Page 53 of Villainous Intent

There was a boom that rattled the glasses on our table. Then the screaming started. The high-pitched, terrified sound of someone who knew they were about to die.

“Ooo, who is it?” Menace asked excitedly, hopping up from his seat.

He started toward the hallway, but the show came to us instead. A body streaked through the doorway and slammed into the wall behind the bar with a sickening crunch, the sound of bones breaking, of a body becoming something less than human.

Glass shattered. Liquor bottles exploded in a cascade of amber and clear liquid that mixed with something darker and thicker.

My brain struggled to process the image. A Villain in an obnoxious yellow suit was suspended against the wall, his hands clutching at something protruding from his chest. Something dark and writhing.

Someone had speared him to the wall with shadows.

The wet sounds of his breathing filled the sudden silence. Gurgling. Desperate. Then Dread stepped into the room.

I recognized him immediately. How could I ever forget him? It was at his match that my fate had been sealed.

“Wait, didn’t those two have an alliance?” Menace asked, sounding delighted.

“Apparently, not anymore,” Cipher answered.

Dread raised his hand, shadows coalescing in his palm. He hefted them, testing their weight.

I turned in Cipher’s lap and buried my face against his shoulder. I didn’t want to see. Didn’t want to hear.

But Cipher’s hand tangled in my hair, gripping the roots hard.

“Watch,” he commanded.

“No,” I whispered into his chest.

He yanked my head back and forced my face toward the bar, his fingers tightening in my hair until my scalp stung.

“Open your eyes, Annie. Look at it.”

I gasped, my eyes flying open just as the wet thud echoed through the room.

The solidified shadow pierced flesh. The screaming cut off mid-breath with horrible finality.

The second shadow spike went straight through the Villain’s throat, pinning him like a grotesque butterfly specimen. Blood ran down the wall in thick rivulets, pooling on the floor behind the bar.

My stomach heaved, but Cipher held me in place. He wouldn’t let me look away as his other hand slid up my stomach until it was right over my racing heart.

“Feel that?” he murmured against my ear. “That isn’t fear, Bishop. That’s survival.”

“It’s horrible,” I choked out.

“It’s power.”

His thumb dug into my ribs, almost painful. “Dread decided who would be left breathing in this room. I decide who breathes in this booth. And you...” He dragged his nose along the sensitive cord of my neck, inhaling deeply. “You are alive because you belong to me.”

My breath hitched. The adrenaline flooding my system had nowhere to go, so it turned into heat. It settled aching between my thighs.

Cipher felt the change in my breathing. He knew.

“There it is,” he whispered, his lips brushing the pulse jumping in my throat. “Violence and sex. They bleed from the same vein, Annie.”

I wanted to push him away and run. But the hand in my hair held me fixed, and the hand on my ribs felt like it was holding my shattered pieces together.

“Damn, I wonder what he did,” Menace said, still staring at the cooling corpse.