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But my hands twitch, not quite as empty as the rest of me. I start shooting at the fucking bastard birds still flittering around the room without any regard for who’s behind them or who I may hit instead.
They fall with fluttering feathers, caws cut off mid sound, but there’s no relief. No peace.
Only a roar inside my head that seems to be mimicked by some noise outside.
Perhaps the foundation’s crumbling like at the meat factory. Maybe a sandworm’s come to eat us all.
I don’t care.
It doesn’t matter.
Nothing matters without her.
39
THE CREEPER
I turn toward Barnabas,the sperm-donating motherfucker who tortured me and twisted me into the fucking bastard I am today. His expression is warped by pleased malice as he drinks in the absolute anguish all around him.
That golden fucking goat man’s antlers are glowing from a ring light he stands inside, as if he’s got a full-body halo. He may pretend, but he’s anything but an angel.
He’s the worst of us.
And that light won’t protect him from me.
Nothing will.
If I have to raze the entire world to the ground to destroy him, I will. Because he just destroyed my entire world.
Those birds might have done the damage, but he was the puppet master pulling the strings.
“YOU DID THIS!” I scream, my voice cracking as my rage and anguish collide internally, both fighting for control.
“No, son.” He uses that word with the utmost irony. “You did.”
His words slice me open, tear exactly at that tender part of me. I would never have refused my little warrior when she asked to fight—always knew she could hold her own. But against him? Against the evil that almost destroyed me a thousand times over?
It is my fault.
A scream lashes through me, and suddenly, I’m in motion.
Sprinting and leaping five feet into the air, my stomach flies up, and my torso hollows.
My father’s eyes widen infinitesimally, as if he didn’t expect a direct attack.
I don’t give a damn what he expects.
I body slam into the bastard, my elbow connecting with his nose and sending a gratifying jolt of pain up my arm as I tackle him to the ground.
His tail lashes at my side, breaks a rib, and makes me suck in a jagged breath. But even the knife-like pain of my own bones stabbing me doesn’t make me stop.
Inside my head, I can feel the effects of his magic, digging at my thoughts, rearranging them, winding around my brain like ivy on a rosebush in search of a branch to cling to and choke. His magic is predatory, always has been. Unfortunately for him, all of my greed was extinguished with Aliana’s final breath.
I want nothing but his death.
And I don’t want to kill him to regain Ebony Kingdom. I don’t give a shit about that any longer.
I want to watch the light seep from his eyes because it’s what he deserves.
