When Villains Rise (Market of Monsters #3) - Rebecca Schaeffer Page 0,1

remembering it was soundproofed and Kovit definitely couldn’t hear her, she pushed it open.

The screams hit her first.

Fabricio generally had a soft, unassuming voice. It was the kind of voice that you trusted. It was the kind of voice that belonged on a gentle soul, not on a traitorous jerk who sold the person who saved him to the black market.

His screaming was high-pitched and sharp, serrated and coated in something angry. It was a scream of pain and rage, not a scream of pain and fear. Nita wasn’t sure how she could tell the difference, but she could.

Fabricio slumped in his chair, wrists and ankles bound by silver duct tape. His tousled brown hair fell over his face, and the skin around his eyes was bright red from crying, the tear streaks mixing with the blood from his broken nose and painting pink lines down his cheeks.

Kovit stood in front of Fabricio, a twisted smile curling his mouth into something obscene, even as his body shivered in ecstasy from Fabricio’s pain. His hands were sticky with dark red blood, though from her angle, she couldn’t actually see the source of it. His black hair was glossy as a shampoo commercial, his skin almost glowing with health, his black eyes bright and hungry. The more pain he ate, the more beautiful he became, and as his body trembled with pleasure as Fabricio’s pain slid through him, Nita could see the subtle changes the pain made on his appearance.

He lowered the scalpel when he saw Nita, and his smile fell a little, concern replacing the manic glee that had been there moments before. In front of him, Fabricio choke-sobbed, his shoulders heaving for breath.

Nita spoke without looking directly at either of them, her words a rush, because she wanted to get them out. “Kovit, can we talk outside for a moment? It’s important. Something’s happened.”

Kovit’s frown deepened, but he nodded slowly. “All right.”

He wiped his bloody hands on Fabricio’s tattered T-shirt, but not all the blood came off. The brownish dried streaks looked almost like melted chocolate.

Kovit turned to look at Fabricio and leaned forward, a hungry, delighted smile on his face. “Don’t worry, we’re not done here. I’ll be back later.”

Fabricio choked, trying to lean away, and gasped great heaving breaths that turned quickly into sobs.

Nita turned around quickly, unable to look at Fabricio any longer. It wasn’t guilt she felt when she looked at him, because she didn’t feel guilty. He deserved everything that Kovit was doing to him.

But she did feel something, and she didn’t like what it was. It was different than her discomfort when Kovit had made other people scream—though there was still plenty of that too—but looking at Fabricio meant facing her own part in his screams.

It meant facing that she didn’t actually feel bad about what she’d done.

She left the room, and Kovit followed her out, still shivering with Fabricio’s pain, closing the door behind him and sealing Fabricio’s sobs away. Nita gestured toward the reception room of the recording studio so that they could have some privacy away from Gold.

She dodged past the ultramodern reception desk and then hesitated in front of the black leather couches. Finally, she turned to him. “You better sit down for this.”

Worry etched lines in Kovit’s face. “Nita . . .”

“Just sit.”

He sat down, and she stared at him for a moment, struck by the incongruity of the monster she’d seen a moment before, hungry and viciously cruel as he caused pain, and the young man sitting in front of her, patient and concerned. Sometimes it was hard to reconcile that all the different facets of Kovit were the same person.

She sat down beside him, their legs just brushing against each other. She could feel the warmth of his body faintly against her.

She looked down at her hands, and then forced herself to meet his eyes. “It’s about Henry.”

He looked away, hair falling over his eyes. “What about him?”

Nita could still hear the snap of Henry’s neck as Kovit broke it. It was echoed by a snap in Kovit’s soul as he broke something in himself doing it.

“After you came back to him, before he died . . .” She took a deep breath for courage. “He sold your information to INHUP.”

Kovit froze, his whole body so still she wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

“What?” His voice cracked slightly.

“He sent them all the videos. All the pictures. It’s in processing right now, but the INHUP contact said your