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“I doubt he’s that worthy of the fear. This guy’s just pathetic.”
“Those are the kind of assumptions that get you into trouble.”
Historically, he was right. Despite my outward show of cockiness, which I would maintain until the last breath left this fae asshole’s body, I was worried. Yes, I’m a badass. Yes, I’d killed over fifteen people and had other ways of dealing with the ones who didn’t deserve death. But I’m only one person. Well, one person and a familiar. With the steady stream of Alphas finding me, I’d slip up. Since I’m alone, that would be the end of my current way of life.
Ignoring the bleak thoughts for the time being, I strolled over to the corner of the curtained area and pulled one to the side. Behind it was a stainless steel sink and a few metal buckets stored below. I took one and filled it up halfway with ice cold water, then tossed it on the fae. He sputtered and choked on the sudden onslaught of water, body jerking hard enough to aggravate his disfigured hands.
“Nap time is over,” I said, pulling my stool up so I could sit alongside him. “Now, what were you about to tell me?”
I wished I could say the shower helped with how he smelled, but I couldn’t. In the process of being tortured, plenty of people lost control of their bodily functions. He was no exception. Sweat and all manner of other bodily fluids stained his clothing. Even my Omega hormones didn’t catch a tantalizing Alpha scent from the mess.
“Kylan Jitara.”
His heavy breathing broke up the words into individual syllables. “Kylan Jitara?” I repeated, and he nodded. “Who is he?”
The fae glanced around the small space and down at his hands. “Vampire mafia.”
Of course, the mafia was after me. It didn’t get any better than that. I considered thoroughly what question to ask next. With his bitten tongue and heavy breathing, he wasn’t in a place where he could say more than a few words at once. “Where can I find him?”
“B-Bloodshed Brewing.”
I’d heard of it. A seedy bar on the bad side of town with rumours abound. People went missing there, Nulls and supernaturals alike. “Is it his bar?”
“Yes.”
“Why does he want me?”
I watched the fear flicker across his expression. He didn’t know, but wanted to give me an answer. I bulldozed on. “Are you the only one he sent?”
He nodded, wincing. “This time.”
“What else should I ask him?”I asked Ozzy telepathically.
“Doubt he knows anything else. He’s the lowest on the food chain of the vampire mafia. Hell, he’s fae. They realized people were dying when they went to find you and sent a sacrificial lamb to make sure they were right. He’s probably a customer of the bar who took on a contract job.”
Fuck, he was right. I’d forgotten to consider his species. Demons hated the fae. A vampire wouldn’t let one in their organization. He would only be allowed in the bar because he spent money and was as depraved as any of the usual clientele, not batting an eye at atrocities being committed in plain view.
“Why did you try to rape me if you were getting me for him?” I asked, more out of curiosity than anything.
“Said I c-could taste f-first.”
I laughed. Oh, they’d known this would happen. I couldn’t imagine a vampire mafia kingpin allowing a low-born fae to fuck an Omega before they did. They’d told him to sample to make sure he’d receive the same fate as the ones who’d tried that in the past. This fate. Although they couldn’t be aware that I was the one doing the killing. Most people would imagine an overprotective Alpha guardian of some kind. Possibly a Beta man taking care of me. The assumption irked me — as if an Omega witch couldn’t take care of her damn self — but benefited me.
“You’re a fucking idiot. Ozzy, you can have him,” I said.
The orange tabby jumped onto the wide arm of the chair. Confusion bloomed on my captive’s face, but he hissed and winced when two tiny teeth embedded themselves into his arm. Oswald lapped up his blood as it drained from his body, somehow consuming enough that the fae passed out again. Then again, half the blood his body contained was dripping into a puddle on the floor.
“I bet he tastes disgusting. You could drink from me if you really need blood, you know. Wouldn’t my blood be more pleasant?”
He avoided eye contact as he licked up a few more drops before landing on the floor, just outside the range of the bloody puddle.“No need. I don’t require blood often.”
Rolling my eyes, I slid a sword out from a hidden sheath underneath the metal instrument trays. To finish the job on a fae, the big guns were required. Big blades, in my case. A gun would work, but they were loud and made my ears ring, and something about the old-fashioned way gave me more satisfaction in the kill. Sliding the sword into his heart, I twisted it, ensuring he wouldn’t wake up. And then, with one swing of the sharpened, magic-enhanced blade, I took off his head.
Simple. Efficient. Bloody, but less so because he didn’t have much left. And beheading was one of the few ways to kill a fae with absolute certainty. Some wouldn’t wake up from a stab to the heart, but just as many would heal right up and come back to haunt you. I’d learned that the hard way. I was lucky the guy was in such a rage that he came back without backup or telling a single person he’d just dug his way out of a shallow grave.
Since then I’d dug my graves deeper, too, for the bodies I disposed of in that manner.
“Gods, this blood is going to be a pain to get rid of when I’m this tired,” I grumbled to myself, Ozzy purring and licking his fur clean in the background. Regardless, I pulled out my wand and got to work.
