Page 77 of Desecrated Saints
Silence descends like a cloud of fog. Smothering, clinging, unable to be scrubbed from our skin as it sinks deep inside of us. While the three men plead for leniency with their eyes, Eight is set in stone.
“He’s willing to meet and wants to exchange information,” Kade adds.
“Willing?” I repeat.
Hudson knocks back a mouthful of water. “Sabre have offered him the same deal. Protection in exchange for his sworn evidence and full cooperation in bringing Incendia down.”
“And later? Will he be arrested?”
Kade looks uncomfortable. “He will be in a position to argue for a plea deal. Immunity from prosecution if he testifies under oath, kinda thing. Hunter has a government contact who can be trusted when the time comes.”
“A plea deal.”
Eight’s voice is hard as nails and utterly unyielding.
“I’m sorry, love.”
“You’re telling me that the man who murdered my entire family, imprisoned Seven, tortured Lucia, and arranged for Rio to kill me won’t face a single day of punishment for his actions?”
Hudson looks away. “It’s a real possibility.”
I try to put my hand on Eight’s shaking leg, but she stands up, walking away from us all. Hudson pursues her and she yells at him to back off. Her mind is already gone.
“It was all for nothing,” Eight says to herself. “Our lives have been destroyed and it was all for fucking nothing! He’s going to worm his way out of everything.”
“Blackbird—”
“I’m going to kill Hunter and his stupid team.”
Hudson blocks her exit, his hands raised. “Just stop. Let’s talk about this.”
“I don’t want to fucking talk!”
Shoving him hard, Hudson stumbles into a glass end table that promptly smashes. Eight stares at him open-mouthed for a second before running from the room. Nobody seems to know what to say.
“Go get her.” Hudson stands, wincing at his scraped hands. “She’ll listen to you.”
His show of faith is a surprise. Nodding, I take off after Eight. The front door to the apartment is wide open. I chase after her ash-white hair, somewhat doubting my ability to calm her down right now.
“What’s your plan?” I shout down the darkened corridor.
Even at this hour, the hum of late-night activity fills the skyscraper from the lower levels. Eight has stopped in front of the elevator, her hands braced on her knees as she breathes hard.
“Do I need a fucking plan?!”
“Might do, princess.”
“I’m not your goddamn princess! I’m a stone-cold assassin and I’ve been fucked over for the very last time. Are you going to help me kill their sorry asses or not?”
Eight smashes her finger into the elevator’s button, but it’s stuck on another level. She batters it over and over again, growing more frustrated. I draw to a halt by her side and chuckle.
“Alright, assassin. No need to take it out on the elevator.”
“How are you not more mad about this?” she hisses at me. “Lazlo is the reason you’re here. He broke us both and Sabre wants to serve him a brand-new life on a gold fucking platter. Why aren’t you angry?”
Reaching out, I tug Eight closer. She smashes against my chest with a faint gasp. Banding my arms around her slim, sexy body, I revel in the feel of her skin on mine. Her eyes are wide and curious, tempting me further. My lips gaze over the exposed slope of her throat, leaving featherlight kisses.
“Because I don’t believe in justice,” I murmur throatily. “None of us get what we deserve in this life. Otherwise, we would be dead and buried, and Incendia scattered in ashes. Neither has happened.”