Page 56 of Killer of the Bells
Fawn nodded, tears streaming down his cheeks, and Asher stammered, “Y-yes, my l-lord.”
“I am not your lord,” I snapped. I never wanted to be one as a human, and I never would be, regardless of what I’d turned into.
“Yes, sir!” Asher corrected. He hissed as his clothing began to smolder, but he did nothing to put it out. He’d clearly been in a similar position before and knew his job was to suffer until told otherwise.
“Good,” I said, and I took a step backward to allow them some respite from the heat of my anger.
“Tomorrow, don’t let Echo reach the top. Make the game good for him. Make it fun. Let him do anything he wants as long as neither he nor anyone else makes it to the bells. And whatever you do…” I trailed off and gestured for one of them to finish for me.
“Don’t let him get hurt,” Fawn said like a good little lackey.
“Excellent.”
I dropped a small vial on the ground next to Mavolyn’s twitching body. His fae nature would heal him sooner or later, but the contents of the vial would speed up the process considerably.
“Take it,” I ordered. I’d wanted to teach him a lesson, but I still needed him to be useful during the next hunt.
Mavolyn made an incoherent noise I interpreted as an affirmative.
“Follow my instruction and you’ll all live to irritate people for far longer than you have any right to. I’ll see myself out of your lovely… home,” I added, raising an eyebrow in distaste at their living situation.
They didn’t have to live that way. They had enough power to glamor their way to a respectable way of life, but Mavolyn and his gang were doing the fae equivalent of cosplaying as humans. They were clearly in their retro ‘80s hobo era, and I found it utterly repulsive.
The idea of one of them touching Echo with their filthy hands almost made me decide to burn their little hovel to the ground, but I held back. If I killed all of them out of anger, there would be no one left to get out the message about not hurting Echo.
All fae had already been told not to hurt him, but having an object lesson on why would drive the point home. As I walked away, I wondered if they’d understood that not touching Echo was included in not hurting him.
If not, we’d be having another conversation tomorrow.
I pulled out my phone and checked an item off my to-do list before making my way to Echo’s apartment.
He was at an eleven o’clock lecture and wouldn’t be home until at least three p.m., so I had plenty of time to nap in his bed. It would check off three items on my list in one go: calming down my monster, dampening the effect of the bells, and making Echo get used to my scent.
Human brains were funny things. Smell was a powerful sense memory, and if I could get Echo to equate my scent with something good, like sleeping, he would likely react more favorably to me as time went on.
I assume people like sleeping. It’s certainly one of my favorite things to do.
I entered Echo’s apartment using the spare keys I’d made before returning his car with his keys. Once inside, I checked his refrigerator, nodding in approval to see he’d eaten some of the food I’d sent him. I also noticed the pack of cigarettes on his coffee table had gone untouched since the day before.
These were signs affirming my hypothesis that Echo craved reasons to live more than he did ways to die. I would give him more reasons than anyone had. I would give Echo everything.
I laid my jacket on his couch, put my boots by his door, then made my way to his bed to curl up under his covers for a nap. I set my phone to go off in two hours, though the bells would likely wake me up anyway.
Echo’s energy seemed to act like a protective field around me, keeping the bells from destroying my peace of mind. Yesterday, I’d discovered that being in his bed allowed me better rest than my soundproofed lab ever had, so until I could sleep with Echo again, sleeping in his bed was the next best thing.
After waking, I felt better than I had since waking up with Echo’s pillow repeatedly hitting me in the face.
I smirked at the memory.
I didn’t know when I would see him again. It could be days or weeks. All I knew was that when the time was right, I would make my move, and Echo would be mine.
I gave Echo’s apartment a quick sweep to make sure it was left completely undisturbed, then I left, patting the spare key in my pocket as I went.
Would I truly last a week? My control when it came to Echo was highly suspect. Both times I’d bitten him had seemed out of the blue at the time, but in hindsight, I’d placed myself in situations all but guaranteed to result in feeding on Echo.
Tasting his blood without thinking on the night we’d met? At no point in my life had I ever done such a thing. Accidentally raging out and killing an innocent person, yes, but who hasn’t? Everyone makes a few small mistakes when they’re young, and I’m hardly an exception.
Had I chosen to stay away from Echo for his own good or mine?
