We get up to the door, the hallway completely empty. We don’t bother knocking, we just burst in.
Augustine gets up fast. “What’s the meaning of this? You can’t just barge in here...” He trails off, eyes bugging out when he sees Hunter.
I smile, a sick, sadistic wide one. I whistle a tune, walking toward his desk and skirting it to stand right in front of him. “You’re a problem, Director. One we can't afford to have anymore.”
He splutters, face turning red. I slide my hand under my shirt, pulling out the huge knife. He stiffens, holding his breath. “You dare come in here and threaten me? You will all be sent to the medical wing!”
I start laughing, and once I start, I can’t stop. I walk slowly around him, standing behind him. I run my finger down his spine, then reach around, placing the sharp blade at his throat. “I dare you to say one more word...”
He straightens up. “I will call the Solomons—and the police! Unhand me!”
“Tsk, tsk Director Dumbass. That was one word too many.”
Synn and Razor walk over, each taking one of his arms to hold him still.
I don’t want to do this behind him, so I come around to face him again. “I want you to look me in the eye, asshole!” My blade comes up again, and Synn yanks his head back with his other hand.
Augustine’s gaze skitters everywhere but on me. His eyes are frantic, silently begging for help from everyone in the room. It's laughable—as if I'd let him continue to breathe!
I don’t drag it out. I slide the blade across his throat, using all my body weight to lean into the cut. I filet him from ear-to-ear, severing his carotid. Blood spurts out like a fountain, and I jump back to avoid the splash. It keeps spurting, and the river of red around him grows.
“Look at me!” I order, holding his terror-filled eyes as he bleeds out. He chokes, unable to get a breath. His limbs weaken, and the guys let go of his arms. He crumbles to the floor, and I lean down, wanting to see his eyes glaze over in death. Within seconds, he stops breathing, and his head lolls to the side.
“Goodbye, motherfucker,” I mutter, turning to face everyone. “Mission fucking accomplished.”
Purge groans, palming his crotch. “That made my dick hard, Iskra.”
“Same, man,” Razor shifts himself in his pants.
Frost pipes up. “Get everything. Move fast!”
“What about the computer?” Purge asks.
“Everything!” Synn bellows.
We rush to grab the shit on his desk. The drawers are unlocked quickly, and we pull out file after file, piling them onto the desk, putting the pile of papers on top.
“Check for secret compartments,” Frost reminds us.
I rifle through each empty drawer, pressing and pulling. I hit success, peering into the false bottom of the drawer. There’s a thick file in this one. I pull it out, a picture sliding out of the side. I grab it to put it back and freeze in place. It's... me. As a child.
This is before the Solomons. What the fuck? The people in the background are blurred. I can’t make out faces. All I can tell is it appears to be a man and a woman, with another figure standing off to the side.
Out of nowhere, I’m sucker punched by a memory.
Phoenyxx Age 5
It's a pretty spring day. The birdies are singing; the smell of flowers fills my nose. Laughing, I run in circles around the garden in the front of the house.
I'm playing Duck, Duck, Goose with my imaginary friends. I'm picked to chase, of course. I let out a stream of giggles as I dart around, going from tree-to-tree.
I hear a female voice filled with laughter, calling out, “Ah, Carina!”
What the fuck was that? Was that my... Oh God. The timing of this!
Synn comes over to check on me. “Breathe, Pazessca. Put it back, we’ll figure everything out, okay?”
I look at him, uncertainty all over my face. “I just had a memory from childhood. I don’t know where I was, but I was happy...”
