Final Kill (IKK Crime Series #3)

by S.T. Ashman

“One of your kind has broken the pact of evil and turned on her own,” the letter read.

And heaven only knew how many other demons Jan Novak had recruited for his sick games. All-seeing. All-hearing. Almost godlike, Novak knew everyone’s moves—who did what, where, and when. He had the power to manipulate people like chess pieces.

And meetings with Rose specifically targeted the Train Track Killer. She wasn’t involved in our other endeavors: hunting serial killers. For now, everyone seemed content with that arrangement.

Richter seemed to have acquired the ability to see right through me. It was something nobody had ever managed to do.

I can feel it. The darkness that swallowed her. Took her out of the light.

I glanced to my left to ensure the man attacking Leah and the figure hiding behind the tree weren’t one and the same. The dark figure was still there, watching everything unfold. Was that a golden shimmer I just saw from the shadow? It was tiny, almost as if it had come from his mouth. A gold tooth?

This man wasn’t a killer. He’d shattered women’s lives in other ways, stealing their confidence, their self-worth, their peace of mind, and, for some, their will to live. Wasn’t that a form of murder too?

I sighed, then rolled the Night Stalker over. Annoyed, I yanked down his pants and, in a few swift cuts, severed his penis.

LOL Well that's what I call justice at the end of a knife.

For the first time, I found myself wondering whether I was truly driven by a sense of justice when I hunted monsters. Or was it the thrill that kept me going?

“Well, who gets a gold star for this masterpiece?” Cowboy asked. “Chopped his dick right off. The doctors couldn’t reattach it. Apparently, there were fish in the fountain that nibbled on it for too long.”

LMAO. PS I kinda love Cowboy now.

“McCourt.” “What about him?” Luca asked. “Please, leave him alive. For now, he might be useful to me.”

Omg he lives? IDK why I assumed he died in the last one.

Leah and I locked eyes. She gave me a look—the one all women have when a man is being a complete idiot.

But I felt something else—something I couldn’t put a finger on. Or something I was too scared to think about.

“I think … she played that song for you,” she said, her brow furrowed in thought. “What makes you think that?” I asked. “The way she looked at you,”

McCourt was hailed as a hero by both the reds and blues in Congress. No FBI director had ever been elected so

I was dancing with the devil now, fully caught in the tango. And the thing about dancing with the devil was that once you started, you didn’t get to decide when the music stopped.

A chill ran through me as the stench of feces and death hit, along with the cold certainty that something dark was waiting below. I’d been right to come tonight. And I’d be right to end whatever this was.

Next to her was a large shelf containing several jars, each with a preserved human head inside it. All women, swollen and soaked from having sat in the solution for a long time. Their eyes, opened wide in horror, matched those of the woman chained to the wall. The agony of sitting here in this hell, all alone, in the dark, was unthinkable.

“I don’t need you to be afraid,” I said coldly, wiping the blood from my forehead. “I just need you to be in pain.”

This was a problem. A witness. But it was too late to worry about that now. This was the first time I’d ever saved a life before taking one, and I found a strange satisfaction in it. So much so that a warmth spread through my chest—a warmth that might have been happiness. Or maybe joy?

Surprisingly, she didn’t need time to think about it. “Kill him,” she spat as her gaze wandered to Carl on the floor. “Make it painful.”

“Thank you from the bottom of my heart,” she said, closing my hand around the cross. “I have two kids, and thanks to you, they still have a mom. Even if she’s now a broken one, they still have her.”

“Don’t eat turkey for a while.” “What? Goddamn—”

Lmao lmao she didnt

You’re not my kind. You’re a monster from pure darkness. I’m a monster walking in the light.”

it also feels pretty damn good, doesn’t it? Seeing Nathalie back home. Carl Carr gone. I know it’s wrong. And yet…” Rose’s gaze met mine. “It does feel pretty damn good.”

His piercing eyes locked onto mine, betraying a mix of shock and cold calculation.

“Ms. Nachtnebel, now that you’re here … maybe you’d like to enlighten us on how to solve this problem?” His voice oozed with condescension. He was trying to catch me off guard. To him, I was just a woman, out of my depth.

It’s basic math. Unlike music, which is more like child’s play with sounds—no real structure, no logic, just whatever feels good at the time.”

This idiot, of course music has structure. It even uses math priciples. Spoken like someone who's never played a note in his life.

Had I not known the monster he truly was, I might have found myself drawn to him.

He held my gaze without flinching. Unfazed and playful. Nobody ever did that except for Richter.

I’m not Anna. The world will care if I disappear. Jan Novak is powerful, but not even he can make a world-famous pianist disappear without a trace if a hungry FBI agent is on his heels. You’ll get him. If anybody can, it’s you, Richter. I have faith in you.”

For a split second, her hand lifted, reaching for my arm. Instinctively, I stepped back as if her touch might turn me into something else—something from which I could never return. She noticed, of course. Which only made it worse.

If he laid even a finger on her—if he so much as pulled a single strand of her hair—I’d shoot him. Literally, I would.

That’s the nature of human potential. It’s capable of both brilliance and horror.”

“If alcohol kills good people, I have nothing to worry about,” she joked. I couldn’t help but smile.

I was beginning to understand why Richter was so drawn to her. There was something about her—something that made you realize, almost instinctively, that she was different. Special.

“If you think your relationship with our mutual friend will impress me or make us allies, you’re wrong,” Luca said. “I’m aware of her odd fondness for you, but frankly, I neither understand nor share it.” I sat down across from him. “Good. Because, frankly, I don’t understand or share her fondness for you. But I’m not here for myself. I’m here for her.

“I’m … planning to arrest him.” A sudden, deep laugh erupted from Luca. “Jan Novak? Absurd. You might as well try to arrest the president.” “If the president turns out to be a serial killer as well, I just might do that,” I said.

something more powerful than kings and queens has formed in this world. Social media. A direct voice to the people. If you gather enough of us, even kings have to care about the laws again.”

What exactly are you after tonight?” The scar from a skin graft, I almost said but stopped before I had to explain how I planned to get that information from him.

Without warning, he pulled out his phone and snapped a photo of us. The flash momentarily blinded Novak. “For the album,” Richter added with a smirk. “Uh-oh. Caught you mid-blink.”

Lmao! This made me laugh out loud.

A chill ran down my spine. Mushroom risotto was the first meal I’d ever shared with Emanuel. Was this just a coincidence?

This—between the fireplace and the dancing—was headed in only one direction, and I wasn’t going to stop it. Talking had gotten us nowhere.

“A parting gift from my father,” he continued calmly. “When I tried to stop him from stabbing my mother. One of many times, unfortunately.” I looked into his eyes. For the first time, I saw something. There were feelings there, flickering in the depths. Jan wasn’t dead inside like I was. He was a monster but one who could still feel.

Jan groaned, gripping my hips and pulling me closer. I was about to give in, ready to let it happen, when thoughts of Richter flashed through my mind. Guilt hit me like a truck, mixing with the shame that finally, finally washed over me. I felt something. At least for Richter, if not for myself or Emanuel.

Instead I’d left with more questions than I could count. Questions like why I still couldn’t see the monster in him. Why his touch hadn’t repulsed me. Though it hadn’t made me feel warm and safe, either.

Trust? I’d never trusted anyone. Not even myself. But Richter… “I do,” I said, realizing in that moment that it was true.

‘no mission’ is a death sentence to our integrity,”

“If you want to walk out and save your career, I won’t hold it against you. Do it now before we get into the details. I get it. I have a kid who needs a roof over her head too. But remember, I called you because you can make a difference and more so because I trust you. And I trust that when Novak’s pile of bodies keeps growing, you’ll regret not doing everything you could to stop him.

This is such a steve rogers coded speech and I love it

“The source will take over the contract from the current catering service with an offer they can’t refuse.” I almost laughed at the irony of Rose using those words on a mission involving a mob boss.

LOL She couldn't resist