Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
“You sound certain.”
“I read up on Centers during my flight to Moscow. About a quarter of the victims of a brainwipe, the ones who were the most functional, ended up being put into menial positions. Jobs that no one else in Psy society wanted.”
That thrumming rage in Theo, it was back, and it was a hum against his skin.
“The others died.” Flat words. “Slowly, and in a way that their deaths could be listed as natural, but the truth is that they died of medical neglect. While a few were kept around to show us what would happen to us if we stepped out of line, the majority were left to rot.”
Yakov’s claws thrust out of his fingertips, his bear in a rampaging kind of mood. It took everything to keep the ursine part of his nature under control. “You think that happened here?”
“I don’t know, but I know there were a number of very damaged people in this place. Why would the staff spend time and money caring for them if they thought they could erase them from the equation and pocket the entire funding for the Center? After all, the families of the victims were never going to check up on them.” Cold words, but her eyes were pure black now.
Yakov forced his claws back in with sheer effort of will—because one of them had to be rational, and he had a feeling his pchelka was in no mood for that. The impending explosion he sensed in her? It was heading ever closer to the surface.
“We check the interior first, then the grounds,” he said. “Lack of the scent of decomposition isn’t a surprise given that it could’ve been over three years since any bodies were buried.” Hands on his hips, he looked out at the green. “And the dead have waited a long time. I don’t think they’ll begrudge us another day.”
Theo nodded . . . and then she walked into the past, into the world of ghosts who hated the blood in her veins. She almost expected to feel a shove against her when she crossed the threshold of the building, but all she sensed was the musty scent of a closed-up building . . . and those veins of agony and fear.
The walls pulsed with it.
The enormity of it threatened to crush her, but more than answers for herself now, she wanted justice. For all those who hadn’t made it out. All those who might lie buried on the grounds.
Her anger felt old now, old and strong, and hot enough to burn down this entire monument to her grandfather’s evil.
This time, she and Yakov did a methodical search, deciding to start on the top floor and work their way down. “Being at the top means it would’ve been the hardest to clear,” Yakov said after they reached the third floor. “Everything would’ve had to be brought down via the stairs or the elevator. People get tired of repetitive work; they make mistakes.”
Theo took in the scuff marks on the walls, the dents in the doorways, the areas where things had literally been ripped off the walls. “Agreed.” She touched her fingers to a spot where the paintwork was badly scraped and found herself releasing a withheld breath when no screams reverberated inside her skull. “Especially since this appears to have been a rush job.”
“Look everywhere,” Yakov said. “Lift mattresses if they’re still on the frames. Tear open those mattresses. Screw open any air vents, and look behind all electrical outlets.” Putting down the daypack he’d grabbed from the car before coming inside, he removed a slim packet of tools and passed them to her. “That should get you into most things.”
Included in the set was a scalpel.
Cheeks going ice-cold, she closed the kit and went to move away, but Yakov stopped her. “Hey.” A big and warm hand cupping her icy cheek, bear eyes looking into hers. “You’re not alone, pchelka. Don’t you forget that.”
Theo found herself clenching her hand in his T-shirt, the warmth of him a welcome furnace. “I want to raze this place to the ground,” she admitted. “The violence in me, it wants vengeance.”
Those primal eyes flashed. “Later. Today, we take apart the monster’s lair.”
Her blood heated, and this time, it wasn’t with rage. “Let’s tear this hellhole apart.”
“That’s my pchelka.”
Theo stayed true to her word as she tackled one end of the first room, Yakov the other. She didn’t intend to leave a single corner unexamined. If there was anything to find here, she would find it.
It was only when she flipped open the toolkit to remove a screwdriver that the nightmares tried to crawl back in, carried on the gleam of the scalpel. She could feel the icy purity of the blade as it sliced across her palm, the scarlet so wet, the pain a dazzling shock of brightness.