Page 81 of Dark Victory

She cried out.

He was surprised that his use of another woman would be so hurtful to her, but he did not dwell on that. It was hardly important. Instead, he said, “I suggest ye think long an’ hard on whether ye choose the boy over me.”

He turned to go but she stopped him in his tracks. She said, very softly, “If you sleep with another woman, you will never have me again.”

He faltered, incredulous. As he faced her, he knew she meant it. His next words were a warning. “Tabitha, ye must choose to ignore my affairs.”

“I can’t,” she said simply.

His heart lurched, hard. “Then we are at an impasse.”

“Yes, we are,” she said.

KRISTIN LAFARGE’S SENSES told her her roommate was out as she unlocked and entered their small apartment. She was pleased, because the woman was getting on her nerves.

Her mother wasn’t there, either.

Kristin was alarmed. She hadn’t seen her mother for almost twenty-four hours. Where was she? “Mother? Can you hear me? I need to speak with you.”

Kristin took off her coat, crossing the living room, which was sparsely furnished. She’d left the front door unlocked—she did not fear evil, and why should she? When she heard the door open, she turned, thinking it her mother. Then she sensed her roommate, Liz.

Liz smiled at her, then ducked her head and rushed into the kitchen. Kristin smiled. Her roommate was afraid of her. Liz was starting to speculate—and pretty soon, she might even figure things out.

Kristin laughed. She wasn’t worried, not at all.

“Mother, would you please get back here?”

There was no response, and Kristin sat down on the couch, taking her small laptop out of her briefcase.

Liz poked her head out of the kitchen. “Are you talking to me?”

“No, I’m not.” Kristin smiled sweetly. Liz paled and returned to the kitchen. She went online. “Well, if you’re listening, she went to Blayde in 1298,” she continued. “And guess what? I am going to get the powers I need to follow her there. Don’t worry. This will be over very, very soon.”

Liz came out of the kitchen, staring at her in alarm.

“Looking at me that way is not a good idea.”

Liz flushed. “Look, Kristin, this isn’t working out. I think you should find a new place.” She shifted uneasily.

Kristin sighed. If only the bitch had minded her own business. She simply stared at her, forming her black power into a noose. She slipped the noose around Liz’s throat. Liz touched her neck, obviously feeling something. Kristin smiled, pleasure beginning. Her mother had told her that one of her ancestors had been Satan’s grandson, centuries ago. It would explain why she could take so much pleasure in torture and pain.

She murmured, “Tighten, noose.”

Liz gasped, her hands flying to her neck as the invisible rope began to strangle her.

“Tighten, noose,” Kristin said, now breathing hard.

Liz reeled, trying to pull the invisible noose from her neck. She staggered across the room, choking. Her eyes were wide with panic and terror, and they begged Kristin to stop. Kristin wet her lips. “Tighten, noose,” she cried.

Liz fell to the floor, her face turning blue.

Kristin stood, panting. “Tighten!”

And she heard Liz’s neck snap.

She closed her eyes and let the pleasure wash over her, moaning softly. Then she imagined that it was Tabitha Rose, the bitch, who lay on that floor, broken and dead. Her pleasure renewed itself.

It took her a moment to calm. And then she sat down at the laptop and booked the presidential suite at the Carlisle Hotel.