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Elijah
“Iknew you would bring her. Tired of her already?” My stepfather questions, and his voice reeks of I told you so.
If only this motherfucker knew what was still to come.
Keeping my tone neutral, “Yup. Got bored of her. I knocked her out before coming. She's here, leaning against the wall. Where do you want her?”
He clasps his hands together with excitement, “Bring her to the sacrifice table, boy.”
Looking over at it, I nod. As I prop myself up from where I was leaning, his loud voice overtakes the room again, “And take that fucking rabbit mask off. You are being disrespectful towards The Dark One.”
“I don’t think I will.”
Propping my bat over my shoulder, I turn around to walk out when his ego takes over, needing to get the last word. “What is that?”
Stopping in my tracks, I don’t bother to turn and face him. I already know what he is referencing, “A fucking flamethrower. In case a torch goes out.”
He knows it’s a lie, but he isn’t smart enough to put it together himself, so I’m not worried.
“Your snarky attitude will not be tolerated in The Chapel, do you understand me? Now bring her to me.”
It takes every ounce of restraint not to end him now. To watch him bleed out on the ground before me, begging for his worthless life like the vermin he is. But I can’t, he belongs to Rain.
Walking to the hall, her face is turned toward me.
“Did you hear everything?”
She nods.
“Then you know what I need from you? I need you to play dead for me while I carry you over to the table.”
Her head nods again. I am not sure if it is from fear or wanting to remain quiet.
“The element of surprise will catch him off guard. We will use that to our advantage. I believe in you, little bat.”
Not giving her a chance to respond, I wedge my bat under my arm and swoop her in my arms, bridal style. Her arms reach around my neck.
“Little bat, I need you to go limp for me. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” She frantically responds.
“It’s ok, sweet girl.”
Her head falls back over my arm, and then her arms follow. One hangs at her side while the other has fallen over her stomach.
In a hushed whisper, “Good girl. Just like that.”
My breath becomes heavy, and the mask has little to no circulation, which helps make me realize that I need to calm down.
“Boy. What’s taking so long?” A thunderous shout comes from behind me.
Rolling my eyes, I don’t respond.
With Rain in my arms, I make my way back through the arch and into the room. His followers have parted, creating a clear path for us which leads to the infamous table. The table where I killed her mother and many others before. None of which mattered like she does.
Nobody speaks as I walk past them. My boots are crunching against the gravel with each step. My mother and number three have since moved from where they stood, to standing next to the table. Maxton is standing at the head.
The table is bare, no shackles or weapons are in sight. My brows furrow under my mask. He did just as I anticipated. Playing right into the palm of my hand.
