Sweet Touch of Venom (Lethal Love #1)

22. Ronan

Chapter 22

Ronan

Only a fool would dare…

“ H ow did he escape?” Ire is streaming through my bones as I stand in the middle of the dark chestnut room. I clasp both hands in front of me. Boone crosses his arms and leans on the large seat pushed into the mahogany desk. The chair is huge, like it belongs in a castle. The room is full of decor resembling a king’s quarters. Etched brown vases, thick burgundy and gold carpet, the walls, and ceilings designed with pillars and wood. And an actual damn chandelier slap center in here.

It’s ridiculous .

The room is giving me a splitting headache on top of the fact that the bastard escaped. I hate I missed those minor details and that can cost us a lot, turning into something bigger. Like him fleeing and getting away with it.

Mal has pinched brows stepping around the room. “No clue I locked all the back doors and windows downstairs.”

“Your best bet is searching the place.” Chris’ voice pops in through the earpieces.

“He couldn’t have gotten that far then,” Anita says. I twist my head around to see her seated in another throne chair. Bringing my full body to her direction, my heavy boots scraping against the floor lazily.

I trail my eyes up those long legs that’s crossed over the other, tapping her boot in the air with her arm flat on the armrest.

“I can bet he’s probably running low on energy. Blood doesn’t stay put if he’s shot.” She looks at her nails while talking, then she finally gazes back at me. I could’ve winced at the fire igniting in her eyes. She’s pissed too, and that shit makes her even more sexy.

My eyes roam her face. Like painting a canvas, I brush all over her features. Soft brown skin, pouty plump lips, her flaring button nose, and almond-shaped brown eyes that’ll make a man drop to his knees when she looks at you. The dark eye shadow and natural thick lashes make her look wicked as fuck.

Deslumbrante.

Yes, she’s his little sister, but it doesn’t mean I can’t admire the obvious.

“Venom is right. We start the search now. I’m sure you’ll catch up to him in no time, Headman,” Chris reassures.

I squeeze my knuckles; the bones cracking and relieving some tension that’s built up. I’m exhausted as fuck; the fighting downstairs can leave one winded, and the adrenaline I had is slowly dissipating. But I won’t be able to sleep knowing he’s out there free and unscathed. That’s a no-go in my playbook. I gaze at her again, rolling down my sleeves. “Plan Z.”

I finally see a grin almost come to her lips and a shimmer glistens in her eyes. “Plan Z,” she repeats.

“Ro, take a look at this!” Mal yells out with a hint of concern. My head snaps in her direction, furrowing my brows. We all follow the trail of rustling. Inside a secret room with a table, ashtrays, and half full glasses of liquor stand on a wall a large paper with colored strings and pinpoints of?—.

Oh, fuck.

Nausea with a mix of rage bubbles in my gut at the sight. Anita comes up beside me, lowering her gun. “What is this?”

My stomach plummets to the floor, taking my heart right along with it. I crush my jaws together, hearing the molars crack. I narrow my eyes to see the extremities of the situation.

It’s fucked.

Photos of young girls and boys with blue and red dots on their heads. Different locations on the map. Cities, states?…?countries. Defeat lies in my chest for a split second. Each with a red X across their face. Either they’re preparing for the kidnapping or worst-case scenario. Someone already took them.

“It’s a map of every victim set to get kidnapped,” Mal answers for me, walking up to the wall.

“Or potential. We don’t know if they are actually marked,” Anita says, eyeing the map.

I couldn’t answer because once you think you are one step ahead, you’re not, and that makes me sick to my damn stomach. How did I not see this coming?

Anita walks to the wall, jabbing a finger at another picture. “Why are you on this wall?”

My gaze follows to where it lies. Studying the blank picture with a question mark above it. Only thing presented is the name.

“Poison,” Anita speaks.

That means they still have no clue who I am, just the name that’s circulated around for years, never figuring out my true identity. This can be a good thing. As I shift to walk out of the room of doom, my eyes flicker down to the table; something shiny and gold stands out. My brows furrow, narrowing in for a moment before snatching it up and heading out of the room.

“Boone, take the map. Mal, grab anything you see in here that can give you any clues on the next targets. We keep an eye on them.” I walk out of the room, theories, and ideas rummaging around in my head about when and where to start. First things first are getting their photo in the database and taking it from there.

Trepidation slick in the pits of my belly like the wounds inflicted in my chest. I have no control over this situation. No matter how many people I save, these fuckers are always after more. But I’ll kill every last person on this earth that’s involved in shit like this if I have to.

“If they are on the wall, that means their names and locations have been passed down and added to their rosters. It doesn’t stop here.” Dread is overpowering my senses. Like a natural disaster destroying everything in its path.

I was so caught in thought that I didn’t notice Anita whip in front of me. Her palm flat against my chest ceases my steps. She watches me for a moment, studying my face.

“We’ll figure it out,” she says softly, her head tipping to the side. The heat of her hand snapping me back into reality. This calamity in her gaze sort of extinguishes the burn. Until something flickers behind her calmness and stiffens again, catching a boundary, I presume. She instantly drops her hand, stepping back a few inches. “What’s the plan now?”

I step away slowly. “We search for this asshole. Let’s look for a trail of blood; we know he’s wounded.”

I divert my attention to Mal, who throws papers off the table searching for more information and Boone, who’s carefully rolling up the large map. “I need you two back at the compound with Bedford and the others. We need all the information on each and every one of these potential victims. All hands on deck.” Never questioning me, they nod with stern faces.

I began to search around; this big ass room has more hidden rooms than it presents to be. “Look for something out of the ordinary. There’s a secret escape.” It has to be.

A large ceiling to floor bookshelf is against the wall. These assholes read books? I doubt it. I step closer, examining the books. All the hardcovers are neatly arranged. Anita comes beside me, noticing what I’m seeing.

There is a bloody print on one of the books. The book is a burgundy color, so it would be hard to detect it at a far distance. Smart. Not smart enough.

I look over my shoulder to see Mal with a folder under a shoulder, heading out the door with Boone. “Anita and I will go find him. Meet you back there.”

Mal almost looks warily at Anita, then she nods again. “We’ll keep you updated.” Then they head out. “Chris, we’re coming.” Her voice trails off down the hall.

“That’s not suspicious at all.” Anita points her head at the book. She raises to touch the book, but I shoot my hand out, stopping her.

“Come behind me.” I nod my head to the back of me.

Her head cocks, and her brows lower. Knowing she’s mostly always taking initiative, which I don’t mind, it’s sexy as hell to me. I glance back at the shelf, following each part and crack. “If anything shoots out, I don’t need you getting hit. I’ll rather it be me than you.”

From the way her eyes soften following a one up on me, she pulls up her dagger from the holster. “And I told you if anyone or anything is going to kill you. It’s going to be me.”

She was just spitting fire at me downstairs, and now something has changed. Her attitude shifts so much that it gives me whiplash and on top of confusing the shit out of me. But I’ll take it any day.

I smirk at her subtly. “Touché. My death will be in your hands.” I wink before facing the decoy shelf again. “Now get your ass behind me.”

She doesn’t argue with it. I raise my hand, gently pulling down on the book. And there it is. A hollow, deep sound from the end of the shelf opens up wide like a giant’s mouth.

I bring up my gun, pointing at the black space. We stroll to it, finding an open door on the floor. “It goes underground,” Anita says, walking around the circular hole.

“I’ll meet you down.” She hums out with that eerie wave she did the first night we met.

Drop.

She engulfs down into the black tunnel, leaving me in awe and my mouth nearly open. Fuck, I’m finding myself more and more enthralled by her.

The sound of increased debris scratching below, which means she’s made it. I follow along, dropping through the hole; it’s a good ten-foot width. Not locking my knees, I land smoothly on my feet and look to see Anita already walking ahead. I’m beside her in no time, the tiny pebbles crushing beneath our feet and the echoes of our shallow breaths bouncing off the mildewed bricked walls. The air is clogged, thick and empty, and it’s not because of the grayish color. Light is barely visible, making it difficult to get a clear view of a possible blood trial.

“It’s nice to see there are no rocks down here.” Anita quirks, kicking the pebbles. “Especially since I also saw none when we arrived.” She treads slowly.

I raise a brow and grab my night vision glasses from my gear holster. “I guess the wind must’ve knocked them away.” I know what she’s getting at. Though I won’t admit to her, I came back out the night before and had immense pleasure in chucking every rock I can lift right into the woods.

She nods, grabbing her gear too. “Right. The wind,” she responds softly, flicking her gaze to the side of my face.

I clear my throat. “There.” Happy something came up just in time. I point down at the tiny specks of blood leading down the tunnel. I tighten my hold on the gun, my heart picking up speed from the pleasure of seeing this fucker. I can envision my boot right now, crushing his bone until I hear it snap.

A loud clunk echoes further down the tunnel. I raise my gun quickly.

“I would assume that’s not a rat,” Anita says; her weapon remaining raised.

“Unless that rat became a mutant, then no, it’s not.” My steps slow, one foot in front of the other.

“If that’s the case, then it’ll fit perfectly in your school.”

I slowly turn my head, giving her a dry look. “Very funny.”

She shrugs with a cute smirk. Side by side, we keep walking down the humid tunnel. Looking down and around as I walk, light shuns from a hole above. The moonlight shining through and cascading on the dirt below. I stop putting my arm out. Anita halts, following my gaze.

More blood. Lots of it.

“He’s nearby.” I squat down on my tiptoes, touching the blood and rubbing it between my fingers. Blood hasn’t phased me since the kidnapping. It’s like something sick and twisted snapped in my brain, and the things that make most people gag don’t affect me the same. “He’s not too far away; this blood is fresh.”

A low moan echoes from down the dark tunnel. I slowly stand back up, looking into the darkness. I step toward it, gun raised. My heartbeat exhilarating with anticipation.

“He’s closer than we thought,” Anita whispers, matching my steps like we both trained together for years.

We walk a few more feet before running right into a man gripping his abdomen. I remove my vision glasses to see him through and through. His face paling and perspiration shines, although it’s dark. My guess is he tried to make it to the pole to grip, but his injury to the stomach is unbearable.

I crack a maniacal grin at his pain. “There you are.”

He didn’t notice us creeping up on him; his eyes widen with pure fear once he hears my deep, shrilling voice and sees two people looking sinister as fuck looming from out the shadows of the dark.

He attempts to scoot back, hoping his little leg gestures will help him escape. I let out a laugh at how funny he looks and how he thinks that’ll do something.

“There’s no escaping us, Fred,” Anita says low, in a scary melody. She walks in the opposite direction while I move the other way, looking down at him. He whimpers, trying to lean up, his eyes bulging from his face, skating between us both rapidly.

“Are you him?” He stops, scrunching his face in pain and gripping his belly. He looks back up.

“You’ll find that out soon.”

We both stop in front of him, Anita placing her hand on her hip. I look at my watch, checking the time. “Should I do the honors or you?”

She taps her green colored nail on her chin. “Hmm. I think you got this one.”

I slowly stare back at him, giving a leering smirk. I toss my gun upside down so I can grasp the barrel.

“Wait man wait!” His bloody, shaking hands detaching from his wound to block the hit.

I don’t hear or care about his useless pleas. It only makes me angrier that he chose to beg for his life. So, I slam my gun onto his hand, possibly breaking his fingers. He screams out; the sounds bouncing everywhere. Then I knock him in the head, and he goes out cold. I want to do more to him right now, but I have something a lot more interesting planned.

I close my eyes, tossing my head back and inhaling a deep breath. Once I’ve cooled myself down, I look over at Anita, who watches me with a pondering gaze. The moon shining in, skating across her face, made her look like an angel sent to my hell. “What now?”

I look down at the knocked-out imbecile. Threading my hand through my hair, I put the gun back in my holster. “I’ll take him back to the compound. And torture him to death,” I say plainly.

I don’t have anything to hide, all my dark and sick ways I accept it now. She may or may not like it, but this is me. All of me. I have no shame in this side of me. I lean down, gripping the man’s jacket collar and lifting him off the ground to drag him.

“I want to be there,” she rushes out, stepping forward.

I can’t help my surprise. I shouldn’t be, since she is the one who left the man at that house nearly decapitated. I hated the person who, I thought, got in the way of my kill, but now I know it was from her and I want to see her in action.

“Fine with me.” I began dragging the guy away, and she trails behind me. I’m normally looking forward to the screams of the men, but all I can envision is the twisted shit this beautiful snake has up her sleeve for him.

* Deslumbrante- Gorgeous