Page 197 of Spoils of war
“Will?” My voice came out thin. “Aran? Please wake up.” I whispered.
A shadow slid across the floor. The man in the suit stepped into the room like he owned the world, his shoes clicking against the wood. He crouched in front of Aran, fingers clamping his face, tilting it upward.
Aran’s eyelids flickered.
“Yes,Aran,” the man said. “Wake up. Wouldn’t want you to miss this.”
“Get your hands off him!” I roared, jerking against the ropes until pain shot up my arms, fibers tearing into my skin.
He didn’t even look at me. He stood, adjusted his cufflinks, and turned to Will.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You thought paying for the night meant she belonged to you. That she was yours to keep.”
Will looked up at him, bloody and stubborn, lips twitching just barely.
“I misunderstood,” he rasped.
The man’s boot drove into his stomach, the force knocking Will sideways, held up only by the rope.
“STOP!” I cried out. “Please! Don’t hurt him—don’t hurt them! It was my idea—”
“Kera, no!” Will coughed. “Don’t.”
Finally, the man turned to me. His eyes locked on mine, dark and calm and cold. He crossed the room, grabbed me by the throat, and yanked me up onto my knees.
“They’re already dead, sweetheart,” he said softly, fingers tightening until black spots crawled into the edges of my vision. “Can’thave people stealing from me without consequence. That’s bad business. I’m sure you understand.”
My lungs screamed, and my wrists twisted against the ropes, raw and useless.
Behind him, one of the guards spoke. “The one with dark hair sold her to us. Now he’s helping her get out. They’re running a scheme, sir.”
The man tilted his head but didn’t bother looking at the guard. “Is that true, girl?” he asked, voice almost curious. “Are you trying to swindle me?”
I didn’t answer.
“I’ll show you what I do with thieves. Then I’ll make use of you. Make you earn your keep.”
“Fuck you,” I spat.
“Careful,” he murmured. “I might just keep you for myself. I like a girl who puts up a fight. It makes it sweeter when she starts begging.” His mouth twitched into something almost amused. “Though I still wonder... what’s she doing here?” His voice slid through the air like oil, mocking, poisoned. Just when I thought I’d pass out again, he dropped me to the floor.
He walked over to Licia and crouched beside her. She didn’t move or cry, just stared past him with eyes blank, as if her soul had already left her body.
“Were you trying to escape?” he murmured. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife, not fast, not like a threat. Slow. Like a promise. “There is no escape. Not for you. Not for her,” he said. “You. Belong. To. Me. And that means I can do whatever I want with you.”
He pressed the blade to her chest, dragging it down, not deep, just enough to make her flinch, enough to break the skin, making blood well to the surface.
“From the looks of it, I’ve already made good use of you,” he said. “Maybe it’s time I put you down.”
“NO! NO, PLEASE, DON’T TOUCH HER!” The scream ripped out of me, raw and jagged, tearing something open on its way out. My throat felt like it split. My whole body convulsed with the force of it, and I could feel it rising, the poison inside me, thick and burning and alive.
I just had to trigger it.
Themonster.
The fire.
I looked at Licia. At the man at her throat. At Will. At Aran. I wasn’t even sure if he was still breathing. But when I saw his face, a memory struck me like a spark catching dry wood, and his voice echoed in my head:It’s there, Kera. It’s all in you. Maybe you just need to stop running from it. Picture it. Feel it.
