Her body felt strong and alive, and beneath her punishing mouth, his pulse grew faint—barely a whisper. She swore she could feel his soul, clinging to the last vestiges of life.
A soft touch on her shoulder drew her attention, and suddenly Dorian was kneeling at her side, his hand on her back, a soft, imploring smile touching his lips.
“All right, love,” he whispered. “Not too much.”
Charley shrugged, not ready to break away just yet. For the man who’d murdered her father, there was no such thing as too much. Too much pain, too much fear, too much death—Travis deserved it all.
“Charlotte,” Dorian said again, “I will back you up onanything. You must know that. But I also promised you if you lost your footing, I’d help you find your way back.” He reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “This isn’t you. You’re not a murderer. Come back, love. Come back to me.”
Charley closed her eyes, not wanting to see the love in his. Not wanting to see the disappointment if she didn’t obey.
You’re not a murderer…
The words reverberated through her mind, hitting her again and again until they finally broke through the bloodlust, the vengeance, the grief.
But the voice in her head wasn’t just Dorian’s.
Suddenly, she heard Rogozin too.
Revenge… It does not fill hole inside you. It only leads to more holes.
Charley’s resolve wavered. Could she do this? Kill a human being—even a piece of shit human being like Travis? He certainly deserved it.
But in the end, Dorian was right. Charley may have worn a lot of masks in her life, taken on a lot of fake identities to get what she needed. But she wasn’t a killer. Not of humans.
Killing Travis meant her uncle had won. That he’d given her one more role to play, turning her into a vicious murderer.
Slowly, she came back to herself. Slowly, she pulled away from the vein and stepped back from the couch. Back from the precipice.
Beside her, Dorian let out a breath and got to his feet.
“Okay?” he whispered, and she nodded.
She was okay. She wouldn’t kill him.
But she wouldn’t leave him unscathed, either. Not after what he’d done to her.
She hovered over the half-spent body before her, gazing into his eyes once more.
In a soft, hypnotic voice, she said,
“I want you to sit here in this apartment androt, Travis. If by some miracle you survive the night, if by some miracle you ever make it out of here, I want you to remember this moment. Every day you wake up, every time you jerk off, every time you think to hurt another woman, I want you to rememberme. Remember what I did to you tonight. Remember what I canstilldo to you, any damn day I please. You will live with that fear. That uncertainly. The constant looking over your shoulder, wondering just how close death really is, becausethat’swhat I’ve lived with ever since you put a bullet in my father’s head.”
She stood up again and wiped the blood from her mouth.
Glancing once more at Dorian, she nodded and held her hand out.
Dorian cupped her face, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Then, with complete trust, he handed over the Blade of Azerius.
Rudy screamed behind the duct tape.
“What’s that, asshole?” Dorian asked. “I don’t think she quite heard you.” He tore the tape from Rudy’s mouth, and her uncle continued mid-rant, as though he hadn’t even realized he’d been muzzled.
“…practically raised you!” Rudy shouted. His eyes were demon black, his watch lost in the struggle, but Charley was no longer afraid of him. Even without the blade, she finally saw her uncle for the desperate, pathetic stain that he was.
“Paid your bills,” he continued. “Bought your clothes. Kept a roof over your head after your father died.Hewas the one who sold you out to Azerius! He was the one who made the deal!”
“Because you fucked around with demons and backed him into a corner,” she said calmly, refusing to let him get under her skin. “He did it to save our lives. And eventhatwasn’t enough for you.”
