Venom (Page 70)

"Having fun yet, you sick bastard?" I growled.

The giant’s head whipped around to me. His mouth fell open, and he started to sputter out some excuse about what he was doing. But it was too late for that. Much, much too late.

I threw myself at him. My knives flashed like liquid silver in the light. And someone else’s blood besides Roslyn’s spattered onto the ivory comforter.

Less than a minute later, the dead giant thumped to the floor. I wiped my bloody knives off on the comforter, then used them to saw through the ropes that bound Roslyn to the bed. The vamp turned her head to look at me. I didn’t know if she could see me through her battered, black eyes, so I reached forward and gently squeezed her hand.

"It’s Gin," I said in a low voice.

"Gin?" Roslyn whispered through her bloody, swollen lips. "You… came… for me? After… I left… Jo-Jo’s… Why… would you… do that?"

I stared at the vampire’s body, at all the horrible things that had been done to her on the outside, and all the other horrible things that I couldn’t see on the inside. All the things that might never, ever heal. All the things that I’d brought down upon her when I’d asked her to help me get into Mab Monroe’s party. The guilt from it made me sick, and I knew that it always would. I was Roslyn’s now, and I always would be. Whatever she needed, I would freely give to her, anytime, anyplace.

Still, I made my voice as gentle as I could, given the cold rage and sharp guilt still burning and twisting through my veins.

"Because I’m the Spider. Because my retirement’s been a f**king bore. Because you asked me to do a job, and I never go back on my word. Because we’re friends, in a weird sort of way. But mainly because nobody deserves to be treated like this-except the bastards who live here." I paused to let the cold venom seep back into my tone. "And you can believe that I’m not leaving this place until every single one of them is dead."

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Roslyn Phillips wasn’t in the greatest shape of her life, which is why I unzipped one of the pockets on my vest and drew out a tin of Jo-Jo Deveraux’s healing ointment. I made Roslyn lie still on the bed while I slathered the ointment on the worst of her wounds on her chest and arms.

It was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do.

I knew that Roslyn didn’t want me touching her, that she might not want anyone touching her ever again, given how badly she’d been beaten. But it had to be done to save her. Roslyn flinched every time my fingers brushed her body and with every single movement of my bloody hands, but she didn’t complain, and she didn’t ask me to stop.

I’d never seen anything so brave in my entire miserable life.

Still, I did the best I could to distract Roslyn, keeping up a steady stream of chatter, telling her exactly how the bastard who’d been about to rape her had died and exactly how I was going to do the same thing to Elliot Slater. I don’t know if it was my cold, measured words or the healing power of Jo-Jo’s magic, but Roslyn stilled after a few minutes, only flinching every other time I touched her.

While Roslyn lay on the bed, letting Jo-Jo’s ointment patch up the worst of her wounds, I opened one of the closet doors, looking for something else for her to wear-something that didn’t have her own blood all over it. To my surprise, a variety of women’s clothing was mixed in among Elliot Slater’s oversize suits. I grabbed some pants, a sweater, socks, shoes, and even some clean underwear from the interior and tossed them to Roslyn.

"Take off those bloody rags, and put these on," I said in a gentle voice. "And then we’ll get you the hell out of here."

The vamp did as I commanded, even though her movements were still slow and stiff, despite the healing ointment. I helped her as best I could. When she finished, I dug another small tin out of one of my vest pockets and handed it to her.

"Here. Put this one on your face. It’s more of Jo-Jo’s ointment. It’ll hold you together long enough for you to get to the dwarf so she can heal you up properly."

Roslyn’s hands shook so badly that I took the tin back from her, dipped my fingers into the ointment, and slathered it on her face.

"Sorry for the rush," I murmured. "But Elliot Slater’s got Finn downstairs, and I need to get to him before Slater kills him."

"Finn’s… down there?" Roslyn rasped, letting me work on her face.

"Yeah," I replied. "Seems he had the same idea about rescuing you that I did. Offered himself up as a distraction so I could slip inside the mansion."

Some of the swelling went down on Roslyn’s face, and I saw the gleam of tears in her toffee eyes.

"No matter what happens," she rasped. "Thank you… Gin… for coming… for me."

The vamp fumbled about until she wrapped her bloody hand around mine. I gently squeezed her trembling fingers.

"You’re welcome," I said. "Now let’s get you out of here."

While I waited for Jo-Jo’s healing ointment to put Roslyn’s face back in some kind of working order, I questioned the vamp about how many more guards there might be inside the house.

"How many have you killed already?" she asked.

"Four."

She nodded. "There should be two left, besides Slater."

"Where would they be?" I asked, checking my silverstone knives and the two swords still strapped to my back.

"If you say he’s got Finn, then the two guards will be downstairs with Slater," she replied. "He always likes to have at least two men with him when he’s working on someone. That’s where he took me first. When he got tired of hitting me, he brought me up here. One of his men came in and got him before he could-"

Her voice broke on the last few words, and I gave her a minute to compose herself, even though every second I delayed was another second that Finn got the shit beat out of him. I didn’t know if I could stand it if my foster brother ended up the same way that I had that night at the community college when Slater had pummeled me. Just looking at Roslyn made me want to rewind time, go back, and kill all the bastards who had hurt her again-slowly. But I couldn’t do that. All I could do was go forward and hope that I got to Finn in time.

I opened the bedroom door and peered out into the hallway. Everything was just as hushed as it had been before. I whispered to Roslyn to keep close to me and keep quiet. The vamp nodded.

I eased down the hallway. About thirty feet past the bedroom door, the right wall opened up, revealing the enormous living room a floor below. I got down on my hands and knees, crawled forward, and peered around the corner, through the wide slats of the banister that ringed the outer wall.

A floor below me, Elliot Slater stood in the middle of the living room, unbuttoning the sleeves of his pale blue shirt. A giant stood on either side of him, slightly behind their boss. The two men had their hands clasped in front of them, just like good little soldiers would. Their shirt sleeves were already rolled up, their hands already stained with blood-Finn’s blood.