With Visions of Red: Book 3 (The Broken Bonds 3)

The moment of truth. “Why me?”

His eyes beam. “I have so much to learn from you, my love. I had wished to become your apprentice.” He exhales an excited, shaky breath. “There can be no greater thrill than to hunt a hunter.”

I smile. “And I’ve truly enjoyed this hunt.”

His features fall. “Yes. I suspect you’ve learned as much from me as I have from you. It’s terribly sad that it has to come to an end. I do wish you’d reconsider my offer.”

“I’m satisfied where I am.”

He sighs dramatically. “Well, disappointment aside, I do have a legacy to carry on.”

“Then we’re done?”

He chuckles. “Hardly. We’ve just begun.” Dark lust fills his eyes. “We should be leaving now.”

“Why would I go anywhere with you?”

“Because—” he sits forward and jabs the point of the blade into my thigh “—I have amassed a collection of evidence on not only your involvement with Connelly, but all your other dirty deeds you’ve committed over the course of your career.” He reaches into the inside pocket of his suit and flashes a USB drive before slipping it back in.

“See, I’ve spent two years studying you, my love. And I came prepared. I was more than happy to let my apprentice take the fall for Connelly, my final gift to you, as it were—but only upon your agreement of my terms.”

I shake my head resolutely. “I will never agree.”

“Then, you either come with me, or this information finds its way into the hands of your department. I feel confident that you’d rather die than be seen as one of the serial killers you’ve spent your career hunting.” His smile stretches. “See? Preparation. It’s of utmost importance.”

I nod.

“Move slowly,” he says. “I’ve arranged a lovely homecoming for you. I was so looking forward to it being a celebration in the joining of our talents…but I was also prepared for an alternate ending. Oh, the ending. How I love a good story.”

I allow him to lead me out of the bar. He keeps his weapon concealed under his sleeve, his arm stretched across the small of my back. But it’s unnecessary. Neither of us will give the other away.

r /> The music of the bar becomes a distant sound the farther we move through the city.

Near the crosswalk, Price turns onto a vacant alley and braces his hand against a building.

“Something wrong?” I ask.

Wiping his brow with the sleeve of his suit, he turns toward me. “Probably just the excitement of tonight.” He attempts a smile, but it’s weak. I can see the tremble of his lips.

“Are you sure about that?” I slink closer. “No sudden nausea. Chills. Clammy skin.”

He coughs and struggles to suck in a breath. Then, on unsteady feet, staggers down the alley. I follow.

“You should think twice before just taking what you want, Price.”

He stops. Turns to stare at me, understanding lighting his eyes.

“You can feel your lungs shutting down. The pressure on your chest mimics a heart attack…but it won’t be that quick. Or that merciful. You’ll appear as docile and calm as if you’re simply drifting off to sleep.”

He drops to his knees, splays his fingers against the rain-puddled pavement. I crouch beside him. “But the whole time,” I continue. “You’ll be trapped inside your body. A hostage. Unable to move, to talk—the paralytic fear consuming you.”

He wheezes in a tight breath. “What…?”

“Saxitoxin,” I answer. “I slipped it into the SoCo. Popular in the sixties as a racy CIA chemical weapon, it was only ever theorized, never put to use. But as you can see, its effectiveness is undeniable.”

He stretches out on his back, unconcerned with the Dumpster beside him, the runoff of rancid rainwater staining his suit. “It’s so cliché, beauty. Poison?” He coughs around a strained laugh. “You really are venomous.”

“Cliché, yes. But you didn’t really give me the same courtesy to prepare your demise. I had to improvise.”