AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Behind us, there’s a shuffling noise, and two men dressed in crimson robes with skulls covering their faces enter the room. Despite having their identities partially concealed, I don’t recognize either, and they lead in a third figure who has a black hood covering their face.
“Is this a fucking joke to you?” Ky spits. He’s still got one hand planted in the center of Ven’s chest and gun trained on Ivan gripped in the other.
I help Foxglove down off the altar. Not wanting her to be up there any longer than absolutely necessary, and drag her against my side. There’s a stabbing pain in my chest at how cold her skin feels; the way she’s numb beneath my arm. She’s locked away inside her own mind and doesn’t respond to my touch.
It’s exactly what I used to do in order to cope, too.
“The Anguis are aware of this man’s undue threats against Miss Noire.” Ivan pulls off the black hood, to reveal Miles Crane. His nose has been busted, and there’s dried blood coming from the corner of his purple lips. A rope gag is tied around his mouth. He stinks of methylated spirits and vomit.
“We do not take kindly to those who attempt to interfere in a Pledging ceremony for their own gain.” Ivan kicks out the man’s knees, and he slumps to the ground. His eyes are glazed over, and it’s obvious he’s only loosely aware of his surroundings. “We offer our humble apologies, Miss Noire, that this man threatened your life and those you are Pledged to.”
How dare this motherfucker try and manipulate this situation for his own gain. To act as if what he did two minutes ago wasn’t a gross violation in its own right? Crane absolutely deserves to be eliminated for what he did, but I’m seething with rage that Ivan is attempting to claim this as something the Anguis have done for her out of kindness.
They don’t give a shit. These people are only out for one thing, and that is power.
“Raven.” He snaps his fingers in the direction of Ven, and my jaw is clenched so tight I hear a pop. “If you would be so kind.”
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
This is what he wants. To use Ven in the worst way. Abusing him a little more, because the Anguis trained him to be the one who bloodied his hands on their behalf over and over.
Like some sort of robot, he steps past Ky, tearing the gun from his hands as he does so, and advances on the man knelt in front of the stone altar.
Raising the gun, he aims the barrel at the man’s forehead. There’s nothing but ice in his expression, as he stands there without saying a word.
Jesus Christ. I’ve got my girl damn near catatonic beneath my arm, and Ven in what looks to be a similar state. Ky is about to explode where he stands just off to my left, and I can’t even tell which way is up.
He lets the gun hang there in the air. Allowing the bruised and battered figure of Miles Crane time to slowly focus on the scene in front of him. Ven is giving him a moment to come to terms with the finality of these seconds. Before the gavel falls and justice is delivered when his skull is blown to pieces.
Ven casts a glance over to one side. Ghosting a look in our direction.
And that’s when I see it. I see it in every strained muscle in his neck and jaw, that he doesn’t want to be their monster-for-hire paraded on display. Obeying orders on command like the mindless servant they want him to be reduced to in her eyes.
Ven has been the executioner for the Anguis longer than any of us can remember, and this…this matters to him.
She matters to him.
It’s killing him to have her witness this stain forever marking his blood. The heart he lost a lifetime ago has found a way to struggle back to life, against all odds, and I know with every second his finger flexes against that trigger…he’s churning on the inside.
Because it’s exactly how I feel, too. Wondering if there’s any hope left for her to do anything except push both of us away once she catches a glimpse of what our blackened and bloody souls are truly capable of.
The gritty reality is that we’ve been raised by the foulest of the foul, and our insides are rotten. I can’t stop and think too long about what this girl might see whenever she looks at us. Is it three flawed men who have been bound up in circumstances beyond their control, or three beasts with nothing but bloodlust pumping hot and thick through their veins?
Ven doesn’t draw it out.
The moment is over in an instant. The double pop ripples around the room, and Miles Crane slumps to the floor. That shithead deserved to die, but not like this. Not when it’s under the command of Ivan Victore and the Anguis. It should have been the three of us hunting him down and taking our revenge in her name.
A swathe of ruby-red blood spills across the polished stone from the hole in his head, and I don’t hesitate a second longer.
I get my girl out of there.
All while praying that she’ll maybe one day look at me with anything but hatred in those blue eyes.
63
“That rat bastard. I’ll bury a hatchet in his chest and feed him to the pigs myself.”
I slam the door and pull Fox onto my lap so she can straddle me. There’s no way I’m going to survive this drive back to the safety of our home without having her this close.
