Page 54 of Insurrection
The other half of me wanted to punch him in the throat every time he acted like he could tell me who I could and could not be around. Right after the fucker admitted that the biggest shame of my life, which had permanently impacted how I viewed myself, was a fucking lie.
Rage coursed through me at the memory. I needed a bath to calm down. Some zen time. That was the clear answer to this. An uninterrupted bath this time. Away from all of them to clear my head and emotions without them breathing down my neck—or licking it, in Damien's case. A shiver ran through me at the memory as I reached back to undo the clasp at the top of my dress.
As I struggled with it, I grumbled quietly, "Damnit, this was not a good time to make a stand for my independence. Can't even get myself out of this damn thing."
“Here, let me help you,” a rough voice that I didn’t recognize whispered into my ear.
What the hell?
My blood chilled at the venom in his voice, and as I went to scream for help, a cloth was clamped over my mouth, muffling my attempt.
His other arm clamped around my chest from behind, holding me in a vice-like grip as I struggled to get away. Kicking back with my feet, wishing I still had my heels on now to hurt him, I heard him let out a grunt. He increased the pressure on my mouth as he muttered, "Relax, bitch."
I would not relax,bitch.
Calling my scythe to me, ready to cut this fucker's head from his body, I whimpered as my brain began to feel foggy. My powers felt like they were just out of reach, on the other side of a wall.
Fuck.Think, Ama.
I was getting drowsier by the second, and my limbs began to feel impossibly heavy.
Limbs! Wings!
Focusing hard, I peeled off the glamour I had on my wings and snapped them out, hitting him square in the face. The tips were razor sharp, and I knew they nicked him because his grip on me loosened enough for me to jump away.
His voice was rough as he growled, "If you won't go quietly, then the boss said it was okay to kill you. You just made your own death sentence, little girl."
"Didn't anyone tell you? I'm Death's daughter," I seethed, rage funneling through me, burning out whatever chemical he’d used on me. His large frame was hunched, one hand cupping the wound on his cheek, which was steadily seeping blood that coated his fingers and dripped to the floor.
Disgust flared in his eyes, and I snarled at him. I would not let this motherfucker take me out.
Sucking in deep, steadying breaths, I allowed myself to act on instinct. I was still blocked from my scythe, and that left me with only one other option. While I hadn't used that side of me enough to quite understand how it worked, I knew I needed to trust that it was a part of me and would protect me.
I couldn't immediately tell the species of this man, and that made this all the more dangerous. His eyes were shadowed by the black hair hanging over his eyes, which were typically the easiest way to figure out what house someone belonged to. I didn't know what to look out for attack wise in order to defend myself properly. I'd need to finish this quickly.
A glimmer of silver flashed in his hand under the bedroom lights seconds before he lunged for me. Dropping into a crouch, I used my wings to launch myself into the air as his hand shot forward, knife ready to make me bleed.
He growled in annoyance as I moved quickly, rolling forward in the air and dropping down behind him. Wrapping my hands around his throat, I let my Succubus powers roll off me in waves—the first time I had ever allowed myself to feel it coursing through me.
It was a heady feeling—or maybe that was the chloroform he’d used.
Just as he prepared to jab at me blindly with the knife, my power engulfed him. I saw the pink and red twining of my energy seeping into him the second the knife dropped from his fingers, and he went slack in my hands. I pushed more power into him, needing him to be completely immobile while I grabbed the knife from the ground.
I wasn't quite sure how this worked, but I imbued my energy with the thought that I wanted him to picture what he desired the most for pleasure.
He groaned and moved his hand to what I imagined was his crotch. I gagged at the thought but knew he was in a deep enough lustful trance now. Slowly removing my hands from him, I took a testing step to the side before quickly bending to grab the knife.
The hilt was warm in my hand, and I contemplated what to do with the stranger now. My adrenaline was wearing off, and my body felt like I was possibly going into shock.
An attempted kidnapping, turned failed assassination.
The man was unzipping his black jeans and moved to fondle himself, in utter bliss.Gross. So freakin’ gross.His eyes were now clear to me. Purple. Like Finias' eyes, which I loved so much. This man was a Dark Elf. Looking more closely at his hair, I could now make out that it had been a rushed dye job. There were patches where the dye hadn't stuck as well to the typical white color of House of Runes.
Knowing that the king and queen of the House of Runes abused Finias, along with the information from Adrien about them killing those who’d stood in their way of the throne, I wasn't even surprised.
My mind began to whirl as pieces clicked into place. The way the guys had acted had been way more than a typical spat. It was as if they had been influenced subtly to act so barbarically. I had no doubt that the things they’d said were true, there had been too much conviction in their words for it to be otherwise, but would they have said them without influence? Would they have been so aggressive without influence? I didn’t think so. Combined with the Incubus who had been at the top of the stairs, as if looking out for me, and now a Dark Elf assassin, it was clear what was occurring.
These Houses had to be working together to make moves. Huffing out loud, I mused, "Because of course they'd work together. They’re the only ones bloodthirsty enough to kill for the positions they hold now."
