“Tell me, Derrin, has anyone actually ever wanted you without the magic? You’re pretty and all, but I can smell your rotten soul from here,” I muse, sipping on my drink.
His face clenches in anger as he leaps to his feet, his gaze going to Griffin. “How dare she speak to me like that! Bring her here, now!” he orders.
I flick my fingers and the incubus flies back onto the bed as I step closer. “I told you, he’s mine. You do not get to order him around, you do not even get to look at him, understood?” I snarl.
He fights my hold, thrashing on the bed, so I drain my drink and stop at the foot of the mattress, staring down at him. He stops fighting and glares at me. “Who are you?”
“No one to you, just a woman. A woman whose mate you touched,” I reply, and he growls, his eyes trying to slide to Griffin. “Yes, him, and I don’t take too kindly to what you did.” Leaning down, I grip his chin, forcing him to stare into my pitch-black eyes. “You think you can hurt people? Force them to want you? To do whatever you want with no consequences? You think forcing them with your power means they want you because they can’t resist or say no? You are a fucking parasite, a fucking rapist wanker hiding behind his title and power. You touched him. You hurt him. You will pay for that.”
His eyes widen, even as his bravery and power resurface, his expression wiping clear until I see the reason he’s part of the council. He might not be the smartest, but he is powerful. It knocks me back a step as he gets to his knees on the bed, his eyes flaring with it. I laugh in the face of his power and leap at him.
He doesn’t expect it, they never do. Not when faced with a small blonde. They don’t cower or hide, but they should. I pin him to the bed as he gapes, my legs on either side of his stomach as I lower my head and lick a line across his cheek. “You taste like sex. I wonder if your blood tastes the same...do you still bleed red or is that rotten as well?”
“Get off me! They will kill you for this, I’m a council member!” he yells, making me giggle as I lift my head to meet his eyes.
“Oh, I know, don’t worry, you will serve two purposes—a warning to them as well, since they fucked with the wrong monster.”
Ignoring his protests and swearing, I look over my shoulder to Griffin who is watching me. I feel his anger and hate towards the man, muddled with his need for me, his lust at seeing my monster come out to play. I extend my hand once again, this is his choice. Either way, Derrin dies, but if he wants revenge, wants to be a part of this, he can, whatever will help him.
He looks at my hand for a moment, indecision warring on his face before he steps forward once, and then again and again until his fingers touch mine. I grip him and pull him closer, and he comes willingly. Turning, we both look down at Derrin. “What do you say, baby? Should we torture him first or just rip him to pieces and fuck in the aftermath?”
“Make it hurt,” he growls, his eyes swirling with madness. “I want him to scream.”
Purring, I lean down to Derrin whose eyes are wide and flickering between us. He’s finally getting it. He’s not the predator in this room, I am. “You hear that? I can’t wait to see how he makes you scream.” I stroke across his face with my nails, cutting him as I go, making him hiss. “When he first met me, he tried to drop me from the sky to kill me and I’m his mate…I wonder what he’ll do to you, his enemy?”
He starts to struggle again, emitting feeble attempts at power. “You will pay for this, fallen, the council will finally kill you!”
“They can try.” Griffin shrugs, dropping a kiss to my shoulder and making me shiver. “They won’t be living past dawn, so I’m not too worried. Before the day is through, I’ll be wearing all of your blood for what you did to me and mine,” he growls, his madness leaking out. It pushes into my head, infecting me with it. It’s addictive, so freeing and yet powerful. They did this, they created us both.
Two abominations, never meant to live, and now we’re here to end them.
They birthed their own deaths.
Derrin stops struggling and watches me, his eyes narrowed in anger. “Then get on with it already, you are boring me,” he snaps, his voice filled with false bravado.
“Boring you?” I purr, leaning down. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” I murmur, almost pressing my lips to his. I feel the need to consume his power, but I won’t. I refuse to drain this man or wear his skin, his power and vile, rotting soul dies with him.
I feel it call to me, the seductive edge, and it only makes me angrier. This man did that to my mate, forced him, and now I will force him to feel every ounce of pain he can before he dies. Slashing my claw-tipped hands down his chest, I watch the blood well as he screams, his eyes slamming shut as he jerks beneath me. Licking my lips, I watch the crimson liquid slither down his side and drop to the sheets below him. They start to stitch together so I drag my nails back down the same wounds, digging them deeper, almost slicing him open.
He howls in pain, bucking and kicking, and between his screams, he swears at me in French. I let him calm until he’s still on the bed, his chest heaving as he pants, his eyes narrowed in pain and anger as I look at my handiwork. Tracing one, black-tipped nail down his torso, I stop above his cock. “What do you say, Derrin? They used to cut these off for less, shall we?”
He shakes his head, his eyes wild as blood pumps steadily from his cuts. “Baby, do me a favour,” I address Griffin. “Heat me a knife, we wouldn’t want him to die before we have had our fun.”
Griffin slips away as I keep my hand there, digging into the soft skin of his stomach and making him whimper. “Not so strong now, are you, little incubus?”
“Fuck you!” he screams.
“Real original, no thanks,” I purr, just as Griffin comes back, holding a large, glowing knife in his hand. Turning back to Derrin, I know my smile isn’t nice as I grab his cock and rip it from his body. He screams and then slumps, passing out as blood squirts across Griffin and me. I take the knife from my fallen and press it to his skin, the sizzle loud as it cauterises the flow. It wakes Derrin back up and he snivels, tears trailing down his face as I regard the bloodied cock still in my other hand.
“I have to say, it’s small. I thought as an incubus it would be bigger.” I laugh, but Griffin snarls and grabs my wrist, his eyes wild.
“You do not get to look at him, Vasculo,” he growls possessively.
Grinning, I toss the cock into the fire and turn back to Derrin to see him sobbing big, ugly cries with snot dripping from his nose onto his quivering lips. “Which hand did you touch him with?” I ask.
He shakes his head, whimpering, and I roar, “Which hand?”
He still doesn’t answer. “Fine, I’ll take both.”
Griffin grabs his right arm and presses it to the bed as I switch my grip on the knife. Humming to myself, I begin to cut through his wrist. He screams, the sound echoing around the room as I continue to cut through skin and then muscle, blood squirting at us in an arc before pumping steadily. I feel it dripping down my face and onto my lips, so I lick them clean, stopping for a second as I look at Derrin. “You taste like terror,” I inform him, then go back to cutting until his hand only hangs from an tendril of sinew and bone that I can’t get through. Sighing, I lean back, sad I couldn’t get it off.