CHAPTER FOUR #2
Wyatt couldn't comprehend what he was seeing and hearing.
He looked sharply from Atticus to the drinking glass and then back to Atticus.
"Poison." He forced the word through his teeth as his heart began to erupt.
"There was poison in the glass." He spoke a little louder, his eyes going wild.
Atticus looked at him now, and his expression tightened; it was no longer sadness; it was panic.
Wyatt tore out of the room, taking the outer door off its hinges as he blew through it. Atticus was behind him, and he was saying something, but Wyatt was filled with a white-hot fury that nothing but blood and vengeance would appease.
The drink was made in the kitchen, and one of the servers had delivered it to the watchtower room. His vampire speed had him flying into the kitchen within seconds and finding the server who had delivered the toxic drink.
"You tried to kill him! I'm going to kill you!
" He shouted, and the room quaked. He grabbed the man by the back of his neck and threw him across the room, smashing him into the wall, destroying the plaster and stone.
The vampire struggled to his feet, but Wyatt was already there, grabbing him by his throat and slamming him into the floor.
"Why did you do it? Tell me, or I'll rip your head off, and then I'll kill every member of your family.
Answer me, or I'll kill everyone you care about.
" Several in the kitchen jumped on Wyatt and tried to loosen his grip, but he was raging, and nothing was stopping him.
He threw off the man on his back, and he broke both of his arms in the process.
"You have no right to be protecting that abomination; he should not be under our roof.
The Necromancer deserves to die. They're nothing but filthy animals.
" The shout came from a man standing a few feet away, and Wyatt was on him in an instant, beating the piss out of him.
The kitchen was a shambles, and the injuries were stacking up.
He took hold of the loudmouth and dragged him over to the sink, plunging his head under the hot, soapy water and holding it there.
"Got a loudmouth on you; let's see if you can talk underwater.
It is you who deserves to die, you filthy monster.
" He then rammed his head against the bottom of the deep sink, nearly submerging the entire man.
"Let him up; you'll kill him." A woman yelled out from across the room.
Wyatt shot her a stare that had her abandoning her desire to help and instead running from the room.
He then pulled the man from the sink, choking and gasping, and threw him at the window, shattering the large picture window over the prep tables.
The server who brought the drink was trying to escape out the door to the kitchen garden when Wyatt hooked him by the ankle and tossed him violently against the wall of ovens. A loud crack reverberated through the room.
It was utter chaos, a complete meltdown, and Wyatt was going to kill someone.
He needed to kill; he had to bring retribution; he had to make them pay.
There was blood, plenty of blood, and pain, but he needed to give them death.
He needed to feel what they received, what they dared to inflict on his most precious.
The loudmouth and the server, he had them both, and they were screaming, and it was glorious. "Who fed him poison?" He yelled and grabbed the bleach off the shelf and began pouring it on the server, opening his mouth and forcing him to drink.
Chef Reid burst into the kitchen, panic and confusion filling the room. His two beloveds, Luke and Riall, the raven brothers, were beside him. Master DuCane rushed in from the other side of the kitchen, but it was Atticus who reached Wyatt first.
"Wyatt, stop." Atticus was behind him, and he laid his hand on Wyatt's shoulder, instantly bringing the man to a standstill.
Wyatt felt his touch, and it radiated through him, commanding and controlling.
He dropped the bleach but did not release the man, who lay on the floor gasping for breath and screaming in pain.
Everyone came to a sudden stop and stared at the man struggling to bring himself under control and at the man behind him, holding him with one hand on his shoulder, who seemed to hold all the power.
The loudmouth tried to slip away, but Master DuCane saw through him instantly and took him by the throat, holding him in place while he surveyed the room.
"Wyatt, tell me why you have destroyed Chef Reid's kitchen.
" The Master spoke to Wyatt as the rest of the room remained suddenly eerily still in the midst of the destruction.
"They tried to kill my beloved. I ordered a drink for him, and they sent me poison." Wyatt reached up and placed his hand over Atticus' hand, desperation bleeding into his touch.
“Who?” The Master’s tone was lethal and absolute.
"This one and the one you are holding, and there may be more involved. The poison drink came from here." Wyatt indicated the kitchen and tried to control his tone, but his anger was seething; he wanted them dead. He needed them dead.
“Are you okay, Atticus?” The Master asked.
“Yes, the hemlock they used does not work on me.”
"If he were anyone other than a powerful necromancer, he would be dead.
No other being would have survived what they did.
" Wyatt shouted, making himself very clear as he stared down at the man he had pinned to the floor.
"This is the one who brought it to the watchtower, handed it to me with a smile, and walked away.
He knew what he had given me, and he smiled. "