Page 66 of From the Shadows

As much as I wouldn’t be here without Christophe, Teague, and their team, this thing with Hibou is personal. I need to be the one to take him out.

“What…?” Hibou follows my gaze, rage flooding him at the realization that he doesn’t have the control he so desperately covets. “What did you do? Who’s there?”

I grab him by the back of the neck, wrench his arm behind his back and twist. My stomach rolls as I feel the shoulder joint pop and separate. He’s far more maneuverable with the pain and guiding him through the maze of hell is easier than I’d thought. The kitchen is sterile, yet cluttered, covered bins labeled with various venomous species line the counter like a deadly buffet just waiting to be served up.

The highchair sits in the corner, empty, and this asshole doesn’t even notice until I have his face pressed to the butcher block counter next to it.

“What happened? Where’s the brat?” He grunts as I lean in, applying pressure to his compromised joint. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… stop. Goddammit, stop…” He trails off into a pitiful whine.

“Power is a wild thing. You think you have it all—grasped at it, reached for it—then hoard it like it’s something to be proud of.” In the sink sits a knife, long and sharp and casually discarded there to be dealt with later. I reach for it, careful of the blade, my movement being tracked by my soon-to-be accomplice. “But power can’t be held absolutely, history has taught us that if it’s taught us nothing else. The evils of power can only be absolved through tilting the scales back to neutral. And if justice is anything, it should be poetic—ironic, if that’s attainable.”

“What the fuck are⁠—”

I steel myself and strike, driving the knife through the hand he’s splayed out on the butcher block and pinning him in place. Blood wells up where the blade pierces his skin and I retch. No hesitation. Zero guilt. Only a modicum of shame. Mostly, I couldn’t care less. As long as the bastard is pinned in place and can’t get free, I’ll take my roiling gut and move right the fuck on.

Hibou screams, and I puke again, this time hitting his shoes. I pull my pocket square free and wipe my mouth because while I feel no shame here in this moment, no one else will ever know. This secret dies with the doctor and his friends.

With one hand pinned and the other useless in its dislocation, I release my hold on him and step away looking around the kitchen. I don’t waste any time turning the knobs on the gas range, nor do I bat an eye as I grab a dishtowel and a set of metal tongs. Distance is key.

“What are you doing? You can’t leave that gas going it’s going to hurt my babies.” Hibou’s protest is more of whine than anything and annoying as fuck.

I force myself to look at him one last time, putting everything I have into not fainting at the sight of his blood. I have to swallow hard to keep myself going. “Ridding the world of a scourge on my family.”

“You got your kid, leave me mine.” He begs for his deadly creatures, pleads for their lives as if they’re worth the same as my daughter’s.

The only thing that matters to me as much as Evie is Jess. Both my girls are safe outside, and I plan to ensure that remains true.

“Fuck you.”

With the tongs, I pry the lid off the bin closest to Hibou, ignore his gasped “No.” He struggles to free his hand as the serpent slithers toward him and the panicked moment is the perfect draw.

My accomplice opens wide and strikes. The snake is bigger than I thought, longer and far fucking scarier when free of its confines. And I do not want it or its friends roaming free. This is not their native habitat, and they do not belong. The masses at Jess’s house will have to be dealt with as well… later. But now, I toss the metal tongs into the microwave above the oven, set the cook time and press Start. The first spark hits as I clear out of the house.

I move fast and when I reach the door, it’s to Hibou’s screams. The whoosh of gas and flame comes next, and I take off, slamming the door behind me.

Outside, I adjust my suit jacket and go straight to my girls.

Chapter 27

Breath Mints

JESS

A pop and boom are the music accompanying Eddie as he stalks down the sidewalk toward me. Empty handed.

I scrabble with the door handle and scramble out of the back of the van, stumbling as my feet hit the ground. The bile-filled boot tumbles from my grasp, and I catch myself, hands and knees scraping on the asphalt.

“Where’s Evie?” I push to my feet, limping toward Eddie as I scan all around for any sign of the precious girl. “Where is she?”

Eddie goes white, then a little bit green as his sure steps stagger to a halt. His throat bobs, and he pushes all the air from his lungs. It’s a physical shoring up of his vulnerabilities before he wraps his arms around me. “Told you to stay in the vehicle, Jess. I need my girls safe.”

“But—”

“You looking for this lovely ladybug?”

I turn in Eddie’s arms—he’s keeping me awfully close—to see Roux, the kid from the Robicheaux estate dancing toward us with Evie in his arms. Her giggle is what gives me the oomph I need to break free of Eddie’s hold on me. Not that I don’t love being surrounded by him, but the need to hold Evie—to check her over to ensure that she’s unharmed—is overwhelming.

She launches herself at me giving hugs and kisses, patting my cheeks, and snuggling in tight. I love this little girl, maybe more than I love her father. Maybe more than anything in the world.