Snarling, she clenched her fists at her side. Reaching to the nearest shelf, she picked out the biggest book she could. It was a hefty, ancient, leather-bound thing. Perfect. Gripping it firmly, she stormed toward him. Villain or not. Demigod or not. She was going tobeat him into paper pulp.
“What? What did I say?” He took a step back away from her, hands raised. “Did you not want to talk things out? Do you not have anything to say? Or?—”
In a fury, she swung the book at his head. He simply dissipated into inky darkness, pooling on the floor like a shadow. She watched as it zipped behind her like he was being cast from some unseen projector, only to have him reform behind her.
Swinging at him again, she knew it was pointless. That wasn’twhat it was about, and it didn’t stop her angry scream as she attempted to knock his block off with the huge tome she’d grabbed.
That time, he just stepped out of the way. When she swung a third time, he grabbed the book from her hand. It disappeared into thin air. “Don’t use my own children against me, that’s cruel.
The book might be gone, but her anger wasn’t. She threw herself at him, fists taking the place of the blunt object.
She wasn’t even worth dodging. He just stood there and took it as she pounded her fists uselessly into his chest. “Howdare you!”
Vile said nothing, his expression flat and unreadable as she vented at him. He simply rested his hands on her hips and let her empty it all out.
When her anger was gone, sorrow threatened to take its place. Sorrow…and shame. What had she done? Tears stung her eyes, and she placed her palm flat against his chest. Thisthingwas going to kill her sister. And likely her, too. It had taken them both from Earth to be itsplaythings.To make them dance for its amusement until it killed them.
And she’dfucked it.
Because she’dwanted to.
Not because it’d save her life. Not because it’d get her anywhere. Not because he made her. But because she’dsimply wanted it.Wanted him. Wanted the character he played. And wanted the desire he felt for her. Thefantasyof it all.
It wasn’t his fault.
She was mad at herself.
He was just…doing what he did. He was a force of nature. Lighting hit things. Vile was a villain.
“Don’t just silently stare at me, it’s weird.” She rubbed her eyes, glad that the tears abated.
He didn’t speak for a moment. And when he did, he was quiet. The almost constant sadistic glee was missing. “I was letting you sort out your thoughts. It wasn’t something I should interrupt by the looks of things.”
“And you mean that literally. Since you canread—”She sighed. Resting her forehead on his chest, she shut her eyes. She wasn’t seeking comfort from him. She just needed something to lean on, and he was there. “I don’t need you mocking me.”
“I was not mocking you.”
“Yes, you were.”
“How? When?”
“You saying you didn’t expect to seduce me that quickly.” She lifted her head to shoot him a vicious glare.
“That wasn’t me mocking you! That was—” He blinked. His expression fell. “Oh. Look, simply becauseyouinferred that I implied it made you a loose woman, does not make it my intended meaning.” He wagged a finger in her face. “And I am not responsible foryourgross misinterpretation of my words.”
Narrowing her eyes, she figured she’d let him dig that hole deeper. “All right. What did you mean, then?”
“Simply that when we met you seemed to be a far moodier and weaker-spirited creature that would not benearlyso amenable to enjoying—unngh!”Vile doubled over in pain as she drove her knee up into the space between his legs.
She was getting better at hiding things from him. Turning on her heel, she stormed away, leaving him to suffer and grip the table to keep from toppling to the floor. She wasn’t sure if she’d actually hurt him—or if she only hurt him because it madenarrative sensefor it to hurt.
It was probably the latter. Little by little, she was starting to figure this shit out.
“Think you’re clever now, do you?”
The room went pitch black.
The floor opened up underneath her.
