Untouched (Denazen #1.5)(14)

As I observed from my shadowy perch above, I could see the subtle twitch of her thumb as it tapped against her wrist. Drumming to the beat of a song in her head.

Samsen sighed. “Where’s 98? He should be here by now, don’t you think?”

The younger agent, Rob, snarled, “No clue. But it’s his loss.” He grabbed Dez’s shoulder and hauled her forward toward Samsen.

Samsen reached across and ran a finger over her cheek, and I had to bite down to keep from screaming out. I would rip his hands off for touching her. “Did 98 leave you here to rot, beautiful?”

Dez didn’t cringe or try to move away. She stood tall, keeping her eyes trained on his chest. If she could have, she would have met his gaze head-on. In any other situation, I would have been proud. Dez was one of the strongest people I’d encountered, but this time it was bad. Samsen would see her as a thing to be broken. A challenge.



And he lived for a challenge.

“I suppose you’re waiting for me to try and control you,” he said, circling her. “No doubt 98 told you all about me.”

Her voice was like acid. “That you’re a psycho who gets off on playing puppet master? Yeah, I think I heard that somewhere.”

He tilted his head and cracked his neck. The sound sent ripples of sickness rolling through my gut. He used to do that all the time. I hated it. “Keeping those big browns turned away at all costs wouldn’t do you any good if I really wanted to play puppet master.” He stopped walking and spread his arms. “And I always get what I want. Trust me... And what I want is a little payback.”





9


“Payback? For what? Shouldn’t you be carting me off to Daddy right about now?”

“This isn’t about your daddy—or what Denazen wants. Never was. I owe 98 a little sumthin’ sumthin’. A tit for tat, shall we say.” He sighed. “So to put your mind at ease, little lady, I’m not interested in controlling you. That’s not how this is going to work.”

“I think you should shove that tit and tat right up your ass,” Dez spat. “Kale is going to destroy you.”

He laughed again. “I can see why 98 is so taken with you. You’re a fiery one, aren’t you?”

“That would be awesome, right?” Shoulders squared, she snickered. “If my ability had something to do with actual fire? I could light you up like burned toast…”

Samsen clasped his hands and shimmied. “Delightful!” He turned to the other agents. “Isn’t she delightful?”

Dez glanced toward the door, then to the younger agent standing to her left. Her thumb stopped tapping. “So no control. Then, what?”



“I’m not interested in controlling you because 98 is more fun.” Samsen turned his head and glanced around the room. “And we both know he’s here now. Somewhere. He wouldn’t leave you behind.”

A small part of me—the child who remembered the feeling of complete helplessness that came from time spent with Samsen—wanted to stay hidden. To tuck myself away in the shadows and wait for this all to pass. The rest itched to face him. The dark me—the part Denazen had turned into a monster—wanted the same thing he claimed he did.

Revenge.

“Not going to come out and play?” Samsen waved a hand in the air, then turned to Dez. “So let’s pass the time and get to know each other, shall we? I know your mommy raised the pup, but he and I spent a lot of time together. I guess you could say I was like a father figure to him.”

“You like to hear yourself talk, don’t you?” Dez said. She was between him and Rob, who was inching closer.

“I do have a fabulous voice,” Samsen cooed. “But anyway—I’m very curious about something. How well do you know our little assassin friend?”

Dez snorted and tilted her head up. I could see she was rolling her eyes. “Oh, please! I can’t believe you’re stooping to this. Lame much?”

“I know, I know. This is a bit cliché, but really, I don’t believe you truly know your man.” Samsen glanced around the room—he was searching for me—and smiled. “There was this one time he and I went to Jersey during Christmas. Have you seen the work that boy can do with his hands?”

He was baiting me. Trying to draw me out on his terms.

“Then there was this other time,” Samsen said, circling Dez. “We drove out to Long Island where some rich oil baron wanted his wife to disappear.” He chuckled. “I thought it’d be amusing to make 98 explain to this woman—who was an absolute bitch, by the way—exactly what was going to happen when he touched her. Of course, I had him embellish a little. Ya gotta have the buildup, ya know?”



Dez shook her head and took a step back. “You’re a sicko…”

He kept going as though she hadn’t spoken. “You should have seen him, Dezzy-girl. He was brilliant. Delivered his lines with pure perfection. Dragged it out for over two hours. I thought she was going to piss herself by the time he was done.”

Dez didn’t respond. She was looking around the room. Searching for an opening.

Samsen didn’t notice. He stopped walking again and looked up toward the grate. He knew where I was, and his patience was gone. “No? Not enough? Well, what about the time in Southern Cali? I’m sure she’d love to hear how you—”