Free Bad Blood by Amity Cross Page A

drove my madness to breaking point. I was already on the edge of insanity and realizing I was enjoying this man squirm? I was a fucking monster and I had no control over what I was going to do next.
    Turning, I moved across to the pack and pulled out a knife. Muffled protests came from behind as I unsheathed the blade and turned it over in my hands.
    It was a hunting knife, ten inches long, two and a half inches wide, and stainless steel with a saw back. Extremely sharp and usually used to gut open an animal the size of a deer. It could easily slice open the skin of a man half the size, exposing his insides and bleed him dry.
    Approaching my victim, his eyes widened and my blood quickened.
    I pressed the point of the knife against the inside of Madden’s wrist and his breathing became short and sharp. Blood welled to the surface as I dragged downwards, slicing open a shallow wound. Deep enough to make him bleed, but not enough that he’d pass out before I was done.
    Once I had a mark that I was satisfied with, I did the same with the other wrist.
    Sick bastard .
    I watched his blood trail down his hands and along his fingers, and watched as it dripped onto the carpet. Madden shifted and swung slightly, tears and sweat beading on his skin.
    I held the knife firm and raised the blade to his neck. He began to fight back, twisting his head out of the way so I fisted my hand into his hair and wrenched him back, holding him still. I nicked his skin with the knife, puncturing another vein. Blood began to well and drip from the wound.
    Madden’s eyes began to droop from the loss of blood, but I wasn’t done with him yet. I dragged the blade across his ribs, slashing open his flesh and he screamed, his voice muffled by the tape.
    How far was I going to go with this? Vaughn had requested suffering. Who was I to judge how much was enough? Wasn’t this enough?
    I carved another line to mirror the one I’d just made.
    He thrashed, his arms trying to grasp me, his extremities slick with blood. I could smell it on the air, all metallic and ripe. I watched Madden suffer and I enjoyed it .
    Monster . Monster . Monster .
    I knelt before him and dragged the knife across his cheek, enraptured as blood swelled to the surface and dripped from the opening in his skin and trailed into his eye. Tears of blood. Fascinating… I blinked hard, dropping the knife.
    Fucking hell, I was getting hard over this? Over the suffering of another human being? I knew I was a monster, but this…this was a new kind of depravity. Was this yet another thing that I was programmed to forget? Or was it the next inevitable step in my evolution?
    I glanced at Madden and the look in his eyes was one of utter defeat. He’d accepted his fate and was asking me to end it.
    Picking up the knife, I held it against his throat.
    Just end it X. You ’ve done what Vaughn wanted you to do. Just end it .
    I closed my eyes and pressed the knife into Madden’s jugular.
    I couldn’t separate myself from it. I wasn’t cold anymore.
    Madden’s gaze met mine. The best part was when their life slipped away. You could see it in their eyes, the exact moment their heart stopped beating and when their soul left their flesh. The exact moment they became a shell.
    The eyes were the windows to the soul. It was the best bit.
    Madden blinked.
    Then I cut.

 
    Nine
    Mercy

 
 
    X told me he could be gone a few days.
    His reasoning was lax, but I assumed it had to do with his target’s movements. Like a game of chess, he had to get his pieces in place before he could strike. The ultimate checkmate.
    I understood his trepidation in not allowing me to see him in action. I mean, taking your girlfriend out on a hit? Holy screwed up date, Batman.
    And shit, the fact that I referred to myself as X’s girlfriend had to be a sign of one of my screws coming loose, too. I didn’t know how to define what we were, but it wouldn’t be with a label that was normal by society’s standards.
    In