Page 22 of Princess of Vengeance

That cat is innocent and completely on its own, with nobody else to turn to and nobody else who cares enough to help her.

And goddammit, I understand that feeling right down to my core. I’ve been there and done that, and it’s a fucking shitty feeling.

My hands itch to crush something. To wrap around Imogen’s throat and squeeze until I feel her windpipe collapse beneath my fingers. To make her suffer the way she was willing to make Quinn suffer. The way she might have already made Princess suffer.

Fuck. I need to know if the cat is okay, but I can’t risk going back there. I can’t risk leading the Syndicate straight to us.

I know that. Logically, I fucking know that.

But logic doesn’t stop the images from coming. Princess waiting by her food bowl. Princess hiding under furniture as strangers invade her space. Princess trusting Imogen because she doesn’t know any better.

A growl tears from my throat, and I slam my fist into the wall. The impact sends a quick jolt of pain up my arm, but I barely feel it. Physical pain has never bothered me much. It’s just information, just the body’s way of saying something is wrong.

This other feeling, though? This helpless fucking rage? That bothers me.

I hear footsteps approaching, lighter than Nico’s or Atlas’s. My siren. Of course she followed me. She’s always had a talent for noticing when something is actually affecting me.

Part of me wants to tell her to leave. I’ll be perfectly capable of dealing with this shit on my own once I can get myself together and calm the fuck down. But I know she won’t. She’s as stubborn as I am. Fuck, maybe even more so.

I turn toward the door and pull my fist out of the wall, already knowing what I’ll see. Quinn will be standing there, those sharp gray eyes taking in every detail. Reading me like a book even though most people think I’m impossible to read.

She’s the only person who’s ever understood this part of me. She’s the only one who’s ever really gotten that I don’t feel nothing.

I just feel differently.

She’s there, watching me from the doorway, just like I knew she would be. But instead of flinching at the sight of a fist-sized hole in the wall, she just raises a brow.

“Planning on doing some renovations?” Her lips quirk up on one side. “Because I’ve gotta say, this place could really use some work.”

I shoot her a dark look that would send most people running, but Quinn isn’t like most people. She just meets my stare, seemingly unfazed by the violence radiating off me in waves.

Her presence usually calms me, but right now all I can think about is how ready Imogen was to kill her. How she didn’t even hesitate to drive that blade into Quinn’s body. And if she was willing to do that to a person who had been an ally just a few minutes before, what would stop her from hurting a defenseless animal?

My hands clench again, making me conscious of the blood trickling from my scraped knuckles. “I’m really not in the fucking mood, siren.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” She steps into the room, closing the door behind her. “What’s wrong?”

I start pacing again, unable to stay still with all this fucking anger and frustration coursing through my system. “Princess.”

“The cat?” Her brow furrows. “What about her?”

“We left her there.” The words come out like they’re being ripped from my throat. “She relied on us, and we just fucking left her. Yeah, we put out food and water, but that’s not…” I take a deep breath and then slowly exhale, but it doesn’t do much good. “Imogen has been there. Three fucking times.”

Understanding dawns in Quinn’s eyes. “You think she might have hurt Princess?”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t she? She was ready to gut you like a fish. Do you really think she’d have any problem killing a cat out of spite?” My fist clenches so hard that my knuckles go white. “Princess wouldn’t even know to run from her. She’d probably just walk right up to her, expecting to be petted, and Imogen would…”

I can’t finish the sentence and give voice to the images that are tormenting me. Instead, I slam my already bloody hand against the wall again, leaving a dark red smear on the dirty plaster.

“We were supposed to protect her.” The words come out rough. “She was innocent. Helpless. And we left her there.”

I don’t even try to stop myself from pacing again. It’s better than putting more holes in the wall, at least. “If she hurts her, if she touches one fucking hair on that cat’s head, I’ll peel the skin from her bones. I’ll make her beg for death before I’m done with her.”

Quinn steps directly into my path, her hands coming up to grip my arms. Anyone else who tried to stop me right now would lose their fucking hands, but with her… I let her hold me still, although my jaw stays clenched so tight it aches.

“Look at me,” she says firmly. When I do, her eyes are steady and full of understanding. Not judgment. Not dismissal. “I get why you’re worried. I wish we’d had time to find Princess a permanent home instead of leaving her there. But I honestly don’t think Imogen is going to kill her.”

A growl builds in my chest. “But you don’t know for sure.”

---