You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 157

A cracked note left his throat. Gravity signed the rest and dragged him to the floor.

The last three people tried to shuffle off and went nowhere. Where could they go when they were bound?

I returned my attention to the man on the floor. "You dined with him. That makes you just as much my enemy."

"Please! I didn't know!" His groans scratched like rusted hinges. "I never wanted you dead. I never wanted you dead. Please!"

"I wouldn't blame you even if you did. Even I wished I'd died."

"Then why are you doing this!? Why are you hunting us? We haven't done anything!"

"Hm." I tilted my chin. "I am just bored, that's all. You see," I let the blade dance across my fingers. "I'm looking for Blade. But here's the tragedy: once I find him, the credits roll, the curtain drops, and the theater empties. So, I'm stalling the end. This is why I'm out here, killing every single person he's had contact with. It might sound crazy," I laughed, "but I actually want you to tell me you don't know where he is. That way, the knives stay busy."

"Oh, please. I have no idea. I have no idea, I swear. Blayne and I only do business on neutral grounds. I've never been to his place, I can't even reach him unless he wants me to. You have to believe me. Please!"

The asshole. I laughed where no one could hear it. It was adorable that he was still being anonymous. What, was he afraid I'd claw my way out of the grave and haunt him?

Voice one: Kill him already! He doesn't know!

Voice two: No. Torture him some more! Make him bleed.

I stared down at the blood between his legs. He was strong, I'd give him that. Lost a lot of blood already and still conscious. Though he looked like he might be passing out any moment.

He must've read the execution paperwork in my eyes because his face went chalk-pale.

"Torturer, please. Don't do this. Don't do—"

I stabbed him in the neck. His body attempted a few last syllables, a couple of broken notes, and then he ran out of words. I've always liked the period.

I watched as his blood relocated from his neck to the floor. For a second, I wondered how it would read on my skin. The stripe it would make across my cheek.

'Do it, Void. Do it!' Voice one urged.

'It'll look good!'

'Smell good!'

Before I could decide, a voice—not in my head—broke through.

"He has a parlor!"

My eyes slid to the last three kneeling, and I locked on the granite-faced man who'd spoken. His lips trembled like he wasn't sure whether to stay open or closed.

"H—Heard it's called Orgy House." His tongue wet a lip that stayed dry. "He—He takes girls there and—and rents them off to men."

Hm. Interesting.

"I—I've only heard of this in the streets. Blade has been very careful and secretive about this 'cause he knows it's highly illegal. He's careful with the people he grants access. E—Even I don't know the location."

So, he was into trafficking. Something in my guts had told me the son of a bitch had been lying in the bar. Shouldn't have ignored that.

"Your information is as good as useless if you don't know where I can find him," I told him, my blade already smiling politely.

"No!" Desperation pitched his voice higher. "I—I do know. I mean, I know someone who does. I promise you, I can bring him to you and make him tell you. You'll find Blade, I promise."

I rolled my head back and kept it hanging.

Blade. Blade. Blade.

Fuck, I was close to finding him already, and I hadn't wanted that.

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