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Ottavia
chapter Five
Ascream worked its way up in my throat as I stared in horror at the graphic violence before me.
I had seen brutality of all flavors growing up a La Rosa, but there was something particularly shocking about witnessing this carnage up close. Watching the Abhartach quite literally tear his men apart, with his bare hands, was not a sight I would forget easily. Wide-eyed, I gazed around the room at the bloody massacre. Blood and thicker matter dripped from the walls. Pooling puddles of bodily fluid gleamed in the bright lights on the shiny marble floor, creating sickening moats around the fallen bodies.
My hands were shaking, so I crossed my arms to hide the telltale trembling. My stare trailed to Eoin, whose shoulders were quaking with apparent uninhibited rage. His eyes were a gleaming, bright scarlet, as red as the blood that speckled his face and clothing. I swore his fangs appeared larger, pressing sharp points into his thick bottom lip as he examined the mess he created.
A dark-haired man I recognized as one of Ó Ceallaigh’s top men stood in the doorway, surveying the scene. A huff left his mouth, and it wasn’t until I saw the wry smile tugging at his lips that I realized it was a laugh.
“Feel bett’r?” the man asked. He leaned a hip against the doorframe as he matched my stance, arms crossed over his massive chest. He wasn’t as tall as Eoin, but he was practically double his width, his shoulders taking up nearly the whole doorframe. I had a wild, erroneous moment of wondering if Abhartachs only chose men built like Greek gods to turn into vampires, before my brain flipped back to more important matters, like the dead bodies on the floor… which also proved that no, not all vampires were built like the statue of David. I eyed Eoin from my peripherals, and my inner slut said,But he is.
Eoin adjusted a cuff link as he replied to the other man. “Much. Earwigging, are ye?”
He toed the head closest to him with a shrug in answer, causing it to turn over. The mouth, wide open and screaming, was aimed in my direction. My stomach rolled. “Ye could ’ear the screams from outside.”
“Make sur’ they all know na ta touch her, Declan.”
The other man—Declan—inclined his head before turning and walking away with a purposeful stride. Eoin turned to me, eyes now back to their usual, startling shade of emerald green.
My hackles rose automatically. I didn’t enjoy being on the receiving end of his powerful gaze, even as I purposefully angled my stare at his annoyingly perfect, Roman nose. Which reminded me—
“Don’t youevertry to compel me again,” I demanded. I think we both knew I was posturing, because I was injured and weaponless, but I wouldn’t go down screaming, like a terrified rabbit. Even if I had to fake my boldness, I would fake it until my brash, bloody end.
Eoin’s dark eyebrows rose at my order. “I don’t t’ink yer in any position ta be makin’ demands, love.” A crooked smile sat on his lips as he considered me, all five-foot-nothing and covered in a scrap of a dress.
If anything, it appeared as though my boldness amused him…
Which infuriated me.
Anger was a secondary emotion to me. It was a constant ember burning inside me, just waiting for a spark to ignite it into raging flames. I leaned into those flames now, letting them burn away the ache of my injuries until I felt nothing but the blazing cinders of my wrath. With a furious scream, I launched myself at Eoin.
“Yer always so feisty when we’re t’gether,” he chuckled as he caught my body weight like I was an errant leaf blowing in the wind.
“Maybe I just don’t like you,” I spat, chest heaving. He crushed me up against him, his solid muscles pressed against my curves in a way I wished wasn’t so distracting.
My mind flashed back to the pleasure he had given me the last time we were together—so powerful, so demanding, so brutally intense. I had been putty in his hands as I came for him, dripping down his fingers like a needy slut. As great as the pleasure had been, being forced into a haze of arousal against my will ate me up inside. I knew some humans came to Invictus willingly, wanting to be put under the drugged cloud of pheromones, but partaking in vices had never been appealing to me. Being betrayed by your own body was a feeling I wouldn’t wish on anyone. The feeling curdled inside of me, leaving me rotten and bitter and broken in a way I hadn’t experienced before.
Everything had been spiraling downhill so rapidly that I hadn’t even had a chance to process what had occurred between us.
Tears sprang to my eyes as I wrenched myself out of his grip and took a few quick steps back. I blinked the tears back as I sneered at the vampire, refusing to allow myself to cry in front of him. In the corner of my eye, I could see the open door. I didn’t let myself look that direction, knowing Eoin would read the intention, and fought my damnedest to keep my body language neutral. Intentionally, I tensed the left side of my body, like I was going to spring from that side, and saw Eoin minutely ready his body in anticipation. I read the move and counteracted, springing from my right foot but running diagonally, cutting across the bodies as I raced toward the door, bare feet slipping on the chilled blood.
A sigh, like he was bored, and then Eoin’s arm was wrapped around my waist and flinging me backward. I landed on the bed with a bounce, jolting my already pounding head. I leaned up on my arms, taking in the easy stance the Abhartach had acquired. He had a smartphone in one hand and was texting away with his thumb, the other hand comfortably resting in the pocket of his slacks, wholly unconcerned about my numerous attempts to murder him and escape.
Being treated as though I wasn’t a threat was not a new feeling. As a woman, men tended to underestimate me on a regular basis. It did not sit well with me when human men did it, and it especially didn’t sit right when Eoin Ó Ceallaigh did it.
I had killed one of his men, and injured more of them when I was ambushed and unarmed. It was almost flattering that he killed his men in my honor, but it pissed me off more than anything. He needed to take me seriously.
Eyes narrowed, I let my gaze travel around the room as I sat up, never letting them pause on anything, even as I found my target.
“You’ll never keep me in here,” I proclaimed boldly as I stood from the bed. I kept my movements careful, slow, like I was hesitant to get too near to the vampire in the room.
Eoin’s eyes lifted from his phone as he considered me a moment, before they dropped back down to the task at hand, whatever that was. “I t’ink I already hav’. And I t’ink ye’ll be stayin’ quite a bit longer, too, lass.”
“I think you’re wrong, Abhartach.” Even as I spoke, I was diving toward one of the bodies of his men, sliding on the blood and grabbing for the gun in his holster. I felt more than heard Eoin behind me and ducked from his grasping fingers. I had the safety off and had the gun flipped toward Eoin just as he grabbed a fistful of my hair and hauled me to my feet.
I fired off one shot at close range, striking the vampire in the stomach before he took my wrist in a crushing grip and yanked us close together. The gun was pressed between our chests, the barrel close enough that if I fired, it would likely take off both of our faces.
