ALARIC POV
The door slammed shut behind me hard enough to shake the walls, and for a second I just stood there with my hand still on the handle, chest rising and falling too fast, knuckles still stained with her blood, her screams still ringing somewhere in the back of my skull even though she had passed out long before I was done.
Useless.
Completely f*****g useless.
A low growl ripped out of my chest before I could stop it, my jaw tightening so hard it hurt, because I had pushed her past the point of breaking and still she had given me nothing more than scraps, fragments, half-information that only made everything worse.
Collectors.
Auction.
South.
No names. No faces. No location.
Not even a f*****g number. She used a burned phone and they called her with an unknown number each
