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If he’d wanted me dead, the knife should have been higher, or more centered. Or lower, where he could have fucked up my stomach or liver.
Instead he’d nestled the blade precisely where it would cause me a lot of discomfort and keep me down for the count, but not kill me.
Shaking, I gripped the knife and sucked in a deep breath.
What if Badb was lying?
If she was lying, it wouldn’t matter at this point. I’d bleed out, and Manea would get her hands on Leo no matter what. But I had to at least try to do something. Even if it was something profoundly stupid.
Leo was squared off against Mormo, the man and the monster almost equal in height, and for a moment I truly thought Leo might be able to take Mormo on.
Then I remembered Mormo was a god.
Sure, a traitorous, ass-kissing, ugly-as-fuck god, but an immortal creature nevertheless. Leo was still human, in spite of who his father was. If this came to blows, Mormo would wipe the floor with the demigod.
Mormo was clearly trying to avoid attacking Leo directly.
“Sssstop, boy. Thissss will only be more difficult for you. Sssstand down.”
Leo jabbed at him with the butcher knife, lunging towards the god with the obvious intent of returning the favor for what Mormo had done to me. The god weaved out of the way, scuttling down the hall towards me like a spider backed into a corner.
“I’m not here for the taking, freak.” Leo held the knife up, looking slightly awkward with it in his hand. I doubted he had any regular need to use a bladed weapon. “Go tell your beloved death goddess to fuck off.”
Whoa. Check out the balls on this guy.
“Sssstupid.” Mormo was standing over me now, and he grabbed me by the hair, hoisting me back up to my feet while I tried—and failed—to catch my breath. The handle of the knife was in my hand, and my mind was reeling, trying to settle on what to do next. Being dragged around by my hair wasn’t the best way to help me focus.
“Hey,” I wheezed. “What’s with you calling people sssstupid all the time?” I mimicked him as best I could, but feigning his signature sibilance reduced me to a new fit of coughing. Blood droplets splattered on the floor around my feet.
Badb might have been full of shit. Perhaps she’d been lying to get Manea’s favor, but at this point I’d rather risk it than suffer this sensation any longer. Whatever the knife was doing to me, I couldn’t take another second of it.
“Sssstupid mortalssss desssserve to be dissssmissssed
.”
I glanced at the creature who leered at me with his monstrous, hideous face, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he didn’t care whether I lived or died, or how badly I suffered. His face lacked any kind of empathy. The way he looked at me was not unlike the way someone looks at a bug they’ve just crushed underfoot.
I was nothing more than a smear beneath his cloven hooves.
Fuck. That.
“Dismiss this, asshole.” I pulled the knife out of my ribs, and it felt like all my internal organs went along with it. Any subtle surprise the action might have had was diminished by my scream, but it didn’t make any difference. Mormo hadn’t expected me to fight back.
I plunged the blade into his neck, which he’d so thoughtfully exposed to me when he pulled me off the floor.
Mormo dropped me, and since I had absolutely no strength left beyond what I’d used to stab him, I landed on the hardwood with a loud, painful thud. The god was yowling, clutching at the wound and staggering backwards towards the door.
That whole no-empathy thing was feeling pretty good right about now.
Whatever he’d done to the knife was working its terrible magic on him, like Badb had promised. I would have liked her to be a bit more specific about how the bracelet’s enchantment functioned, but as long as it did what she suggested it would, I didn’t care about the fine print.
“Bitch,” Mormo spat.
I tilted my head back, unable to prop myself up to get a better look at his struggle. “Don’t worry, it won’t kill you, you immortal prick.” Pressing my hand to the open wound between my ribs, I sucked in a breath, the world around me going hazy. I doubted I’d be conscious much longer.
In the darkness was a faint ray of sunlight, growing ever brighter as I drifted out of my sensible mind. It was still night, so I understood I was imagining the light, yet I was drawn to it anyway. Somewhere, like an echo or a barely remembered thought, I heard Mormo thump against the wall, fighting with the blade and cursing me up and down. The three Keres were whispering about death, but they sounded more like insects now than actual threats.
The world was fading fast, and so too were all my earthly worries.
