Devon Monk - Hell Bent

“A few hours.”

“Hours?”

“Yes. Which is why I’ll leave you creatures of the light to your day, and get some sleep while I can.” I strolled down the hall, Eleanor not far behind me. Listened to Zay and Allie and Terric. Talking. Talking about me. I tried to ignore their whispers. Shame wasn’t the same. Was worse than they’d ever seen. On the edge of losing control. Of becoming the monster.

They didn’t know how right they were.

Closed myself in my room. Kicked off my boots, while finishing off the tumbler in deep gulps. Trying to drown the hunger, the need. It helped, but not enough.

Pulled off my coat, my shirt. Sat on the edge of my bed, hands and heart shaking.

I was hungry. Hungry to kill.

Eleanor stood across the room, her hands in her ghostly pockets. I lifted the bottle toward her in a toast. Then drank from it. Trying to burn away my need. Trying to dull my sorrow for Joshua. He was a good man. A decent guy. Husband. Father.

Dead.

We’d lost him. To Collins the Cutter. To that heartless bastard.

When I found Eli—and I would—I was going to make him pay for every cut in Joshua’s flesh. For every moment of life he’d stolen from him.

I tipped the bottle up, drank. And drank.

Eleanor finally drifted over. Sat on the edge of my bed next to me. Pointed at the book that had fallen out of my coat pocket and onto the floor.

“Ah, now. I promised, didn’t I?”

She nodded.

I pushed off the bed. Scooped up the book. Got myself sitting again, with my back against the headboard.

I patted the blankets next to me. “Come on. I’m not going to read it to you.”

She tipped her head, and for just a second, she gave me that hopeful glance. The one women tend to give men they think can be saved.

I blinked, slowly, the alcohol taking some of the hard, hungry edges off the world. And waited for her.

She finally drifted up, sat down next to me, her back against the headboard, knees curled up beneath her. She rested her hand on my shoulder and propped her chin there too so she could look down at the book I held. I opened it.

We had a system, Eleanor and I. I’d drink. Hold up the book with one hand so she could see both pages. She’d tap me on the shoulder, and I’d turn the page. Drink again.

We did this until the bottle was gone.

Because the bottle was always gone before the pages were done.

I’d be lying if I said I was completely sober by lunchtime. But just like the cigarettes that burned down too quickly in my hands, the edge-dulling effect of the bottle I’d drunk was fading fast.

Zay and Allie and Terric had left the inn so the staff could open it up for the lunch and dinner crowd. I decided a cab was my best bet. I didn’t want to deal with the bus or light rail crowded with beating hearts.

The pizza place was over on Mississippi Avenue, a two-story green-on-green stucco building with a clay tile awning stretched over white-framed windows and doors. I strolled in and helped myself to a booth by the window.

Eleanor drifted between wooden tables and patrons, then paused to study the pizzas lined up along the counter behind glass.

I glanced out the window and watched Dessa walk across the street. She’d pulled her hair back in a clip that allowed most of it to fall down around her shoulders, and had put on a gray formfitting dress that showed a kick of orange at each step where the skirt hit her knees. She wasn’t wearing a jacket, or carrying a purse big enough for a handgun.

She was poised, confident, strong. And beautiful.

Eleanor floated back over toward me and put her hand on my shoulder, pointing a finger out the window.

“I see her,” I said.

Dessa stepped into the room and strolled right over to me. She’d probably staked out the place and had watched me walk in.

“Didn’t think you’d come,” she said as she took the bench opposite me.

“Why not?” I asked.

“You don’t seem like the kind of man who likes to be inconvenienced.”

“Who says this is an inconvenience?”

She stopped, studied me. “Do you ever take those sunglasses off?”

“Only when there’s something worth seeing.” I reached up, pulled them off, and gave her a smile.

She blushed just a bit, which was cute. “I see you brought your charm.”

“What did you bring, Dessa?”

“I do have information you want.”

“That’s true,” I said. “Should we pretend to like each other over pizza and a beer?”

“What if I already like you, Shame Flynn?”

My turn to pause. “Naw, you just like what I can do.” I leaned forward a bit. “How I can kill.”

“That’s why I found you,” she said, her gaze holding mine. “That’s not why I’m on a date with you.”

“Mmm,” I said. “Then how about I buy us a beer?”

“Let’s make it two.”

We ordered pizza and a couple pints. Talking took a backseat while we made a dent in our slices. She’d gone for a mix of veggies and meat, while I’d opted for the full-on carnivore. She ate her pizza the right way—with her fingers.

“Dating me, yeah, sure, I can understand the draw,” I said after I’d demolished my lunch. “How could you resist tall, dark, and dangerous?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Tall?”

“Hush. What I don’t understand is why you want to give me any information at all.”

She shrugged and wiped her mouth on a napkin. “My brother was a part of your organization. He was the most honest, caring man I knew. He wouldn’t have gotten involved with the Authority if he didn’t agree with what it stood for.”

“That’s a lot of blind faith you have there.”

“Just faith. I know you people have done illegal things. But from what I can tell, he believed the Authority was dedicated to doing the right thing, even if that meant making some hard choices.”

I nodded. “That was the idea. But like all ideas, once people are added to the mix, there are bound to be problems.”

“Problems like the man who killed my brother.”

I took a drink of my beer. I wasn’t going to give her information on Eli, didn’t want her in the way of whatever he was planning on doing to people. “Did you grow up in the area?”

“My dad was in the army. I grew up everywhere.”

“And when you got out on your own, where did you settled down?”

“San Francisco.”

“What did you do there?”

“Officially?” She smiled. “I was a national account manager for a bioscience division of a tech company.”

“Unofficially?”

She sipped her beer. “I spied on people.”

“CIA? FBI?”

“I wasn’t offered details,” she said. “Just money in exchange for being reliable and discreet.”

“Is that what you’re doing now? Gathering intel?”

“Not for them. I said I was ex-government. I meant that. The only intel I want is who killed my brother.” She held up her hand. “I know. You’re not going to give it to me. But I said I had a few things to tell you, and I’m going to.”

“Why?”

“We started off on the wrong foot,” she said. Her eyes slid away to the window and the people moving about out there, then back to me. “I misjudged you.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I thought you didn’t care about anything. I thought you’d like the deal, the hunt, the payoff.”

“Maybe I do.”

“Maybe. But it’s not what you care about.”

“It’s fascinating how you think you know me and we’ve barely met.”

“You’ve seen me naked.”

“Not quite.”

“You care about Terric, Dash, and Clyde,” she went on. “You care about Zayvion Jones and Allison Beckstrom and Cody Miller.”