Of Blood and Smoke

Chapter 34

THIRTY-FOUR

Josiah

I smelled her before I saw her. I’d almost expected her arrival and was relieved when she didn’t disappoint. Perhaps this was why I was taking an exquisitely long time extracting Brett’s life from his body and soul. I’d been waiting for her.

She needed to know what I was willing to do for her love and devotion. There was no boundary I wouldn’t cross so she would know she held my heart in the palm of her hand.

I remembered the night I’d read her journal, perusing her entries pleading for help from gods that would never listen. She’d wanted help and she hated herself for it. She wanted someone to step in with a miracle, ease her burden. She wanted both complete control of her life, and to be able to surrender. Those feelings were not unfamiliar to me.

The first night I’d ever seen her, she’d been attracted to the display of violence I’d had lain out on the asphalt, her pulse frantically thrumming through her veins with excitement, desire, and fear. She’d wanted the power and the authority I’d allowed her to see. She’d wanted it demonstrated in her own life.

And here I was, answering her prayers.

Micha sat quietly in a chair across from where I stood, resting his arms on his legs, chin in hand. His eyes flicked to mine and a slow smirk spread across his face. He’s sensed her, too.

Brett hung suspended from a meat hook here in the chamber I’d had installed in the lower level of my riverside home. It was larger than the one in my office and conveniently included barred cells where the two errant guards were currently awaiting their fate.

“We’ll wait,” I told Micha, moving to a built-in cabinet. The slick metal finish of the cabinets, cupboards, and walls assured ease of clean up and was aesthetically pleasing when brilliant splashes of red decorated their surfaces. So far, my star prisoner had not provided me with any artwork.

Brett’s eyes flickered open upon hearing my words and at that same moment, the door pushed forward. Micha glanced at her before returning his focus to the man dangling from the ceiling just as she said, “Oh.” Her pretty honey-colored irises fixated on the spectacle and her mouth hung open.

“Della, help me,” the man said, his voice tinged with pain. She frowned at him and then looked at me, her eyes wide.

“You will not speak to her.” I whirled around and stalked back to him as he wiggled like a worm. “You will not speak to her ever again. You forfeited that privilege the moment you endangered her.”

“Me?” he spat, showering me with spittle. “You’re the only one putting her at risk—I would’ve kept her safe.”

Micha huffed behind me, acknowledging the idiotic rambling. Crossing the room, I went back to the cabinet and opened it again, before selecting a viciously serrated blade.

“I fear you’ve gotten yourself in over your head, my dear Brett. You know not what you’ve done.” I ran a finger over the jagged points, splitting my skin and watching the deep crimson drops pearl into perfect beads. “Or maybe you do?”

Staring at the man, I held my hand out toward Micha who rose and approached me, wrapping an arm around my waist and pressing his hips against me. It was my favorite part of torture, when the shock that ran across victim’s face blossomed at the sight of Micha moaning and licking the blood from my flesh. Either that, or when we played with each other’s cocks. I’d have to check with my Little One before I engaged in that particular type of play again. I wouldn’t want her to misunderstand or feel inadequate when she was all I’d ever need.

I caught her gaze as she watched my partner licking my finger clean. Her aura was a strong and deep color, gathered swirling around her pelvis. Interesting , I thought, right before her lusty scent hit me like a shot of heroin, hardening my dick to steel. Micha chuckled softly and licked my neck as Brett vomited down his own chest and backed away.

Not bothering to adjust my impressive and obvious arousal, I approached the man slowly, savoring his distress with every step. “You were saying?”

“They’re going to take you,” Brett whined. “I could’ve kept her safe. I have connections.”

“You’re dreadfully mistaken if you think for one moment, I will ever hand her over to you. Or to suggest I’d ever let anyone remove me.”

His rising fear wafted through the air and, fascinatingly, it wasn’t just me and Micha responsible. He was truly concerned for Della and wanted to rescue her. As thoughtful as that was, it wouldn’t save him. Running the flat edge of my blade down Brett’s chest, I inhaled, drinking in his distress and savoring it. The spiced bitter flavor flowed over my tongue, watering my mouth, and further instigating my hunger.

Glancing down at my hands, I let my nails grow until they were tapered like claws and the glassy surface reflected light. I was momentarily distracted by the thought I could’ve provided a much cozier and more intimate atmosphere for something as personal as this. Then, I stretched my mouth open, falling in love with the man’s pleading whine.

I let the sound fill my head as I stepped closer, his shoulder brushing mine as I leaned toward his ear. His arm ruffled my hair as he squirmed, pissing himself. The acrid, disgusting scent of his waste filled my nostrils, and my two canine teeth descended. I scraped them lightly down his cheek, tearing a paper-thin trail and inhaling his terror. His tear-salted skin tickled my lips as I tore down to the meaty flesh of his neck and bit into him.

His blood burst into my mouth showering the roof with juice. The flavors of his fear, heartache, and hopelessness rained down my throat as I took three deep draws of the liquid. I released him and stood; my head thrown back while I let the ecstasy tear through my veins and replenish my cells. Brett rocked back and forth lightly, groaning. I could hear the metallic rubbing sound of the suspension system’s steel links; it was the only sound in the room beside his pain.

I moved in front of him to see his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenched shut. Slapping him soundly on the cheek, I asked, “What was promised to you?”

Silence.

Another slap. “What did they offer you?” His blood splattered across my face as he lied to me. Tradition dictated the Ancients retrieve me if I stepped out of line and he’d suggested they were planning.

The chains grated overhead roughly, and Brett opened his reddened eyes. “Nothing,” he rasped.

“He’s lying,” Micha stated, flicking an imaginary piece of lint from his shirt. “I tire of this.”

The scrape of shoes on metal sounded and Della appeared at my side. “Who is coming after Josiah?” She looked to her him for an answer, her voice shaky.

“Della,” Brett whispered, his eyes shuttering.

“Answer me!” she yelled, her voice squeaking at the end. She was trembling, and scared, and I couldn’t help but put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The contact made her jump, and her gaze met mine before she looked back at Brett.

He gripped the chains for a moment, temporarily relieving some of the pressure from the hook in his back and squeezed his eyes shut. He was holding up surprisingly well, considering. Placing my hands on his waist, I spun him. He twisted until the slack on the hook and chains snapped taut and spun him back, jerking him back and forth. His eyes rolled in his head.

I caught Della staring and realized I was grinning, which probably accounted for her slack-jawed appearance.

No matter, she’d get used to it as time went on.

“Brett,” I said, smoothly. “If you’d like to put an end to these festivities, I suggest you answer my woman.”

“You’re just gonna kill me, anyway,” he muttered.

He wasn’t wrong. “Yes. But I’d imagine brevity is a concern for you.” I dragged my nails down his chest, taking a moment to swirl a couple of his chest hairs around my finger. “Isn’t Della a priority to you? Or did I misunderstand?” I yanked my finger back, ripping the hair out by the root. It didn’t have quite the effect I hoped for, and the man just hung his head.

A soft touch smoothed down my arm. Della. I turned to look at her. “What is he talking about? Who’s trying to kill you?” she asked.

“Go wait over there,” I pointed toward the exit where she’d been waiting before. “We’ll discuss this later.” The man seemed he’d stop at nothing to drag Della into his psychosis.

Obediently, she shuffled away, and I lifted my blade. I began carving away at Brett, removing one-inch slivers from his flesh as if I were carving a piece of wood for relaxation. Twice, the man passed out and I was forced to smack him back to consciousness. The whole time, he refused to answer me. There was no point, as all he dealt in was deception, and he knew it.

Tiring, and knowing Della was exhausted and in need of rest, I ceased working on his body. It was useless to continue, he wasn’t going to give me any more information and all I really wanted to do was settle in for the evening. My decision made, I leaned over Brett’s neck and sucked his soul free from his body, drinking in his essence. It drifted down my throat and coursed through my cells, satisfying me.

“Micha,” I called my friend over as a shiver raced down my spine. “Please,” I said, indicating the depleted body.

He bent slightly, his teeth elongating into two devasting spikes before he latched onto the man’s pectoral muscles. The wet slurping sounds as he licked and suckled filled the room and I made my way over to Della, my shoe slipping lightly in the blood on the floor.

“Here, clean your shoes,” I instructed her, taking a small hose similar to a medical instrument from a holder on the wall.

She stared at it and then braced a hand on the wall and lifted her legs one at a time to rinse the bottom of her shoes. I followed suit and then dried mine on the mat just outside the door.

“Your nails,” Della said, grasping my hand. They were still elongated, the tapered ends stained red.

She ran her index finger underneath the edge of one, staring curiously. “Careful, they are sharp,” I warned. I licked my lower lip, feeling the hunger rising within me.

She gave me a weary smile. “I don’t think you’d mind.”

“Not at all,” I answered, giving her a deep, quick kiss. The residual blood from Brett mingled with her taste, enflaming me, driving me to nip her. The mewling sound she made when I bit was licked away with a long swipe of my tongue and her fingers dug into my sides as I backed her toward the staircase.

I would’ve just taken her right there in the chamber, but I didn’t want Micha seeing her at her most vulnerable, that was only for me. Inherently selfish, I wouldn’t share. Every wisp of her pure soul, every sparkle of her sweet eyes, every drop of her blood was solely for my sustenance.

Cupping her cheeks tenderly, I pulled away. “Go upstairs,” I told her.

Brett’s final words deeply concerned me. It was uncertain whether he’d acted alone or if he’d been following orders from someone here in the Third Realm. The man whose house we’d retrieved Della from hadn’t known Brett was going to bring her there. He didn’t know she was there until Micha and I had arrived. What had he been planning?

If anyone knew the ways of the Ancients, the Collective, it was me. Brett was clearly unfamiliar with their ways. I’d worked for them for years, enforcing their rules, privy to their goals, and executing their punishments.

Many, many years would go by with their absence. The five men remained separated from general society in their private homes situated far, far away from the palace complex.

During those times, a lord would be in authority over the court, such as Sem, the last lord I’d been appointed to. There was no one left whom he’d worked with, here.

Sem was dead, or extinguished—the proper term since he wasn‘t coming back. His essence was rejoined, in theory, with the Creator. No one truly knew what happened when one was extinguished, only that no one ever returned. The finality of this type of disposal was sobering.

Seeing as Sem was gone, I was at a loss as to who may have hired Brett to interfere and had to assume he’d acted alone.