Page 52 of Fangs & Freaks
Before any of them can react, she’s on the man who spoke, her fingers tightening around his throat like a vise.
I watch, curious, as her fist punches straight through his chest, pulling his heart out like a child ripping the stuffing from a stuffed bear.
The others are stunned, frozen in disbelief.
“What the fuck?” one whispers.
Bellonna lets the heart fall, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. “He was rude.”
“Who are you?” someone whispers.
“Bloody Mary is the name, and killing Obsidian Circle members is my game.”
One of the men stammers, his fear turning to rage. “You’re not real. They told us?—”
“Oh, I’m very real,” she interrupts, cutting him off with the venom of a snake. “This is getting boring. Give me the girl or suffer the same fate as heartless over there.”
They let go of Vienna and she rushes past Bellonna into my arms, her body pressed against mine as I wrap my arms around her protectively. “We got you,” I whisper as I pull her closer while ripping the rope off her wrists.
She says nothing, but I can feel her body relax, her shoulders lifting in a silent exhale.
Bellonna sings songs, “Oh, boys.” The men look at her. “I’m a liar.” In an instant, she’s on one of them. Her hands move like lightning, snapping his neck in one brutal twist.
And just like that, the third man, still trembling, doesn’t even have a chance to scream as she’s already in front of him, her hands grabbing him by the head and lifting him effortlessly offthe ground. With a twist, she tears his head from his shoulders as if it were a rag doll.
Bellonna is a hurricane of violence and beauty, and I can’t help but watch, transfixed.
“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” I hear a voice behind me.
I turn, not surprised to see Blackwell leaning casually against the doorframe, his body splattered in blood, his hand cupping his cock through his pants. There’s a gleam in his eye, one that mirrors my own—a dark amusement, the kind that only comes from shared chaos.
I raise an eyebrow, my lips curling into a half-smile. “Did you have to make such a mess?”
Blackwell shrugs nonchalantly, his gaze flicking toward the carnage Bellonna’s left in her wake. “Mess is just part of the fun. You know that.”
I chuckle, wiping the blood from my hands onto the nearest cloth. “And yet, you’re always the one complaining about cleaning up afterward.”
He grins, stepping into the room. “Somebody has to be the responsible one, right? You’re too busy enjoying the show.”
“Enjoying the show?” I scoff, glancing back at Bellonna, who’s still standing amidst the bodies like some goddess of death. “I wouldn’t say enjoying. More like… appreciating the artistry.”
“Artistry?” Blackwell tilts his head, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Is that what we’re calling it now? I always thought ‘slaughter’ had a certain ring to it.”
I laugh, feeling the familiar sense of camaraderie between us settle in. Even in the midst of a massacre, there’s no one I’d rather have by my side than him. He’s a bastard, sure, but he’s my bastard of a best friend. And that makes all the difference.
Chapter Thirty
Blackwell
“So that’s it?Everyone’s dead? Doesn’t seem fair.” I pout at Bellonna, letting my lips curve into an exaggerated sulk while my eyes glisten with fake tears. “Really, it’s not fair. You got to do most of the killing.” I stick out my right arm and push my stomach forward, displaying the clean patches on my outfit. “See? I still have spots not stained with Obsidian blood. That’s just not right.”
I dip my head slightly, fighting the urge to laugh as she shakes her head, her striking features shadowed with exasperation. Gorgeous and terrifying—a dangerous combination.
Her focus shifts to Warrick, her voice all business. “Take Vienna to your clubhouse and get her checked out. Make sure they didn’t cause her any harm—nothing permanent. Do it thoroughly, Warrick. For Varys’ sake, head to toe, nothing goes unchecked or tested.”
Vienna’s voice barely rises above a whisper, her arms hugging herself tightly, a fragile attempt to shield her from thecarnage in the room. “They didn’t… not yet, anyway. They were saving me, they said.”
Her words are brittle, like the edges of a cracked vase, but there’s a quiet relief in them. Her captors are gone, and they didn’t have a chance to violate her in a way that would leave lasting memories. No one will touch her again—not now that she’s under Bloody Mary’s protection. Only a fool would try, and fools who tangle with Bellonna don’t live long enough to regret it.
