Page 36 of Craving Darkness
She opened her mouth, and as she spoke, what she said came out melodic. “You don’t want to hurt me, Valen. I’m your best friend and want to be so much more. You want to be more, too.”
I could feel her words burrow into my skull and try to dig their way into my brain. It somehow hurt like a piercing dagger and felt soothing, like a caress at the same time. I chuckled.
“Did you forget I have a mate, Syn? Though, even if I didn’t, I doubt you would have any effect on me anyway. Nice try, though.” I held up my free hand and waved my fingers toward her in a come hither motion. “Let’s get this over with. I have a mate to rescue and the rest of eternity to spend with her in my arms.”
Her face twisted in a vicious snarl that I could see being the cause of nightmares for hundreds of sailors. I expected an attack, but I hadn’t anticipated how quickly she could move out of the water. She lunged forward with her claws extended, aiming for my throat. I side-stepped with plenty of time. She may be fast and have built-in weapons, but I had experience on my side.
I spun around, slicing the dagger through the air. At the heavy thud of her body falling to the ground, her scream of pain and outrage had the unexpected effect of making me want to claw out my own eardrums. Perhaps it was another weapon in the Siren’s arsenal. I shook my head to rid myself of the lingering effects.
While Syn lay there clutching at her bleeding belly, I took the chance to look back at Crispin and his vampires. They were watching in fascination while Crispin had his arms crossed, watching with a critical eye.
“Are you critiquing me?” I asked in disbelief.
He merely shrugged. “I wanted to see if you’ve lost your touch.” He waved a hand toward the bleeding Siren. “You’re doing well so far, though you’ve barely gotten started. Carry on.”
“Arrogant bastard,” I huffed out, then turned to walk back to Syn. She looked up at me with tears in her strangely shaped eyes. I had a moment of pity for the woman I had actually liked once upon a time, before I learned about the monster inside her that she had hidden so well. Or maybe I hadn’t wanted to see it back then.
A large part of me regretted what I was about to do. Instead of allowing that useless emotion to keep me from following through, I focused all my attention on the fight in front of me. I reached down to haul Syn up, her heavy weight making it more of an effort than expected. I tightened my grasp on her dark hair, exposing her neck.
Just as I was about to plunge the knife into her neck, her demeanor changed from the one of hurt, weak prey to a vicious monster. Her claws swiped out, catching my side. I sucked in a breath at the instant pain that flared hotly from the wound. I didn’t bother to look down at it; it was deep, and I could feel the way my blood was already running freely down my side. Knowing that regardless of how such a wound would have killed a mortal, I pressed on. I would heal quickly enough to finish this fight.
She wriggled then with so much effort I couldn’t maintain a grip on her hair. Her body twisted and writhed, truly giving the appearance of a fish on a hook. As the hair I was holding tangled in my grasp, I could feel strands of it breaking at the root. If she continued her actions, she was going to have quite a large bald spot.
I bared my teeth at her, showing who was the biggest predator in the room, but she chose to ignore me, her only focus being her attempts to get away. Unfortunately, with her wild twisting, I was having trouble trying to aim properly with the knife. I arced the blade down, aiming for her chest. She seemed to sense my intention because she focused back on stopping me from stabbing her, forgetting her fight to get loose for a brief moment.
This time, when she swiped her claws at me, it was with the intention of severing my arm from my body. I dropped her hair at the final second and jumped back out of reach, but she’d still managed to leave deep groves in my forearm. I bent to grab her again. Perhaps I would just slice her through the way she seemed determined to do to me. Before I could follow through, she lunged as fast as a cobra.
Those razor sharp serrated teeth dug deep as Syn sank them into my thigh. I ground my jaw against the pain and used her distraction to my advantage. With her mouth firmly attached to my thigh, doing her best to take a chunk from my flesh, I gripped the knife tightly and, without hesitation, plunged it to the hilt straight into her heart. At least, I hoped it was where her heart was. There is no telling with demons in their natural forms. Her heart could have been in her tail for all I knew.
With a pained gasp, Syn finally released me. She dropped back to the floor, lying on her side, and panted. I watched her carefully, not trusting her to fake another injury. As I watched her face, her slitted pupils wide with pain and disbelief, I twisted the knife, intending to cause as much damage to her organ as I could.
She jolted as I withdrew the knife covered in dark purple blood. I shifted my gaze from the knife back to her face and watched as that same dark purple began to pour from her mouth. Her body spasmed, and she coughed, causing the blood to spray over the floor and her own body. She moved her lips, attempting to speak. I doubted there was anything that she could say that I wanted to hear. She’s already said enough.
“L-love,” she paused to cough again before continuing to struggle to get her final words out. “You.”
I shook my head, sadness filling me. “Love isn’t like this, Syn. Love is accepting the person for what and who they are and wanting them to be happy.”
Knowing I needed to finish her death and ensure it was one she couldn’t recover from, I slid the knife across her neck. I kept slicing, digging the blade in until finally, her head rolled away from her body.
I stood to my feet and limped toward the door separating her office from the rest of the club.
“I’m going to get my jacket. I hope someone grabbed my motorcycle.”
Chapter 25
Kallista
Isat on the end of the bed, my hands folded primly in my lap as I stared down at the beige carpet. At any moment, somebody would be arriving to escort me to the dinner my parents were having for a few of their friends. It was a common occurrence, one I should have expected. I guess I hadn’t thought they’d have a dinner party the day after they forced me back home.
I’d slept horribly, tossing and turning in the starched white sheets. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw visions of Valen the way he’d been when he smiled down at me or imagined the way his wings had felt under my fingertips. I clench my hand into a tight fist as if I could hold onto that sensation and never let it go.
I glanced at the window, considering, again, if I could escape through it. Unfortunately, I was on the second story. There was a concrete pad under my window, and guards had been posted nearby, easily spotted. Each time I’d wandered over to the window, I could see at least one, sometimes two, making a pass. There was always one holding the leash of a large dog. I wasn’t stupid enough to think it was possible to outrun a trained guard dog.
I closed my eyes as hopelessness swamped my heart. If I were to escape on my own, my one and only chance would be to use the ability that had terrified me ever since I was a young girl when I’d lost control and nearly brought the house down. It frightened me. The thought of what could happen, the people I could kill. I could even hurt myself. It wasn’t as if I could control the damage done.
My eyes opened, and I stared blankly at the wall as I remembered something Valen had said. After we’d sealed our bond, he’d told me that he could feel a difference in his abilities. He was no longer afraid that they would get out of control. He’d said he was stronger and implied that I was, too. Could it be true? Could I really control the damage I caused?
The sound of the key turning in the lock jarred me from my musings, and I jerked my head in the direction of the bedroom door. As soon as the door had swung open and I saw my mother standing there, I stood to my feet, nervously smoothing the pantsuit, hoping I hadn’t caused it to wrinkle. The very last thing I wanted at that moment was to enrage my mother by not being perfect.