"Where are we going?"
It was 10:30 p.m., and Gianna asked the question quietly as she walked beside Athena, their steps crunching softly on gravel as they passed Spider’s cottage. The night air was cool, heavy with pine and damp earth.
"I thought the captive would be at Spider’s?"
Athena shot her a disbelieving look, slowing just enough to make her point clear. "As much as Spider has no qualms about bloodshed and gory torture, we can’t possibly do that in a man’s living room—or anywhere else in his house—unless there’s so underground basent he forgot to ntion."
She snorted under her breath. "Spider isn’t psychotic. He isn’t that person."
The sa na flashed through both their minds at the sa ti. Connor.
Connor was that person.
Connor—a good friend of Ewan’s, the one who had introduced him to the Vipers gang back in their younger days. Connor, who derived absolute joy from torturing and killing people slowly.
Connor, who bore the singular honor of torturing Fiona senseless, until repentance had been beaten out of her after she was pardoned.
Connor was still that person, Gianna concluded. It didn’t matter that Ewan had told them his friend was currently tucked away in a correctional facility, hidden from the public eye, supposedly getting his act right.
The first ti Gianna had heard that, she had laughed—pure incredulity blinding her to the very idea. Connor was a cold killer. That was that.
But the looks she’d gotten when Connor had bowed his head in sha—those had been... well... corrective.
Still, she held fast to her opinion. And she was curious to see whether her words and predictions had turned out right. According to Athena, Connor would be around for the Christmas season.
"Is that where we’re heading?" Gianna asked, pointing toward another cottage ahead of them.
The door was half open. Light spilled out unevenly, cutting through the darkness. And then a scream tore through the night.
Gianna sighed softly. She didn’t need an answer.
That was the spot.
From the outside, the cottage was beautiful—cozy, almost idyllic. Neat porch. Warm light. From what she knew of Spider’s spaces, it was likely a two-bedroom setup, tastefully done, the kind of place ant for rest and quiet living.
The contrast made her smile sadly. She pitied the house itself, hosting sothing so gory within its walls.
"What are you thinking about?" Athena asked as they reached the porch, her voice low, attentive.
Gianna shrugged, fingers curling slightly into her coat sleeves. "Nothing really."
"Okay then," Athena said simply. "Let’s go in."
When they entered the living room, the first—and only—person they saw was Susan.
A frowning Susan.
"You didn’t tell that Gianna was kidnapped," she said, the words shaped unmistakably like an accusation, her sharp gaze directed straight at her ntor.
Athena exhaled softly. "I didn’t want to disturb you. With your promotion in the agency—and the load of work I know cos with that position—I didn’t want to add another layer. Not when we could handle it here ourselves."
Susan scoffed lightly. "Gianna is family..."
She didn’t finish the sentence before pulling Gianna into a hug. "How are you feeling?"
Gianna nodded with a small smile. "Better. You should listen to your godmother, though."
Susan pouted faintly before pulling away. "I know. But you’re important to . Hearing about it on the news..." She shook her head. "That didn’t sit right. Still—I’m glad you’re okay."
Then she turned to Athena. "You also didn’t inform Aiden. Well... he’s upset."
When Athena licked her lower lip nervously, Susan laughed. "Good luck giving him the sa explanation you gave ."
Athena inhaled. "He was with his family. On a short leave. I couldn’t interrupt it."
She moved past them toward the room where the interrogation was taking place. Gianna and Susan followed.
As Susan had predicted, Aiden was anything but pleased.
"You’re sidelining already, woman?" he said dryly.
Athena tweaked her lips, reaching out to touch his arm gently, fingers brushing skin ant to soothe. "How is your daughter?"
Aiden bristled. "Don’t change the topic."
But a smile tugged at his lips despite himself. "She’s fine. Asked about you."
Gianna rolled her eyes. Athena could ta dragons with ease.
"Oh, really?" Athena said softly. "That’s great. I’m sure you had a good ti with her. And that’s why I didn’t want to interrupt. You needed the rest too."
Her hand kept rubbing his arm, calming—cooling sothing hot and boiling beneath the surface.
Aiden still wasn’t pleased, but he said nothing this ti.
Instead, he pointed.
Gianna followed the direction of his gesture—and froze.
The captive was bloodied, slumped in the far corner of the room. And beside him stood Zane.
Zane, holding a bloodied knife.
At his right foot lay the captive’s thumb.
Athena heard Gianna gasp behind her and knew her friend was taking in the scene fully now.
Gianna had never witnessed anything like this. Athena had made sure of that. But now, there was no choice—no shielding her from the chaos she’d been dragged into.
"Are you sure you want to stay for this, Gianna?" Athena whispered, turning to her. "You can leave. I’ll give you the answers. I only wanted you to see his face. Maybe get so satisfaction."
Gianna’s chuckle ca out nervous, brittle—a far cry from the stoicism worn by the others like armor. Especially Zane, whose eyes were lit with a deathly calm.
This was him in his real elent.
She swallowed, forcing herself to look away from the knife, from the blood slicking his hand. This would take getting used to.
"No," she said, steadying herself. "I’ll stay."
Athena watched her closely. She knew Gianna was uncomfortable. Knew the latter was borrowing courage she didn’t quite have. But she didn’t call her out.
Sooner or later, with the strangeness of what they were facing, Gianna would be involved regardless.
"Are you ready to talk now?"
They turned at the sound of Zane’s voice.
"Who sent you?"
The man wheezed a laugh in response.
Gianna watched as Zane slapped the fellow’s cheek with the flat of the knife. Blood oozed instantly, joining the many similar marks already carved into the captive’s face.
Then Zane drove the blade suddenly into the man’s left thigh.
Gianna’s ears rang as the scream ripped through the room.
Zane struck again—sa spot.
Again. And again.
When he lifted his hand the fourth ti, the man muttered, "Please... wait."
Gianna released a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.
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