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Nevertheless, I was not built for misplaced sentimentality. My Variant had never steered me wrong—not once in my life. Now flaring in my chest as bright as a strobe light, the atmosphere thickened in wild hostility. With weighed judgement, my heavy heart strained in regret.
Oscar cackled, his concerned mask shattering. “You always were the smartest of your sisters. Where are they?”
My face remained impassive. “You should know, since you killed them.”
He clucked. “Now, young Micah. I’m notsolelyresponsible.”
“Then tell me who is and I’ll deal with them, too.”
“Too?” His stance grew predatory. “So you’re going to deal with me, are you?” He made a show, perusing my lack of attire. “In what way, may I ask? Well, you being a whore and all.”
I am really getting sick of that fucking word.
Oscar was a phenomenal fighter. He was one of our trainers from an early age. However, I wasn’t a little girl anymore. Nil fear or apprehension registered, just the desperate need to see the lifeforce drain from his one remaining eye.
I rocked on the balls of my feet, muscles tightening from prolonged tension. I didn’t have a weapon, not even a measly knife to stick into his flesh, but I’d take my chances.
We began to circle each other, the single round table the lone barrier between us. I scoped his movements as he assessed mine in return, actions purposeful and transient.
“Tell me,Uncle. Do you still have that golden crown tattooed over your chest? Do you mourn the loss of your family?”
“I have a new family.”
I clucked. “Cold-hearted as ever.”
Oscar halted across from me. “It’s what I taught you, no?”
“Indeed.”
I launched over the table, careening off the edge and smacking his hard, bulky form off-balance. When he reboundedoff the wall, my foot was waiting, a swift kick pounding into his rib cage.
Oscar released a breathless laugh and I retreated. In the onslaught, his shirt had ripped down the middle, my question answered without a word from him.
In the centre of his chest lay a white scar and overtop was the stark black outline of a ram’s skull, horns and all, replacing his allegiance to the Sovereign.
I blinked, attention zoned in on the image. “I may have sold my soul for vengeance, and I guess that does make me a whore in some respects. But I have never met a cheaper whore than you,Uncle.”
Oscar blanched, my statement affecting him more than I’d expected. I spoke with honesty.
I reinforced my fighting stance, instincts heightened, assessing his upcoming assault. “Who do you work for?”
He mirrored my position. “You will get nothing out of me, not even if you torture me within an inch of my life. I will answer none of your questions,” he smirked, cocking his head in a predatory fashion. “Cute that you think you'd be able to, though.”
“What about this upcoming meeting with Vice? Will someone talk there?”
Recognition sparked in his gaze, the realisation that I’d overheard his previous statement. Oscar’s features transitioned, unhinged and bestial, finishing with a hiss. “She may not know you survived, but she will destroy you in the end.”
“Lethertry,” I replied. He realised his fuck up too late, his emotions overriding his reason, unintentionally handing over valuable intel.
I sneered at his expense and he attacked.
Oscar landed shots over my open flesh, the impact ricocheting into my bones. I delivered the same in kind,his surprised grunts providing the sustenance I craved. We presented a coordinated dance, my Uncle and I, postures never wavering. I’d go on forever if I had to.
Oscar panted. “Now that I think on it, this is a special month, right?” His statement rocked me, my guard crashing for the split second it took my brain to process his words. It was enough. He slammed my skull against the tabletop, the impact vibrating with a monstrous crack. My legs buckled as I slumped to the ground, head buzzing and mind in disarray as I tried to recollect my composure.
Although my vision was blurred, I could make out his silhouette as he circled my collapsed form, his outward hatred flowing like an inescapable shadow.
“A shame Chase didn’t quite reach her seventeenth birthday,” Oscar snickered unkindly. “A day for celebration, turned into a day of disaster. You lost your father, your sisters.”
