Emperor of Rage: Chapter 46

Fuck. The farmhouse looks just as deserted as it did when I came here before.

Night still clings to the air, wrapping the place in a thick, heavy fog that presses against my skin, though I can just start to see the first glint of morning light creeping over the horizon.

I’m crouched low in the brush, my eyes locked on the crumbling structure. It’s been abandoned for years, left to rot like a festering wound on this desolate farm, but Jonas is here.

I can feel it.

My fists clench as I wait. The farmhouse door creaks open, and my breath stills.

It’s him.

He was just a boy like me that night twenty years ago when he screamed at me over and over on this very spot.

You killed him. You killed our father. You bastard, you killed him.

I remember shaking Jonas as he knelt next to Kasper’s lifeless body, cradling my grandfather’s head in his lap. I told to him to come with me, to leave this place and the nightmares behind and start a new chapter.

He refused. He looked up at me and told me he’d make me pay.

Tonight, he’s finally making good on that threat.

He’s moving casually as he steps into the faint light, almost lazily, like this place holds no power over him. Like the ruins of our shared, broken past is his kingdom now.

He walks toward a car parked by the edge of the property. He climbs in and drives off until the low growl of the engine fades into the distance. He’s heading toward the nearby town of Mǿsvinger.

I suspected as much on the flight here this second time. That’s why the place looked abandoned the last time I was here—he’s keeping Hana, Freya, and Kir hidden somewhere on the property while he stays in town.

The thought sends a rush of adrenaline through me. They’re here.

My phone buzzes. I don’t answer it, in case Jonas has hidden security measures in place. But after I deny Kenzo’s call, I text him back.

Me

I’m here. Jonas just left.

Kenzo

WAIT for us, Mal. We just landed. We can be there in forty-five minutes.

My teeth grind. I’m glad Kenzo is here along with Tak, Damian, and a forty-strong combined force of Mori-kai and Nikolayev men. But I don’t have forty-five minutes.

Freya, Hana, and Kir might not, either.

I text Kenzo back the complete lie that I’ll wait for him, so he doesn’t freak out or try calling me or anything. Then I turn off my phone.

I spring from the brush, my boots silent on the damp earth as I rush across the yard. I reach the house and push the door open, the stench of decay assaulting my nostrils.

My muscles tense involuntarily as I step inside, scanning every inch of the dark, crumbling interior. The memories of Kasper’s cruelty and the pain we endured in this place slam into my psyche all at once.

“Freya!” I call, my voice echoing through the empty space.

No response.

I move faster now, tearing through the rooms, desperate for any sign of them. I missed it when I was here before, I refuse to miss it again.

There’s nothing on the main floor. Just remnants of old furniture, and the ghosts of our tortured childhoods. The second floor is barely able to hold my weight, but there’s nothing there anyway. I head toward the basement, my chest tightening as I descend the creaky wooden steps.

This is where Kasper used to keep us. Beat us. Torture us. The horrors of the past gnaw at my insides, but I push through them, focusing on the present.

I search every corner, every crevice. They have to be here somewhere. I just have to find⁠—

I freeze when I see it. An odd piece of flooring in the far corner, strangely clean in the grimy, dust-covered space.

My gut twists.

I use the crowbar leaning against the wall to pry up the floorboard, and there it is: a metal door that opens to a metal staircase leading down into the darkness below.

My pulse thuds as I descend, the narrow spiral staircase winding down into the blackness. The air grows colder and damper when I get to the concrete floor at the bottom. With the dim light coming in from above, I can just make out a long stretch of hallway delving ahead into the gloom.

So that’s where I go, moving cautiously, all my senses on high alert. The walls are stone, perhaps some kind of ancient bunker. Every sound echoes off them in the stillness—my breathing, the dull thud of my boots, the distant drip of water.

I’m getting close. I can feel it.

Then I hear a sound behind me. At first, it’s just small, metallic, grating. But then the whole hallway booms as the door I propped open at the top of the stairs slams shut.

The hallway is plunged into complete darkness.

My spine snaps rigid and I freeze at the sound of footsteps, clanging on the metal staircase.

And then…laughter.

“Maleqqi,” a voice growls, low and familiar. So very Norwegian-sounding. “It’s good to be back here with you.”

My blood runs cold.

Jonas.

“This is where we were made men, Mal,” Jonas’ voice whispers in the darkness. “This is where everything started.”

The light is completely gone now, swallowed whole by the gloom. I reach for my phone to turn it back on, but I can feel him near. So I turn, fists raised, ready for the fight I know is coming.

Pain explodes through my temple as his fist slams out of the pitch black and into my face. I go reeling, seeing stars as I tumble back and crash into the stone wall behind me.

I grunt, shaking it off and righting myself, fists up again, even though I can’t see a goddamn thing.

Shit.

I groan again when I get hit a second time, this time from behind. Pain explodes down my neck and back as his fist slams into me. I whirl, throwing a wild punch, but it only connects with air.

I wince, catching myself against the wall as his leg sweeps mine, smashing hard into the side of my knee. He lands another punch right on my jaw, and I groan when the taste of copper explodes across my tongue.

What the fuck. I can’t see anything. Meanwhile, he’s scoring direct hits every time. The fucker’s gotta be wearing some kind of night vision goggles.

“Come on, Mal,” Jonas taunts. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft.”

I throw another wild punch into the darkness, but it’s useless. He strikes again, a brutal hit that connects with my ribs, knocking the wind from my lungs. I stumble, struggling to find my footing.

He’s relentless. He hits me again.

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to keep going, even as the pain and punishment intensifies.

“You know what’s going to happen, Mal?” Jonas’ voice slithers through the darkness. “You’re going to stay alive just long enough to watch her die. But not before I make her a monster, same as us. She’s going to kill Kir, Mal,” Jonas laughs. “I’m going to make her kill her own father.”

I stop cold, his words sinking in like poison.

“And then she’ll be destroyed, Mal. She’ll never recover from it.”

Rage burns within me, white-hot and blinding. I lunge forward, but he’s already danced away. I hear him behind me again, his steps light and deliberate. I’m losing this. I’m losing her.

Then I see it—a thin crack of light cutting through the blackness, just ahead. A door, maybe.

I wait, listening, sensing his position. He strikes again, but this time I’m ready. I grab him by the arm, using the momentum of his punch to throw him off balance. It gives me just enough time.

I rush toward the door, my hand fumbling frantically for the knob, my fingers curling around an old-fashioned crank lock. Jonas is right behind me, his footsteps pounding on the stone floor. I twist the lock, yanking the door open.

Instantly, light floods the hallway.

It’s not bright, by any means. But Jonas screams just the same, clutching his face as the ultra-sensitive goggles I was right about him wearing magnify that light to the brightness of a fucking supernova and send it right into his optic nerves.

He roars in pain, stumbling back, disoriented, and I seize the moment. I charge him, hitting him hard and tackling him onto the floor of the room I’ve just unlocked.

Jonas recovers faster than I expected. He rips off the goggles and slams into me with brutal force.

I feel the blade before I see it, a sharp sting of steel as it pierces my side. I roar in pain, but I don’t let go. We’re locked together in a vicious struggle, his hand twisting the knife deeper.

“Mal!!”

Her voice cuts through the chaos. I look up, stunned. Through the haze of pain, I see them.

Hana. Kir.

Freya.

Our eyes lock, pure fire exploding between us. My hurt lurches, and the burning need to take her into my arms is almost overwhelming.

But then Jonas twists the knife again, sending a fresh wave of agony through my body. He yanks it out, only to viciously stab it right back into my ribs. I roar in pain, my vision blurring and my strength flooding out of me along with my blood.

“Mal!”

Hana’s voice grabs my attention. I blink through the pain, only now seeing just how grim it looks down here. The walls, the lone light. The filthy floor.

Kir, who genuinely looks dead lying on the ground.

Hana’s face is pale and hollow when our eyes lock. But she grits her teeth, forcing a braveness into her eyes as she and Freya wrench themselves off the floor and bolt toward me.

“No.”

My pulse jangles and Freya and Hana skid to a stop when Jonas yanks a gun out of the back of his pants. He levels it at the two of them, grinning monstrously and shaking his head.

“That’s not how we play this game,” he growls darkly. “Back.”

Freya stands tall, glaring pure hate at Jonas before her eyes dart to mine and soften. Hana looks like she’s about to fall over, but she also holds her ground, right next to Freya.

“Sit. DOWN,” Jonas barks coldly. “Or I’ll let him bleed out right here.”

He twists the knife still embedded in my ribs. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of visibly reacting. Just the same, my teeth grind, pain coursing through my body as I fight the urge to scream.

Freya half lurches toward me before I stop her.

“No,” I croak, shaking my head as Jonas levels the gun at her. “No, Freya…”

“Listen to him, girl,” Jonas spits venomously. He grabs me by the arm, dragging me back toward the door as I roar in overwhelming pain.

Out of nowhere, a shape launches into Jonas. Hana lets out a yell as she smashes an elbow into his nose, catching him off guard. He drops my hand, snarling as he tries to fend her off. But Hana’s been practicing jiu-jitsu since she was six.

She’s a whirlwind as she catches Jonas in the chest and stomach, then drops him to one knee with a leg sweep. Her hand slams into his face, knocking him sideways as he spits a torrent of blood.

“Mal!”

I wince as Freya suddenly grabs me up off the floor and yanks me to her, sobbing. “Let’s⁠—”

The gunshot thunders so loud it feels like it’s coming from inside my head. I spin just in time to see stone fragments falling from the ceiling as Hana stumbles back, her face pale, her hands over her ears.

In one motion, a furious-looking Jonas winds up and cracks the butt of the gun across her face. Freya screams as my cousin goes toppling sideways, the light in her eyes flickering on and off as she drops to the ground.

“The next bullet goes through your fucking skull.”

The room goes still. Desperate fury roars through me as I look over to where Hana is slumped on the floor, barely moving.

“Back up,” Jonas hisses at Freya.

She doesn’t move.

“BACK. UP.”

It’s only when he aims the gun at me that she drops my arms. Tears bead in her eyes as she pulls away from me, her face going even paler.

“Don’t you dare fucking hurt him,” she chokes.

Jonas just chuckles as he grabs my arm again and yanks, making me groan as a fresh surge of pain floods over me.

“No promises,” he snickers, dragging me by the arm after him out the door.

“We’re going to go play a game, Mal,” Jonas snarls, his voice dripping with malice. “We’ll see how long you last.”

My head twists, and I lock eyes with Freya for one second.

Then the door slams shut behind us, sealing me away from the people I came to save. The darkness closes in once again, and all I can hear is Jonas’ twisted laughter.