No Peace for the Damned

nose to nose with Thirteen’s swollen face. Blood from Thirteen’s wounds coated his body and pooled on the ground at his feet. I wouldn’t have even recognized him if not for the weak voice of his consciousness.
    The burn in my stomach ignited. Like electricity on a wire, my body sizzled with power. A sharp current whipped through the room. Thirteen’s eyes slammed shut. His head shot back against the chair holding him. Banks fell to his knees with a clang. His hands clutched the sides of his head. Both men screamed.
    Holy shit!
Instantly, I reined in my power. The burn inside me simmered, anxious to strike out again. And all around me the crimson pulsed. Ready, sure, like some sort of high. So…fulfilling. Right. My blood dream come to life.
    Thirteen’s eyes popped open. He turned his head as best he could against his restraints, looking around the room. He knew I was here. As weak and shredded as he appeared, he was still Thirteen. And he had a plan. I stood back and waited. Ready for his signal.
    Banks was on all fours in front of Thirteen’s chair. He panted, adjusted his leg.
    “He’s getting impatient,” Banks snarled at Thirteen. “Either you tell me what I need to know…or you tell
him
.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the open barn below.
    As if Markus could send a violent burst of energy through the barn like that.
So fucking stupid
.
    Thirteen shifted in his seat. He was in so much pain. I wanted to run across the room and heal him right now.
Just wait one more minute. Let Thirteen do his thing
.
    Thirteen’s mouth opened but no words came out. Finally he managed to whisper, “Why?”
    Banks looked up from where he knelt on the floor and then threw back his head in deep belly-aching laughter.
    “As if I’m going to have a heart-to-heart with
you
!” He barked another laugh.
    But Thirteen wasn’t asking for himself—he was asking for
me
. And whether the piece of shit Frankenstein monster planned on confessing his motives or not, I heard. Money and power. So simple, so petty. A beautiful townhouse full of priceless artwork, cash flow without end, a false promise of supernatural power. Even someone as loyal as Banks could be swayed to the dark side.
    The burn inside me swelled again. I’d enjoy killing Banks for his betrayal. No, not just kill. Mutilate. Tear him apart until he begged for mercy. But my control was solid. Consciously, I elevated the burn within me. Power expanded beneath my skin. I trembled at the feel.
Amazing
. This wasn’t me defending against one of my father’s attacks. This was me using my power how it was
supposed
to be used. As a weapon.
    With pinpoint precision, an intense wave of concentrated energy shot from deep inside me, piercing Banks in the temples. I shuddered in a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
    The big man staggered. His enormous hands clutched the sides of his head as a terrible cry ripped from his throat. I could feel the pain inside him, and it fueled my burn. The more agony I created within him, the more my power gained strength. How could I have ever questioned this violent feeding of my powers? I could feel the blood inside him, coursing and heating up. It pulsed faster and faster, louder and louder, until the crimson of the room pulsed in time with Banks’s anguish.
Delicious
.
    “Urgh!” Banks bellowed. His fists pounded against his head in panic. The clangor of his heavy leg shook the rafters as he scrambled to his feet. He started for the door.
    I was faster.
    Banks slammed into me like a brick wall. With a crash, he rebounded onto the floor. I laughed as he landed hard on his ass.
So fucking pathetic
.
    Slowly, I pulled back my invisible mask. Time he learned what it
really
meant to work with a Kelch.

Banks froze at the sight of me standing in the doorframe. His mouth opened and closed but the crashing thunder drowned out his pitiful mutterings. I sauntered over to where he’d fallen to the floor. His eye widened and I hesitated. There was something in his look I’d never seen before. The rough Network enforcer I knew was gone. In his place was a man overcome not with fear or horror, but complete adoration.
    “I never told about you,” he whispered, his voice articulating the worship in his eyes. “I never told him you were alive. Never even thought about you. I swear it.”
    It was the truth. His thoughts were too raw to lie. Apparently, Shane wasn’t the only one more taken with me than I had