The door opened to concrete and shadows.
The room beyond looked like something from a nightmare. Gray concrete walls stained with rust-colored streaks I didn't want to think about. A drain in the center of the floor. One flickering fluorescent light that buzzed like an angry insect.
And in the middle of it all, a metal chair with leather restraints.
"Welcome to our truth chamber," Marcus said, stepping in behind me. "We find the atmosphere helps clarify priorities."
I walked into the room, my footsteps echoing off the bare walls. The gun felt heavy in my hand. Loaded. Ready. The safety was already off.
"The subject will be brought in shortly," Marcus continued, positioning himself where he could watch everything. "Your task is simple. One bullet. Problem solved."
Simple. Right.
Two guards appeared from a side door, dragging someone between them. The person wore a black hood and moved like they'd been drugged or beaten. Maybe both. Jeans and a wrinkled dress shirt. Hands zip-tied behind their back.
They shoved the figure into the chair and secured the restraints. One guard looked at Marcus, who nodded.
The hood came off.
My blood turned to ice water.
Danny Reeves sat in the chair, blinking in the harsh light. Thirty-four years old, thinning brown hair, soft face that belonged behind a desk rather than in a place like this. He was a low-level dealer who'd been feeding information to the FBI for eight months.
He was my informant.
Danny's eyes found mine, and I watched recognition dawn on his face. His mouth opened slightly, like he was about to say something that would get us both killed.
"This piece of garbage," Marcus said, walking around the chair like he was examining merchandise, "has been selling information about our operations to law enforcement."
Danny's head snapped toward Marcus, then back to me. I could see the questions in his eyes, the confusion. What was Ruby Martinez doing here? Why was she holding a gun?
"Small-time at first," Marcus continued. "Street dealers, minor shipments. But lately he's been getting ambitious. Trying to infiltrate our higher-level operations."
That was a lie. Danny had never had access to anything beyond street-level intel. But Marcus didn't know I knew that.
"Do you have anything to say to him?" Marcus asked me.
I looked at Danny, who was staring at me with growing terror. He started to open his mouth again.
"Don't," I said sharply, raising the gun. "Don't say a fucking word."
Danny's mouth snapped shut. Smart man. Whatever he'd been about to say could have blown my cover completely.
"You know why you're here," I continued, loud enough for Marcus to hear every word. "You know what you did."
Danny nodded slowly. He was getting it. Playing along.
"I didn't... I never meant..." he started.
"Shut up." I stepped closer, keeping the gun aimed at his chest. "You think talking is going to help you now?"
"Please," Danny whispered. "I have a daughter."
He didn't. Danny Reeves was single, no kids, no family. That's what made him perfect as an informant—no leverage for criminals to use against him. But his lie sounded convincing.
"Should have thought about that before you decided to run your mouth to the cops," I said.
Marcus was watching everything with interest, like he was studying my technique. "Take your time," he said. "Some people find it helpful to let the subject contemplate their mistakes before proceeding."
Contemplate their mistakes. What a fucking psychopath.
I moved closer to Danny, close enough that Marcus couldn't see my face clearly. Danny looked up at me, and I saw desperation there. But also understanding. He knew what I was really asking him to do.
"Any last words?" I asked.
Danny met my eyes. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm sorry for everything I did."
I raised the gun, sighting down the barrel. My hand was steady even though my heart was hammering. One shot. That's all it would take.
"Fear," I said suddenly, loud enough for Marcus to hear. "You can see it in his eyes."
Marcus stepped closer. "What?"
"Look at him," I said, not lowering the gun. "He's shaking. Sweating. Heart probably beating so fast it might give out on its own."
Danny was a smart man. He started shaking harder, his breathing becoming rapid and shallow. Perfect performance.
"You know what I've learned?" I continued, still aiming at Danny's chest. "Sometimes the fear kills them before the bullet does."
Marcus frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"Watch." I stepped back but kept the gun trained on Danny. "You feel that, don't you? Your heart racing? Getting hard to breathe?"
Danny gasped, his eyes rolling back slightly. "I... I can't... chest hurts..."
"Fear-induced cardiac arrest," I said matter-of-factly. "Happens more often than you'd think. Especially with guys like this who aren't used to real consequences."
Danny made a choking sound and slumped forward in the chair, going completely limp. His head lolled to one side, eyes closed, breathing so shallow it was barely visible.
Marcus stepped closer to examine him. "Is he...?"
I fired the gun into the air. The concrete ceiling exploded in a shower of dust and chips.
"Now he is," I said, lowering the weapon. "Fear stopped his heart. The gunshot was just to make sure."
Marcus stared at Danny's motionless form, then looked at me with something that might have been respect.
"Interesting technique," he said. "Most people would have just shot him."
"Most people are wasteful. This way was cleaner. No blood to clean up, and it looks like he died from the stress of being caught. Natural causes."
It was complete bullshit, but Marcus seemed to buy it. He walked around the chair, studying Danny from different angles.
"Remarkable," he murmured. "I've never seen it happen quite like that."
Neither had I, because it hadn't happened. But Danny was selling the performance beautifully, maintaining the limp posture without any visible breathing.
"What do you want me to do with the body?" I asked.
"Leave it. My people will handle disposal." Marcus gestured toward the door. "Shall we return to more comfortable surroundings?"
I followed him back to the Aurora Room, my mind racing. I'd bought Danny time, maybe even saved his life if Marcus really planned to just "dispose" of him quietly. But there was no guarantee.
And the way Marcus had watched me during the whole thing suggested he might know more than he was letting on.
Back in his office, Marcus poured himself a drink from an expensive-looking bottle. He didn't offer me one.
"Welcome to the Darkmoon organization, Ms. Martinez," he said, raising his glass. "I think you're going to fit in very well here."
"What kind of work are we talking about?"
"Security. Protection services. Enforcement when necessary." He smiled. "Though after what I just witnessed, you might be perfect for our more... specialized operations."
More executions. Great.
"When do I start?"
"Immediately. You'll be working with one of our senior people. Someone who can show you how we operate."
Before I could ask who, the door opened and Kai walked in. He looked at me, then at Marcus, and I saw something flicker across his face. Surprise? Concern?
"Kai," Marcus said, "meet our newest team member. I think you two will work well together."
Kai's green eyes found mine, and I felt that strange pull again. The sensation that something was connecting us whether we wanted it or not.
"We've met," he said simply.
"Excellent. You can begin her orientation tomorrow night. Show her the territory, introduce her to the key players."
Kai nodded, but his expression was unreadable. "Of course."
Marcus finished his drink. "I'll leave you two to get acquainted. Kai, make sure she understands our protocols. All of them."
It was clearly a dismissal. Kai gestured toward the door, and I followed him out of the Aurora Room.
We walked in silence through the corridors until we reached the elevator. Once the doors closed and we were alone, Kai turned to me.
"What happened in there?" he asked.
"I passed the test."
"How?"
I studied his face, looking for any sign of what he was really thinking. "Why do you care?"
"Because Marcus doesn't usually require executions for new recruits. That test was specifically designed for you."
My blood went cold. "What do you mean?"
"I mean someone told him to put you through that. Someone who wanted to see how you'd handle killing."
"You think he knows who I really am?"
Kai was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
"I think Marcus knows exactly who you are, Emma Carter."
The elevator felt like it was falling, even though we weren't moving. My cover was blown. But if that was true, why was I still alive?
"And you?" I asked. "How much do you know?"
Kai looked at me with those impossible green eyes, and I felt that mark on my wrist begin to burn again.
"More than I should," he said. "And not nearly enough."
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened to reveal another corridor. But neither of us moved to get out.
"What happens now?" I asked.
"Now we figure out how to keep you alive long enough to finish whatever it is you came here to do."
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**End of Chapter 4**