Predatory Game (GhostWalkers, #6)(79)
“She likes that, John. She’s into pain, you can see she’s getting horny. Look at her nipples.” He pulled off the belt and swung it at Patsy. “Lie all you want, bitch, but you’ll tell us in the end. We want names. His friends. Who he works for. Everything.”
The belt left a long welt across Patsy’s breasts and stomach. Her body jerked, but she didn’t scream this time, she just shook her head helplessly, her eyes wild.
“Tell us or your legs will be smashed just like his, bitch.”
Although the men were torturing Patsy, using depraved and brutal methods, Saber wasn’t necessarily getting sexual energy from them. Even the laughter wasn’t genuine. This was business. They would take Patsy apart—her body, her soul, her mind—until they knew everything she knew, and then they would kill her. It was simply business to them.
“Again, Greg, hit her again.” John bent toward Patsy, catching her hair and yanking her head back. “You’ll look good in stripes. Of course, we’ll stop anytime you want to tell us the truth about your brother.”
Patsy’s gaze jumped around the room searching desperately for a way out. Saber was now in position, on the floor directly behind the man called John, who still had Patsy by the hair.
Saber placed the pads of her fingers very gently on his ankle even as her gaze met Patsy’s. I’m going to have to kill him right in front of her. There was anguish in Saber’s voice when she confessed to Jess. There was no choice.
Already Patsy’s gaze had widened, hope pushing through pain and terror as her mind grasped the possibility of rescue. Saber blocked out everything but John’s heartbeat. Finding it. Melding with it. Disrupting it. She didn’t have time for finesse. She had to take him out fast, introducing a massive heart attack.
A solid kick landed in her stomach as Greg attacked, rolling her over, sending her halfway across the room, as John went down, clutching his chest. She kept rolling, aware of Patsy’s desperate screams, of the man coming at her, rage on his face, swinging the belt at her body over and over. She felt the blows landing, but she didn’t flinch, rolling onto her back, gun in her hand, finger squeezing the trigger over and over, watching as holes blossomed in the body, a small circular pattern in the middle of his throat. If nothing else, she was accurate.
And then everything went black and red as violent energy, anger and pain and brutal death came at her, laying greedy hands on her, grabbing her by the throat and shutting down her airway even as ice picks slammed into her skull from every direction. She tasted blood in her mouth, felt it on her face, wiped it from her eyes. She was dead, but Patsy was safe. As long as there wasn’t another enemy close, Jess would come for his sister. The roaring in her head increased and she rolled over, writhing, her body beginning to convulse.
Breathe, Saber. Damn it, you f*cking breathe. Jess’s voice filled her mind, a clear command from a man clearly used to obedience.
It would have been comical if she weren’t struggling for survival. If she could breathe, she’d be doing it. She fought for air, tried coming to her knees, but was driven back to the floor by the pain. She was losing consciousness. Maybe her life.
Jess was there, on the floor beside her, dragging her into his arms, pulling her head back and lifting her stomach. “Take a breath, Saber. One f*cking breath, that’s all I’m asking for.”
The terrible crushing stone on her chest and head eased with Jess’s close proximity, but she couldn’t hear or see properly. There was real pain now, all through her body, her ribs, her back, even her face. Had the belt struck her a dozen times before she got a shot off? How many times had he kicked her? It felt as if she’d been run over by a truck.
Jess pushed her hair back as he laid her on the floor, careful to keep her body from the blood staining Patsy’s ivory carpet. He turned his head quickly to assure himself that Patsy wasn’t in any danger. She was fighting the tape, trying to get out of the chair, her horrified gaze on the blood dripping from Saber’s eyes and mouth.
“What’s wrong with her, Jess?”
“She’ll be all right.” He sent up a silent prayer that it was true. “Give me a minute and I’ll get you loose.” He breathed for Saber, trying to find a way to get air into her bursting lungs.
Saber stirred. Groaned. Her lashes fluttered. She gasped and spat blood. Rolling, she came to her knees, clutching her stomach. “Patsy?” She glanced at Jess’s sister, her vision blurry. Patsy’s color was off, her face pale, sweat beading on her forehead and mingling with the water that had been poured over her.
Jess steadied her. “Can you stand?”
The energy was gone, drawn away from her by Jess’s presence, but the aftermath was there, pounding in her head and strangling her lungs. She fought to take a breath, and then a second. More blood seeped from her nose. She wiped away the tracks on her face, spat again to clear her mouth.
“Saber?” Jess’s hands went to her hips, holding her as she staggered to her feet.
She had to hang on to his shoulder, cling to his chair in order to stay standing. “How many, Patsy?”
“Four. I saw at least four, but I thought there were more.”
“I only got three of them,” Saber said and wiped at her mouth. She’d never been so shaky. Killing with a gun wasn’t for her, certainly not this close to the victim and not in an enclosed space.