“Yes. Just tell me.” He says with attitude.
“Not how this is going to work.” I grind out.
I slap him across the face as hard as I can, making my own hand throb. His head is whipping to the side from the blow. It might seem harsh, but I know Holder. He turns back to face me with heat in his eyes and blood dripping from his busted lip.
“Sorry, Mistress.” He says while lowering his eyes in submission. I stroke up his cheek with the side of my hand and push his hair back out of his face before kissing him hard on the mouth and tasting his coppery blood, licking off the last beaded up drop pooling on his swollen lower lip.
“You're forgiven. Now, look at me, Holder.” I order while pulling his face up to meet me. “I’m going to give this next bit of information to you straight. Richard has taken Winnie away by force. He has her in Miami, and we are going to get her back.” The whites of his eyes showing more as his eyes seem larger from the shock. I can feel his heart thundering in his chest. His demons are digging their way to the surface, and fast.
“Holder, we’re going to get information now, and then we’ll be on the plane to get her. You have to stay with us, though. You have to be in control.” His eyes flicker between me and Clint, who is whispering into his phone as his fingers dig into my waist; he trying to hold on to reality.
“You can talk to me, Holder. If you want me to stay in control, I will. If you can handle this, I will back off and let you handle it. Just stay with me.” I almost beg while holding his face in my hands, grounding him to me. His eyes are wild, and I can feel him fighting the urge to let his blood lust take over. It feels like hours, but his pulse starts to thrum more evenly under my fingers, and his eyes settle to the hard-calculating man I saw the night we killed Chuck and Jimmy. He’s with me… for now.
“Where are we going now, Mistress?” He asks with a monotone voice. He is a machine now. Pushing all emotions to the back of his mind and focusing on the job at hand.
“We need to pay Dante a visit.”
Chapter Thirteen: Holder
I feel like my brain is melting. I have never wanted to hurt someone as much as I do right now. I know logically that Mistress is right. That's why I'm giving her this control. I can't think this way logically. So, I'll do what she says.
"We're here." Clint almost whispers like the guards in front of the night club can hear us in the car. He drives past the entrance and pulls to the alley across from the rear of the building. Some big men in tight-fitting suits, are guarding the back door. I don't care how big they are. When Mistress gives the word, I will tear them apart. I feel my dick jerk in my pants just thinking of their flesh ripping under my hands.
"I'll go up first and distract them. Y'all come up the sides." She instructs before flouncing off in the direction of the guards with her hands in her pockets. I look to Clint and nod my head to the right. He gives me a quick nod in answer before slinking off into the alley's inky shadows on the left. He can be a scary fucker when he wants to be. He wants Blue to see him as the hero and not the blood-stained killer he is. That's okay. If my brother wants to hide his darkness while I embrace mine- that's his cross to bear.
I make my way through the dark quietly. Keeping my eyes on the guards as their attention is solely focused on the sexy demon that's twirling pink hair around her finger. She is the perfect killing machine. She looks sweet, innocent, and tempting, but I know the dark hiding under all the pink and ink. Yep, my Mistress would rip out their hearts and drink her whiskey from their skulls if given enough time.
"So, you see, I was on Bourbon with my girlfriends. Bachelorette weekend! Shots and all that jazz. Then I got turned around. Can y'all help me?" She is putting on a good act of being the drunk helpless girl. She even hiccups to punctuate her sentence. The big burly men look at each other before smiling down at the wolf in sheep's clothing. Their eyes roaming over her body, like it's a feast just for them, makes my blood boil even more.
"Well, hello there; I think we can help you." While running his hand over her collarbone towards the valley between her breasts, the one on the right answers. "If you help us first."
"Which cock you want in that tight little ass first?" The other finishes while walking around to her back and putting his hands on her shoulders. He doesn't know it yet, but he has given me the perfect position and motivation to end his miserable life.
"Oh, y'all want this ass? It is a nice ass, isn't it?" She says, batting her eyelashes and pulling the dress tight against her backside. I'm a little caught up looking at her rounded ass in the dress myself. When she punches the goon in front of her, blood sprays out of his face. I have to scramble to jump the guy at her back, before he realizes what's going on.
I wrap an arm around his throat to cut off his air before shoving the knife I had hidden on my leg into his eye. I keep pushing until I feel the give of brain matter. It wouldn't kill him right away, but it will cause dysfunction of speech. His injury gives me enough time to kick his knees out, dropping him to the ground and shoving the blade as far as it will reach into his skull.
My heartbeat starts to come down, and the drumming in my ears isn't quite as loud. So, it's easier to hear the gurgling and squishing sounds coming from behind me. Turning, I find my Mistress straddling the big guy that she was facing.
I don't know if I've ever been this turned on in all my life. She is punching his face, even though it's not much of a face anymore. I forgot about her studded brass knuckles that she was keeping in her pocket. I guess dress pockets do come in handy.
Her breaths are coming out in angered puffs, as she starts to slow her hits. Clint is standing over them with his pants pulled tight over his hardening dick. I'm not the only one that finds our blood covered demon a turn on. She finally stops punching and goes to stand up, but wobbles a bit. Clint steadies her by the arm as she uses her blood cover hands to push her hair out of her eyes.
"He is still fucking alive? Dude, die already! You're making me feel like less of a badass." She says, looking at us with wide eyes. "Did y'all bring a gun? Anything?" She asks, exasperated. "Never mind, I'll do it." She growls before I can retrieve my knife from the skull, it's still settled in.
Stomping toward the building, she comes back with a steel plumbing pipe. She looks like a fucking fallen angel standing over the body with blood covering her face, tits and hands. Raising the pipe over her head, she tries to blow the blood-soaked hair out of her face, but it's too heavy to move. "Clint, honey, can you please …" She says, smiling sweetly in his direction. Jumping to action, he pushes the hair out of her face. "Thank you." She chirps right before she brings the pipe flying down into what is left of the poor guy's face. He really thought he would take advantage of my Mistress.
Blood splatter and brain matter goes flying and paints us. Her smile widens, and her eyes sparkle as she looks at me through the blood dripping off her forehead. My Mistress. The only woman that will ever understand my need for blood and match me drop for drop.
Fuck I'm a lucky bastard.
__________
"Well, I say we have maybe fifteen minutes tops before someone comes out that door for a shift change on the hour," Clint says, panting. Still, with a cheeky grin, he looks between Blue and I. Apparently, that look was enough because Blue grabs Clint by the tie and pulls him to her. Their mouths devouring each other as Clint backs her up against the big back industrial dumpster on the other side of the rear exit door, unzipping his pants as he goes.