Zhian scoffed as his foot nudged the motionless body strewn out over the table, bruised and covered in blood. He cleaned off the sole of his designer shoe by scuffing it on the ground.
"She passed out somewhere between the third and fifth round." Benjamin Schutt, Richie's replacement in The Dreadful Six, shoved both hands in his pockets as he looked over Katarina's body with cold, lifeless eyes. "I'm surprised she held out so long."
"The bitch is more resilient than she looks." He flicked a zippo lighter to life and held it to his Cuban, puffing on it slowly as the tobacco caught flame and lit up. "Is she dead?"
Salem had two fingers pressed to the bruised skin of her neck, checking a watch on his wrist calmly as he tried to disguise the intense discomfort he felt every time he had to see her injuries in anything brighter than the glow of a kerosene lamp. "No, but her pulse is barely there."
"She can't go back underground, then."
