He would have died anyway. He had syphilis. Better to go out by your own hand than to slowly lose your mind with pain.
Violet froze in place, hearing the voice of The Damned Thing. She took several deep breaths before closing her eyes. Blindly, she reached out and felt along the floor until her fingers brushed against the base of the statue. It felt like touching an ice cube. Without even intending to do so, Violet let her hands drift up, moving over the contours of the statue. Her mind filled in the details: the fat, stubby legs that led up to a bloated belly. A forked tail was curled along the hip, extending from just above the buttocks on the back. Bat-like wings were extended out from between the shoulder blades and the face felt like an artist’s nightmare: elephantine and inhuman. As her fingers moved past the thing’s carved mouth, something sharp pricked her skin and she cried out, almost opening her eyes as well. She sucked on her injured finger, tasting blood. Had the statue bitten her? Was that even possible?
She thought then about The Damned Thing’s words about Clint. Was he really carrying syphilis? Or was that just one of its awful lies?
I don’t need to lie, Violet. The truth is always a greater weapon.
“Fuck you,” she hissed. She grabbed the statue roughly by the base and stood up, yanking off the sheet that been covering the restraining bed. She wrapped the statue up tightly in the sheet and then opened her eyes, secure that she wouldn’t be forced to see the thing’s awful visage.
She was about to leave the room when the door abruptly swung open and Eloise Green stood there, staring at her. The girl’s eyes flickered down to Clint’s dead body and for a second Violet was terrified that she would scream and bring attention on them. But the girl simply stared in silence… as if she saw worse things on a daily basis. She looked back at Violet and wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m sorry. When the lights blinked on and off, I got scared.”
“It’s okay. We need to get to the basement.” Violet hurried out, letting Eloise fall in step. “If we don’t get rid of this thing soon, I’m afraid none of us are getting out alive.”
The two women hurried back downstairs and came to a sudden stop. Will and a tall black man that Violet guessed to be Jasper Williams were standing facing them, hands raised in the air. Standing behind them were Johann Burkard and Aleister Crowley. Burkard had a pistol shoved into Will’s back.
“Sorry, Violet. They took me by surprise.” Will looked incredibly chagrined and under other circumstances Violet would have laughed at the expression on his face. He was obviously terribly embarrassed by this turn of events.
Burkard was staring at Eloise with interest. “That does not look much like Mr. Jacobs, Violet. Did you trade him in for a real woman?”
Violet was aware that she was still holding her gun in her right hand. Unfortunately, she’d left her purse in Eloise’s room and the girl hadn’t thought to bring it with her. That meant that she had only one clip of ammunition… more than enough to take care of two men under normal circumstances. But both Burkard and Crowley were far from the usual goons she had to kill. “This is Eloise Green. She has a history with The Damned Thing.”
Burkard’s eyes widened. “She is the one who stole the statuette from the professor, isn’t she? Lazlo told me she was here.”
Eloise took a step back, moving behind Violet. The girl had wide, frightened eyes and Violet thought she looked a bit like a rabbit. She wasn’t sure if Eloise was about to bolt, freeze in panic or take up arms against her enemies.
Crowley stepped around the prisoners, his eyes riveted to the object held tightly in Violet’s grip. “Hand it here, child. There’s no reason you have to die for it. It was simple chance that led to your possession of it.”
“My husband died for it. So did my partner. And one of my best friends just killed himself because of it!” Violet tightened her grip on The Damned Thing and raised her gun, leveling it at Crowley’s head. “So it looks to me like we’ve got a Mexican standoff.”
Burkard moved closer, placing the barrel of his pistol against the back of McKenzie’s head. “Not really. You are certainly welcome to kill Crowley if you want. Hell, I almost did it myself a few minutes ago. But I am betting you would prefer not to have your boyfriend’s brains sprayed all over the floor.”
Violet hesitated. Crowley didn’t look very afraid, either. But with steely determination, she cocked her pistol. “Go ahead and kill him, Burkard. I’ll have shot Crowley and turned my gun on you before his body hits the floor.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“No. I’m not. Will’s a wonderful guy but this is more important. I can’t let you two get hold of this. If we all have to die together, that’s fine.”
McKenzie turned his head slightly, addressing Burkard. “She’s right. She knows I’d understand.”
Crowley was ignoring the conversation, even though his life might depend on its outcome. He was staring at Eloise Green, using his hypnotic gaze to take hold of her. It was a skill he’d learned in the Orient and he’d put it to good use over the years. He could bend the wills of almost anyone, especially if they were as broken as this girl appeared to be. He saw Eloise relax, her gaze locked on his. Slowly, he began to whisper to her. Her eyes dropped to his lips, reading his nearly soundless words.
Eloise nodded, suddenly jerking into motion, grabbing Violet by the throat and squeezing hard. The unexpected attack caused Violet to drop The Damned Thing and it hit the floor with a loud cracking sound. Crowley rushed forward to scoop it up, even as Violet was trying to extricate herself.
“I have it!” Crowley roared.
Burkard raised the butt of his gun and brought it down hard against the back of McKenzie’s head. The police chief groaned and swayed on his feet, landing hard. Burkard then pointed the gun at Jasper and motioned towards a nearby patient’s room. “Unlock the door and get inside.”
Jasper fumbled for his keys, using one to open the door. He looked over at Violet, who had freed herself but who was now staring with concern at the two villains, both of whom possessed broad smiles. Eloise was standing there, looking confused. The thought of her suffering more indignities roused a sense of fury in Jasper’s chest and with a growl the big man suddenly whirled about, swinging a beefy fist that caught Johann Burkard flat on the nose. A crunching sound was audible as the bone splintered. Blood spurted from each nostril and Burkard stumbled back. A shard of his nose had been driven up into his brain and he was suddenly confused as his thoughts became disjointed. He blinked as darkness encroached upon his consciousness and he slipped to his knees, gibbering nonsense.
Violet seized that moment to brush aside Eloise. She pointed her gun at Crowley once more and this time she squeezed off two shots. The magician had already begun ducking and turning so the bullet wounds weren’t fatal. One of the shells caught him in the back of his shoulder and the other nicked the top of his ear, creasing his skull but doing no permanent damage.
Violet strode towards him and yanked The Damned Thing away. She looked at Jasper. “Thanks for that. Listen, can you take care of Eloise and Will?”
“I can do that.” Jasper looked down at Crowley, who was groaning. “What about him?”
Violet knew she should put a bullet into the man’s head and leave it at that. Killing certainly wasn’t something she minded doing… but generally she killed in self-defense. Maybe she should be more proactive this time? She’d be doing the world a favor by removing a piece of trash like Crowley…
Do it, Violet! You’re right — as long as he’s alive, he’s a risk to you and everyone else! How many innocent lives will he ruin just because you felt guilty for killing him?