you did, you missed the one that got away," his scent got stronger and bile rose in my throat.

"Jezebel," I stated, proud of myself from keeping my voice calm.

"Yes, where is her picture?" he was leaning over looking for it.

"You are going to be my payday if you don't tell me what I need to know." I stated moving into the light so he could see my face.

He laughed like a delighted lunatic.

"Oh my little Jezzywolf this is rich!" he cackled with jovial happiness. "Are you exacting your revenge upon me?"

"If I wanted revenge I would have killed you already, I would rather have the reward money I could get for you." I said casually checking my nail polish. "It's my employers that want information, so I'm here to propose a deal,"

I looked down at him and his features darkened as the comment about reward money sunk in. He swallowed nervously, but the movement in his muscles was oh so slight that you had to be looking for it to notice, his smile and bright eyes never quite faltered but I saw the movement and it was enough to tell me I had struck a nerve.

"Here is my proposal, you tell me what I need to know and I kill you quickly, if you don't tell me soon, I will torture you all night long and into tomorrow afternoon, upon which I will call your mommy and daddy and tell them where to pick you up in St.Petersburg in four days." I said nonchalantly leafing through his file.

"You gotta deal," he sneered, a sickening grin spreading his cheeks. "Let's see what kind of nerve you got, baby." He spat out.

I didn't say a word as I fought to keep my face blank. I knew that this was a power struggle to him, if I broke and freaked out he would win. I needed to be neutral, indifferent, and I remained so. I stepped out of the room to retrieve my "fun" bag. I pulled out a length of cloth and duct tape from a cheerful looking pink hello kitty bag. I kept thinking to myself, who keeps a torturing kit in a hello kitty bag? I do, because it gave the whole, sociopath, creepy allusion to the victim that I secretly enjoyed my work…which wasn't far off from the truth.

"Torturers who cover their victim's mouth are usually considered weak because it is a sign that they can't stand the victim screaming." I said, my voice dangerous and empty sounding. "I don't think I'm going to use it this time, I want to hear you scream, in fact, I want the entire house to hear you beg for mercy."

"What makes you think I'm going to___" I cut him off with a fist to his cheek. I hit him hard enough to bust his lip and get my point across, but nowhere near as hard as I could I wanted him alive.

"You speak when I give you permission and the only words I want to hear is an address." I commanded coldly. "You will do as I say," I quoted and smoothed the features of my face and walked over and opened the door. For a moment I could see Jason and he gave me a reassuring look. I nodded and wheeled in a cart that had my knives, a welder's torch, a bowl of icy water, and epi-pens. I didn't need anything else for now. "Did you know there are different types of pain?" I asked gazing down at the tools in front of me. "Blunt force, lacerations, burns." A small smile began to spread across my cheeks.

The smile on his face was still strategically placed but a shred of insecurity let me know that he was starting to believe me when I said I would cause him pain.

"Where are the missing pups of my pack?" I asked.

Silence. Madigan's features changed from the grinning sneer to a serious, sociopathic glare. I felt my hands ball up into fists and before I could get control I lashed out. His face connected with my fist and a loud smack echoed through the room. I felt skin

give way and warm sticky liquid coated my knuckles.

"Where are they?" I asked calmly.

"Dead." He spat out flecks of blood when he spoke.

"Liar," I growled as I punched his gut. He coughed and more blood spittle ran down his chin. His eye and cheek were starting to swell and his cheek had a gash across it.

"Where are they?" I whispered in his ear as I gripped him by the hair.

"I told you," He whispered back.

"Let's try something different." I said cheerily walking over to the cart. I picked up my two smallest knives. "Now, hold still, or I may cut something you don't want cut." I smiled innocently at him.

He kept his face blank as I tore his shirt away from his torso. I pressed the edge of my knife to the top of his chest.

"You can stop all of this at any time," I told him as I started making my cut from his neck to his navel. He hissed but didn't scream like I knew he wanted to. I didn't stop making cuts for a while, I moved from his navel to his shoulders, to his hands, then his legs.

"I think I could be a painter, I mean if I can carve into you this well, it should be easy painting a landscape." I chatted easily. His breathing was becoming shallow. I worked slow and drew out the pain. He gritted his teeth in a grimace as he opened up his mouth and let out a wail.

"Stop!" he yelled begging for my mercy. Something in me really snapped.

"Did you ever stop when I asked you to?" I growled.

Something in his eyes began to change. He started to get scared.

"Let's switch to burns, shall we." I said readopting my calm exterior. I picked up the torch with steady hands that threatened to shake with anticipation.

I picked up the blowtorch. I had tortured for information before, and I always got my answers. I never had second thoughts about it…until now. For some reason I wanted to hesitate. I choked down my insecurities and flipped the switch.

"I can take pain," he groaned out. One eye watched my torch with fear that was coming off of him in waves. The smell wafted into my nostrils teasing my wolf like a sadistic aphrodisiac.

"Good," My wolf whispered through my lips. I jammed an epi-pen into his leg. "That is so you don't pass out on me."

I lowered the torch to his legs and finally he began howling in pain. He wailed and cried as I cauterized each and every cut on his body. I felt numb inside as I worked. Numbness was probably safer than the eagerness and anger that I had to keep from bubbling over the cold indifferent exterior I had worked to keep from boiling over.

"STOP THIS PLEASE!!" Madigan began to beg. "I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!"

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" I growled sternly.

"Please!" he pleaded, breathing heavily. "Macie, she knows where they are, my daughter is in charge of that. I was in charge of the distraction."

I froze in my mind but my wolf took over and grabbed him by the throat and squeezed.

"WHERE IS SHE?!" we growled, throwing every ounce of venom we had been holding back for years.

"You are going to kill her aren't you!?" he questioned.

"I want my people back," I eluded.

"She is my daughter!" he snarled, not unlike a wolf he lunged against his restraints as if he would tear me to shreds.

"Tell me where she is." I commanded as I put the torch to his cheek.

He jerked his face away on reflex. "I just got her back, please, I can't."

"You won't, you are quite capable," I said with my tone taking on a mockingly light condescending tone.

He glared at me defiantly. This was getting me nowhere.

I walked out of the room and into the hallway.

"Jason," I greeted soberly.

"You don't have to keep this up. Anyone can see that he isn't going to budge." He told me, trying to make me feel better about it, but I started this. If I didn't follow through, there would be even more problems trying to get information later. He would be too confident.

"Yes, I do." I said emptily.

"Ok," he replied.

"Good, because I am about to do something that will get my information and make me feel better." I commented before making my way back into the room. I locked my conscience up in a tiny locked box in my soul. I pulled away from my heart and functioned objectively and robotically. I couldn't afford to have my feelings out in the open any longer.

I had one goal objective now, make him more afraid of me than anything else.

"Oh come on Daddy Madigan," I cooed and straddled him. He groaned in agony as his legs were open sores and fresh burns. "You used to tell me all sorts of things, like how you were going to punish me for being a naughty little slut," I whispered in his ear. "It's my turn now, and you will never forget this lesson,"

I looked him in the eye as I moved my hand down his ruined chest, watching his memory of me play in his mind.

"It's a shame you won't heal like I did," I pouted sarcastically as I undid the fly on his pants.

"Please don't," He begged.

Gotcha.

I grabbed hold of his jewels and squeezed unforgivably. He screamed.

"That's right, keep screaming Daddy," I mocked.

"THE LAKEHOUSE!!" he bellowed, tears were freely streaming down his cheeks from the amount of pain. I let off the pressure and stepped away. "Off of Rainwater Drive, take the old highway 10, then a right on Rainwater, number 2238."

I backed away from him and moved to the door.

"Did you get that?" I asked in my earpiece I had been wearing. I waited to hear Carlos's response, but it didn't come.

"I sure did, Jez." Came Stefan's voice through the line. I had to force myself not to freeze in my tracks. Needless to say, Madigan picked up on it anyway.

"You are in trouble, you're alpha will kill you for such an offense." He chuckled darkly a sick and twisted smile spreading across his lips.

The door opened behind me and there stood my team, with Stefan in front. He was angry, I knew he was, but he didn't look angry at that moment.

"Don't presume you know anything about what I will do." He simply stated to Madigan which shut him up really quick, wiping that smirk off his face.

"Please go to our room while I clean up your mess, wait for me there and I will speak to you when I finish." He said looking at me coldly.

"You are sending me to my room?" I quipped rebelliously.

"Oh, little Jezzywolf is an Alpha Female," Madigan cackled.

"No, I am giving you a way out of this before it gets messy." He looked at me seriously, ignoring Madigan.

He was trying to spare me the kill. If I were of sound mind and body I would have let him do it, but I glared at him, pulled out my knife and before he could grab me I had slit Madigan's throat. He sputtered and choked on his blood and in a few moments had bled out and his heart no longer beat. I watched the red liquid gush from his neck and I couldn't stop looking at the scene in front of me. As much as I had always imagined what Madigan's dead body would look like if I killed him. Now it was displayed in front of me with his blood on my hands, burns covering his skin like some macabre abstract artwork. For the first time since I started I looked at what I had done and I started to laugh.

In that moment I thought about all the ways he had hurt me and I laughed, because I had killed him. I got revenge. I had killed before, in self-defense. This was completely different, he was tied up, beaten, defenseless and I just killed him. I knew I was going to cry soon, because I felt a foreign sting in my nose. I walked out of the basement with my bag of fun in one hand. I didn't look at the rest of them as I made my way up the stairs to Stefan's room.

A cocktail of emotions threatened to hit me. I started to feel guilty, and then I was angry with myself for feeling guilty because he got what was coming to him. I felt guilty because I had sunk so far deep into my nightmare memory. He told me not to do this, he graciously gave me an out, but I had been temperamental. Then I felt angry again for even considering taking the blame for this. I got the information his Enforcers had spent all day trying to get out of him with interrogation. He just didn't have enough experience or research as me. I had planned on sending him to his family and collecting on the substantial bounty for him alive. Now, I was faced with all of the emotions and memories I thought I had under lock and key.

An image of Madigan's bloody body flashed behind my eyes. I had become a monster. I had won, but what exactly did I win? More nightmares. Self-disgust is more like it.

I felt the urge to just throw something. I knew I couldn't do that because the pack would wake up if I lost my cool now. They needed to feel secure. They needed to know that I was going to be strong for them and that was exactly what I was going to do. Stefan needed me to step up and be the Luna to his pack, not just his mate. Stefan was a stern and fair Alpha, but where he lacked was in ruthlessness. I needed to run. As I turned to go out the door I caught my reflection in the mirror. I needed a shower first, I felt dirty after having to touch him. I walked into the bathroom and turned the light on.

The bright white of the room stung my retinas with its harshness. I looked at my reflection and I didn't recognize myself. My eyes were wide; my clothes were outlining my curves in a menacing way that showed how deadly I was. The blood on my knuckles and splatters across my face and arms were just reassurances of how much damage I had done. I quickly stripped off the dark fabric that was so stark against my light skin. My hair was sticking to my scalp from sweat.

I let the water cascade down my body and the heat soothed muscles I didn't even realize were tight. I scrubbed away any trace of Madigan's blood with practiced obsessiveness and before long I emerged from the shower squeaky clean and not as antsy to hit something, but the urge to run was still there. I thought I would have some kind of closure after Madigan was dead, but I didn't feel any different at all really. There was still a void in my soul from the hurt he had done, and the only time I didn't feel that void was when Stefan was with me, distracting me from it. I knew what that void really was and it had nothing to do with the abuse. It was something else entirely.

I wanted to leave, but I wasn't sure when Stefan would be back. He was already mad at me, and he asked me to wait for him specifically. I needed to run… so I left a note telling him where I was going. The only place I remembered how to get to, and wished every single day that I could forget that place…the waterfall. I packed a small bag with my weapons and clothes and shifted in the room. I raced to the door and pushed my body to get to the woods. The cool night air whipped past me so quick it pressed my ears to my scalp. My fur kept me warm, but the chill went down into my lungs with every breath. Before I knew it I was at the same waterfall that I had been shot after my first escape. I escaped a lot.

The waterfall looked just as it did five years ago, and it was just as beautiful physically. Personally, I always would see this place as a sad, ugly place because of the…. When it had happened, I had taken time to grieve, but I had never taken the time to say goodbye to the children I would never have. My wolf howled; a lonely cry of sorrow to the heavens a cry to say goodbye, and to say that we had survived. We were victorious in every sense of the word, but we had felt so much loss and not recognized it as large as it really was for so long, just to win the war. The ends justified the means, I had chanted to myself for so long. Well this was the end of the war and I felt as if I had lost too. I shifted back to my human form and put on my gear from head to toe.

I stretched my muscles a bit; then sniffed the air. I was downwind, so I would be able to smell any wolf around me especially Stefan. His wolf practically put out sonar to mine. If my heart started racing for no visible logical reason, it was because Stefan was around. I needed some time alone to do this.

The waterfall was a constant white noise in the background of the wood's symphony. It was loud but not overpowering unless you were right next to it. I sat down on the edge of the bluff, letting my feet hang over the long drop to the pool below. Anyone that came up would hear the water first, and by the time they could hear the water, I would smell them beforehand. I took a big whiff of the air and was satisfied with my solitude.

For the first time in too long I let myself feel sad about my circumstances without judgment. I felt the first few tears fall and then I pictured what my children would have looked like. I would have had a little boy probably, with dark shaggy hair and a strong chin. His eyes would be bright and kind, until you messed with his beloved teddy bear. Only then would he let you see how mean he could be. The tears began flowing freely as I pictured what memories I could have had.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, looking down at my lap and gripping at my empty womb.

"I would have made sure you were happy." I spoke out loud to the ghost of my child. "Even if I didn't get it right at first," I admitted.

I laid back and looked up at the sky where the stars were going back to sleep for the day and the sky was beginning to light up with the sun.

"I would have showed you how your dad is really a teddy bear underneath the hard exterior, and how he does know what's best for you even when it doesn't quite seem fair. I'd take you out for your first run, and your first hunt."

I sat back up and looked out over the water as it was beginning to get brighter.

"I would have loved you child, no matter what the circumstances might be." I said without reservation and with complete honesty.

I felt closure. I felt better. I felt.

"Jez?"