Page 97 of Rattle the Cage

I felt the wind escape her lungs as her escape attempt was thwarted.

Placing the pigeon in a chair, I pressed my hands into her shoulders and laughed. “Better to sit still, bird.”

With everyone inside, I closed the door behind Tess as she walked into our torture chamber.

“Where the fuck is Xander?” The Pigeon barked at us, her face turning red as frustration washed over her.

I liked the panic. It wasn’t as pretty as Tess’s but it was fun to watch anyone squirm in fear. And I had a feeling The Oracle’s pigeons were meant to be more composed.

There was nothing I loved more than breaking someone.

My body craved a Fright Night, a release.

Maybe if this messenger keeps squealing, I’ll get a bloodletting.

Despite her initial resistance, the pigeon rolled her shoulders back and calmed her face.

No one answered her question. Instead, Nash turned toward the door where a dimmer switch sat. She flicked it all the way on, frosting the glass that lined the entrance of the room.

I flinched, shocked to see that our view stayed clear — still able to see the hallway.

“Can they still see us?” I felt my chest tighten, not wanting anyone to see what we would do in here.

Nash shook her head. “Nah, it’s a kink thing. We can see out but no one can see in.”

Cyrus broke her silence. “We’ll see if anyone is coming.”

Then the attention turned back to our caged bird. Sitting still on the metal chair at the center of the room, the pigeon stared up at us.

Crossing the room, Cyrus grabbed her brown robes and lifted her chin. “We want answers. And we’re willing to do whatever it takes to get them. Isn’t that right, Ragdoll?”

Tess swallowed hard, her eyes peeled on the robed woman at the center of the room. All she could manage was a feeble nod.

I fucking love her like that.

Such a strong woman, so self-assured. But when she was scared, her nerves took over… All I wanted to do was grab her and do as I pleased with her. And I knew she would let me.

The pigeon gnashed her teeth before nodding. “What do you want?”

Laughing, I jumped up with excitement. “The bird’s already squawking!”

Nash hissed, her gaze stern. “The last shipment to Feverpoint. Who were those men?”

Even in her attempt to hide her thoughts, I could see the pigeon piecing us together. We were the Freaks that haunted the amusement park. Stories had spread about us through Valemont. And now I knew that they’d spread through The Oracle.

Good. Let them know what we do in the dark.

Shaking her head, the pigeon looked to Nash. “Men who needed punishments.”

Nash kicked the leg of the chair, letting it wobble. “No shit, Sherlock. The man with the stubble. Black hair. He was a dick. He had this bag on him.” Reaching into her pocket, Nash tossed the plastic baggy into the pigeon’s lap.

We’d taken the DMT out, tested it with the kits at our warehouse.

The pigeon nodded, recognizing the bag. “Yes. Jeremy Zoric. A podcaster.”

She was holding out on us. Chuckling, I stepped closer. “Come on, birdie. We all hate male podcasters but what did the fucker do?”

Even my sweet Tess knew what I was asking.