Chapter 6
Dima
Ileave my little witch well ensconced in the armchair of the living room and head to my back room.
The old owner had a gym out here. I do too, but sometimes, for moments like this, it comes in handy for doing what I need to do.
It doesn’t happen too often. Most of the time my visions stop once the person found is reunited with their family.
There aren’t too many occasions where I get the go ahead to avenge, but when I do I make sure I do it in a way that fits the crime.
In this case Glenn will be raped. I would also castrate him but I know that Gretchen likes those bits the most.
Pressing a finger to Glenn’s chubby neck I feel for a pulse.
He’s been out for a while now and while I’m no slouch when it comes to fighting, I’m also not so dangerous that a couple of well placed hits will kill a man.
The pressure on his neck has him stirring, groaning.
His eyes fly open when he realizes he can’t move his hands.
Or his legs. I’ve strapped him over a flat weight bench, hands cuffed to the front legs, his back legs spread wide and cuffed into place on the back bench legs.
Unlike Chewy, the Icer for the DRMC, I don’t really want to own a bunch of sex furniture in order to torture.
This does the trick and looks a lot less fucking creepy when I have guests.
I move slightly, watching Glenn come to, the plastic sheets on the floor for easy cleanup rustling at the movement.
Glenn struggles against his restraints, helplessly tugging at them. He growls and tries to tip sideways, and I watch in amusement.
“I know you’re back there, verdun,” he spits, his naked, pasty body turning a mottled red as he gets more wild with anger.
“Da, I am. When you’re ready we’ll make a start.”
His body goes slack, as if giving in to the inevitable. Then a snort. A chuckle. He turns his head to the side, trying to look at me as he laughs hysterically before he stops abruptly.
“You have no idea what’s coming, do you?
You’re just a pawn in a game you have no chance of winning.
You think I’m the baddest out there? Oh no, there are more.
So many more. Worse than me.” He snorts, “I might steal those little angels you work so hard to find. But the others? They steal their light and destroy their souls.”
Turning my back on him and his ramblings I move toward the cupboard where I keep spare towels and suchlike. And by suchlike I mean the short wooden club that I like to use on men like Glenn. Again, unlike Chewy I don’t think I need a whole array of sex toys in my home.
“La Strega is interesting, isn’t she?”
I stiffen slightly at his words before hiding my reaction, not wanting to let him know what he’s said has affected me. I don’t give a shit about other specials or curses at this moment. I only care about sending Glenn straight to hell.
“You think what I do is dark? It’s fucking child’s play compared to what those in charge want to do with La Strega and her curse. If you’re aligning yourself with her you better be packing more than just the ability to find little lost girls.”
I rest the wooden club on his back, at the top of his ass crack and head for the living room, chased by his words.
My visions brought me to La Strega, Kristiana, and it’s my destiny to save her, just like it’s my destiny to rid the world of Glen.
Hitting the doorway to the living room I search for her, needing to have eyes on her to know that she’s safe and sound.
Her book is lying on the floor and she is nowhere in the room.
“La Strega!” I call out, moving to the kitchen, then to the hall, Glenn’s laughter following me. “Kristiana!” I call her name as I move through my house, making my way to the dining room, “Kristie!”
“Hey,” she steps in front of me, bouncing off my chest. I grip her upper arms, stopping her from falling to the floor, “no one calls me that except my family.” she says with narrowed eyes.
“I thought your family was dead?”
She stares at me, “My blood relatives are. But there are a couple of people who have my heart that call me that. Very rarely. I don’t see them much.” She glances away, pain etched on her face.
“I’m sorry, Ved’ma moya,” I say, gently cupping her soft face, my large thumb smoothing the crease between her brows.
“It’s OK,” she says quietly, her sorrowful eyes almost too large in her face. Her gaze moves over my shoulder for a moment, before returning to me, searching my eyes. “Say it again?”
My thumbs brush both her cheeks as I lean forward, resting my forehead against hers, “Kristie,” I whisper.
Her eyes close before she groans, “OK, well, you blew all my nostalgic feelings out of the water by saying my name all sexy like. I like it though. Call me that. But don’t blame me if you die.” She pulls back, twirling in place before pasting a smile on her face. “Dinner’s ready!”
“I still have to deal with Glenn.”
She spins toward me, “Where is he?”
Running a hand over the back of my neck I decide to be vague. “He’s ah, in the gym.”
“That’s weird. Lemme see?”
“No! How about you start eating and I’ll just quickly take care of it.”
Her eyes narrow and she steps up to me, her socked feet touching my boots, head tipped all the way back so she can stare at me. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly.
“Oh good, you won’t mind me taking a look then.”
Quick as a flash she darts around me, running through my house looking in all the rooms. She giggles as I chase her, squealing when I almost catch her and she slips through my fingers.
She may be small but she’s also wily. She beams at me as she skirts past and I can’t wipe the grin off my face.
I feel light, free, unburdened by my gift.
And then she stills in the doorway of the gym.
Her fists clench and I brace myself for the look of disappointment or judgement or fuck, disgust on her face she she slowly turns to me.
“Ho. Ly. Shit.” She stares at me wide eyed. “I fucking love it!” She launches herself at me and I have enough wits about me to catch her, my hands cupping her juicy ass, holding her tight to me as she throws her head back and cackles while Glenn curses behind us.
Her thick thighs tighten around my waist as she bounces with excitement in my hold.
I try to angle my hips back so she can’t feel the evidence of my arousal, but it’s no use.
My cock is rock hard in my pants and her heat rubbing directly over him isn’t helping.
The little minx knows it too because her laughter ceases, and her little bounces switch to rhythmic grinding as she circles her hips.
“Better make the most of it, witches. One of you will be dead soon,” Glenn says, voice laced with glee.
Kristie freezes, her eyes on mine before she spins her head to glare at Glenn’s naked ass in the air. “Lets eat, kill this fucker and then I’m going to let you split me like a log. Got it?”
I swallow thickly. Yeah, I think I got it.
Kristie
Well, if Dima is gonna die soon then I better make the most of our time together.
My gut clenches at the thought of him not being in the same world as me, but we both know how this will end.
It’s my curse. And I call it that because that’s what it is.
Where what Dima has is an absolute gift, the ability to reunite loved ones, what I have is destructive.
It destroys families, tears them apart. Probably why I leaned into it and became a hitwoman.
Not that I had much choice. When La Madrina took me in I was so desperate for connection, a family, that I would have done anything to be back in the Mancini fold.
Even though I was bounced around from family member to family member growing up, I was still kept safe within the confines of The Family.
Not as much as the other girls. There were no girls-only schools or special wife training for me.
They were probably worried that I’d die alone as no self-respecting capo would marry someone who brings death.
I probably will die alone as a spinster anyway because we all know that after this somewhat delicious meal, I’ll watch a hot guy ass rape a dude, then I’ll fuck him and he’ll probably be so blown away by my pussy he’ll likely die on the spot.
Or he’ll get hit by an errant bullet or a fat bird will hurtle out of the sky and land on his head knocking him to the ground with enough force that he’ll hit the pavement and crack his head open.
“What are you thinking so hard about?”
“An overweight bird falling from the sky, hitting you unawares. You falling to the ground, cracking your head open and dying on the pavement.”
He stares at me, blue eyes holding not a hint of judgement. “Has that, ah, happened to someone you know?”
I pluck deep fried shrimp from one of the take out boxes on the table and stuff it in my mouth so I don’t need to answer that question.
“Huh. What are the odds?”
I swallow my mouthful. “Higher than you might think,” I sigh.
He watches me thoughtfully as I shovel food into my face. Hey, I’ve not eaten since breakfast. If I don’t eat then how can I complain about thigh chafe in the summer?
“You know that none of that was your fault, right?”
I put my chopstick down and look at him like he’s an idiot.
“Are you saying that it’s not my fault that every single person that comes in long-term contact with me somehow dies through no fault of my own?
Dima, look, you’re a nice guy. You’ve known me for what?
” My eyes flick to the cuckoo clock on his wall.
“Six hours? That is nowhere near enough time to see what type of weird shit happens when I’m around.
Just saying.” I shrug, ignoring the pit in my stomach.