The Auction Block (Agents of Interpol 1)

Page 64

"How many people have you killed?" Blake folds his arms across his chest.
"Six hundred sixty four in ten years," Sammi says.
I shudder. That's a lot of bodies.
"Jesus Christ," he breathes.
"See, Blake. You've no idea what you want . . . because you have no idea who I am, or what I'm capable of," I whisper.
The energy runs from my body. My knees buckle and I'm spent— deflated, a popped balloon. The floor rushes up to meet me, pain lancing through my head as darkness closes in.
Every time a voice reaches my ears, I stir from my sleep, but my eyes won't open as if I'm in an alcohol induced coma. They echo and sound distant, but I can still make them out.
"What are you going to do, bro?" Caleb.
A stuttered breath makes my chest tighten. I want to see what's happening, but my brain is in nothing but darkness.
"I don't know," Blake whispers.
"I think she loves you, man. Don't give up on her."
Quiet cries bounce inside my head, fading as the blackness closes in. I will my eyes to open, but nothing happens.
Voices rise again, but I'm still in some alternate place.
I'm never drinking like that again. Ever.
"Why does she have to go into the auctions? If you can find them, why not just have them raided?" Blake's pissed.
"Honestly, this is the way Jax has always done it. We don't question it," Dresden says conflicted.
No, Dres, don't tell him about that shit.
"So, she gets used as bait and no one stops to wonder why?"
"Blake, we're a very efficient team. Lily never complained and in ten years, we only had a couple fuck ups," Dresden says, sighing.
"Is there a chance we can get her to change her mind?" His fingertips lightly caress my cheek.
Damn it, Lily, wake up!
"I wish. She's a stubborn bitch when she puts her mind to something."
His voice fades and the blackness, laced with fear and pain, sucks me under again. I need to wake up and ease their minds. I have to make this right before leaving.
"Is she okay, Teresa?"
"She'll be okay, Mr. Mason. Too much booze knocked her out. She'll be hungover, but, no worries."
"She's been passed out for almost twenty-four hours. Is that normal for drunken stupors?"
"She drank a lot, I think. She be okay, though. Don't worry."