Callum grabs Todd by the hair, yanking his head and pressing the edge of his knife—the same one I stabbed Kali with—against the front of his throat. Cal doesn’t even seem unhappy doing it. Actually, he smiles.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Todd pleads, but it’s clear from his tone of voice that he hasn’t fully grasped the sincerity of his peril. “If you bow to God, you will find salvation. If you bow to the devil, you will burn.”

A strange laugh escapes Victor as he comes around to stand beside me.

“I wouldn't bow to Satan anymore than I'd bow to God,” Vic says, slipping a fresh cigarette between his lips. I stare at him, and he lets his dark gaze slide to mine. We’re caught up in each other all of a sudden, and my head spins. He sounded way too hot when he said that, I think, tearing my gaze away to look at Todd. “Try a little harder than that, pervert. You think God wants a child-fucker in his kingdom anymore than he wants assholes like us?”

Victor approaches the chair where Todd’s sitting, Callum’s knife still pressed to his throat, and he leans down in front of him. Lucky for Todd, he can’t see the way Vic looks at him, like he’s so much trash that needs taking out.

“Listen to me, Todd. We don’t want to hurt you.” Lie. The feeling of it coats my skin like ash, and I shiver. I won’t survive it if Vic lies to me ever again, by omission or otherwise. I’ll have to tell him that. “But, what we do want is money.” I almost laugh at that, biting my lip to keep the sound back. Callum grins at me, adjusting the knife just enough that a small drop of blood slides down the front of Todd’s pale throat.

“Money?” he asks, sounding hopeful. “I have money. In cash, too.” Callum pulls the knife back and then hits Todd upside the head with the handle, making his head flop forward with a groan.

“Shut your fucking face,” he whispers, and the sound makes me go cold inside. Holy crap.

Vic just stays right where he is, waiting patiently. Aaron and I exchange a look, and I can see in his expression that he wants to spirit me away from here, take me somewhere—anywhere—else. He doesn’t want me to see this and, since this is my request, I can walk away at any time.

I make zero moves to do so.

Todd filmed me in a bikini; he bought me for his son.

That, and I don’t know what he did to Penelope when I wasn’t around.

“Coraleigh Vincent,” Victor continues, standing up straight. Hael takes a seat on an ancient chair, its frame skeletal. All that’s left in the seat are rusted metal springs. “We know she brings you girls. That’s what we’re interested in. We don’t want a onetime payout; our game is longevity.”

Victor Channing is such a talented actor that I almost believe what he’s saying. I’d be shocked if Todd didn’t. After all, when has a vigilante gang ever come after a pedophile purely for the sake of justice?

No, it’s much more believable—and much more likely—that we’d be in it for money, as willing to trade girls into sex slavery as Coraleigh. If a woman who works for the department of human services can be that twisted, that cruel, then why not us?

“Yeah, yeah, I know Leigh,” Todd says, shaking so badly that he rattles a bit on the chair. “I can get you in touch with her for sure.” Victor and Hael exchange a look, and the former nods. Hael stands up from the chair and grabs a black latex glove from a box on the table, snapping it onto his left hand and then doing the same for his right. He picks up a cell phone from a rickety side table and holds it up to show that the screen is locked.

“What’s your pin code for your phone, Todd?” Vic asks as Oscar watches the scenario unfold with disinterest. Aaron is the only one who looks actively uncomfortable, but when his eyes glance Todd’s direction, they shimmer with the sort of darkness that nightmares are made out of. He hates Todd as much as the other Havoc Boys, he just doesn’t revel in the chase like they do. Maybe that’s the difference between monsters who are made … and monsters who are born? Vic is a born beast, for sure.

Todd hands out his code and Hael opens his phone up, searching the contacts for Coraleigh’s name. She comes right up, and Vic smiles.

“Perfect. Now, here’s what we’re going to do.”

I accept the phone as Victor explains his plan to Todd, scrolling past Coraleigh’s number to find Eric’s. If I analyze my feelings too deeply, I’ll chicken out here. Calling Eric, letting Todd tease him with the idea of me, and then using my voice to warm him up to the idea of coming here. It grosses me out.

It also excites me.

Who knew vengeance could be such a turn-on?

The trees in the front yard of the property are magnificent, old and untouched by the greediness of human hands. Most of them are evergreens, so they’re still pretty, even though it’s verging on the edge of winter. Here and there, a barren oak tree sits, a reminder that this property was once a part of the Springfield elite; they always marked their land with oaks as a status symbol.

Victor and me, we’re both old money turned dirt poor.

“Do you like this place?” Callum asks, pausing nearby, hunched over in his hoodie with his hands in his front pocket. His hood is down, which is surprising. It’s one of his shields, and he uses it well. “I mean, do you really want to get married here?” He pauses as I glance his way, studying his exposed calves and knees and all the silver scars crisscrossed over his skin. “I know Victor does, because it’s his grandma’s place and even if he’s too stubborn to admit it, he loved her more than anything.”

There’s a strong pause there, but I don’t bother to fill in the blanks aloud. I know what Cal is thinking: except for you. Except for Havoc, maybe.

“I like it here,” I admit, looking around the front yard at the collapsing gazebo, the patchy grass, the porch that has definitely seen better days. “It used to be something, but now it’s nothing. It’s a good reminder that life can turn in an instant.” I reach into the pocket of my leather jacket and extract a joint. Cal steps forward before I can ask and removes a lighter from his own pocket, lighting me up before I can even ask.

My eyes lift to his, and he smiles.

“Todd being here, that doesn’t bother you?” he asks, but I shake my head. Each drop of blood that Todd sheds belongs to me. It’s penance, and it sinks into this hallowed ground like a blessing. The earth is thirsty, and I am hungry.

I’m owed the sweet taste of vengeance.

“Every name on my list becomes a sacrifice,” I say, taking two drags on the joint before passing it to Callum. Our fingers touch, sparking joy in my hands that travels straight to my heart. “It’s like an offering to the dark goddess that rests inside my heart.”

Callum throws his head back with a laugh, one that’s husky and broken and oh-so beautiful.

“You make pretty metaphors, Bernie,” he says, flashing teeth at me. The tattoos on his bare arms draw my attention, highlighting the thick, rounded curves of his biceps. In junior high, when Cal was thin and lean and angelic looking, I never would’ve believed he’d bulk up the way he did, or that he’d be covered in so much ink. Pain changes a person though, doesn’t it? “Don’t ever stop. Life was so much more boring without you.”