17. Beautiful People Ugly Souls
Beautiful People; Ugly Souls
Rez
Jules, as it turns out, is terrified of Hellhounds, even cute, adorable, fluffy ones with long tails that make themselves trip. He didn’t even allow me time to sit and say hi before he bounced and asked me to keep my fiery hound from Satan’s palace away from him.
Pfft, if he only knew how much Satan didn’t want my pet.
“It’s okay, Reaper.” I grab his head and kiss his snout.
“You are the cutest, most intellectual Hellhound ever.” He gives me a long, slobbering kiss, when suddenly he stills for a split second.
Before I can question his action, his jowls peel back, showing his incisors slowly growing as a growl rolls out of him.
His flames along his mane flare brighter, but don’t burn my skin.
Standing, I spring around, but stop myself from reaching for my glaives.
I don’t want to give away my hiding spots if I don’t need to.
Besides, there shouldn’t be anyone I need to defend against here, despite the missing student—oh wait, she’s not missing, she was dinner.
As I regard my guest, I take back my last thoughts. I’m surrounded by people who want my head on a platter. This Harpy is at the top of that list.
“Nerezza,” Emer purrs with a ‘gotcha’ look. “This is my father, King Elverson,” she says with pride.
As I swing my eyes to him, my sight slightly blurs, and the edges of my vision turn gray.
Movements slow as I watch King Elverson reach out his hand for me to shake it.
This is nothing like my normal visions or whatever Knox calls them.
The picture is sharp, but at the same time I feel like I have cotton encasing my senses, dulling the colors and sounds, along with my touch.
This one, the picture is glitchy, like Grandma's old TV, where I have to use antique rabbit ears to try to get a station to show up.
I see myself reaching out and taking his hand, only to get pinched by a small needle hidden in his shirt sleeve.
As I sway, he calls for guards to restrain me as I lunge for him.
Elverson takes out his hidden sword, stabbing Reaper through the chest as he tries to protect me.
I scream as Reaper gets up and tries again, but this time, the fucking asshole beheads Reaper, and Emer laughs as I’m dragged away.
Blinking, the picture and color clear up, and I find King Elverson’s hand fully extended in front of me.
Uninterested in the pending outcome I’ve just forewarned of, I pivot and take a different path.
Instead of taking his hand, I make a point of taking in the King’s attire—dark silver pants and boots, a silver tunic, and a black cape with blood-red inner lining.
Very old-fashioned. When I reach his eyes, I take a massive step back while keeping eye contact.
“What the fuck? How dare—” Emer shrieks, but her father’s hand shoots up to stop her mid-tantrum, and I bite my tongue to keep from smiling.
“You must have missed etiquette classes when you were younger. Let me refresh your memory, it's polite to shake hands when greeting someone. Or in cases of royalty,” he indicates himself by slightly sweeping his arms to himself, “you bow,” he scolds me.
I know exactly how to act around my peers or those older than me.
I might have been raised as a human, but my family taught me manners.
The problem is, this asshole doesn’t deserve to be treated with any.
Levi and the others might feel as though they have to because of their parents, but I have no qualms with treating this guy exactly how I feel, along with his venomous daughter.
“That would be correct,” I say while slowly smiling. “If I were showing respect or welcoming you.” I bat my eyelashes, not taking my gaze off the bigger threat in front of me, even though I can hear Emer gasping in shock.
“You know, not many have dared to defy me,” King Elverson tells me. He shifts, taking a wider stance as he looks down at me.
Accessing for what? I have no clue, but Reaper yips and Elverson’s eyes flash with disdain towards my fiery guard.
“He’s an abomination and should be put down,” he simply states and reaches inside his cape.
The glint of his sword is all I see before stepping in front of Reaper and taking up a defensive stance in front of my baby.
“I wouldn’t try, if I were you,” I say calmly.
He gives me a dismissive smile as he scrutinizes me. I’m sure I look puny to him, all frills, as my hands are covered in my sheer fabric, my hair done up, and I’m in fancy boots. But what he doesn’t know is my glaives are already out and hidden in that fabric, and I’m ready to pounce once he moves.
He takes one step, and I counterstep as I watch to see where his weight will shift.
“Nerezza! There you are!” Reaper barks wildly and jumps, breaking the tension as my father runs up to us. King Elverson quickly sheaths his sword as I deactivate my glaives. “Oh. Hello, King Elverson, Princess Emer,” my father greets them, but I notice he doesn’t touch them either.
Smart man.
“Delvin.” King Elverson nods and looks between us, categorizing our similarities: our gray eyes, sepia skin tone, and brunette hair. “What is your relationship with this student?” he asks, wrinkling his nose in disgust as if he suddenly finds my presence foul.
“She’s my daughter,” Dad says simply with bass in his tone and fire in his eyes.
“I didn’t know Nerezza was your daughter,” he accuses and gives me another once-over. “She looks nothing like you.”
Rude! Especially when he just took the time to look us over, you can easily see a resemblance. Asshole.
“Would that knowledge change the way you treat her?” he causally asks, pointedly looking at the King’s cape where he has his sword hidden once again.
How does Dad know him, or what is their history, I wonder?
A slight flicker of a smile appears on Elverson’s lip that I almost miss before he answers.
“You of all things should know; if I see trash, I deal with it as trash.” He sneers before he turns and walks off with Emer sputtering behind him.
“But Daddy…”
Dad turns to me, looking a slight shade lighter, and takes a deep breath before grabbing me by the shoulders and leaning down into my line of sight.
“Do not go anywhere with that man alone. He is not safe, do you understand me?” His hands squeeze too hard, causing some pain.
“Yeah, I got that from my vision, but what did he mean by ‘you of all things should know’? What’s your history with him?” I ask, throwing it back in his face. He lets up on my shoulders and runs his hand through his hair.
Gesturing to a stand of trees, he leads me to a small bench where we sit, and he places a spell so we can talk.
“King Elverson is as evil as they come, and I didn’t see it or take the warnings as seriously as I should have.
I ended up in debt to him, and one day I was called in to pay one of my debts.
That day, I was asked—no, demanded to help take out his ‘trash’.
” Dad’s voice wavers, and my stomach bottoms out.
Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.
“That was the day his parents and brother were murdered, and he became heir.”
The fact that Dad can’t look at me right now is damning enough, but through watery eyes, I stare at him and find I have to know more. I need to know if he really did everything that’s running through my head.
“Did you have a choice?” I ask, dreading the answer.
“I was bound.” His words are like ice as they stab me and steal my breath. “Nerezza.” He cups my face and tries to get me to look at him, but all I can think is that his hands are those of a murderer. They are covered in blood.
‘But yours are no better. How many enemies have you killed in the name of good, honor, or need? He had no choice, you did,’ the elusive voice within me speaks up, and my body starts shaking uncontrollably at her truth.
“Shock,” Dad whispers. “You’re going through shock.
” I’m barely aware of the words falling from him as heat wraps around me as if a warm blanket has engulfed me with an eternal hug, and my body slowly stops shaking.
He rubs his hands up and down my arms and frowns when he pulls my sleeves back to see my wrist guards. “You’re armed?
His question finally pulls me out of my daze, and I have more pressing questions than answering his.
“Nah, Dad. I thought I would just come to a buffet of would-be killers without protection, especially when my magic is on the fucking fritz. That sounded like an even better idea than a tea party with the Mad Hatter when he’s on LSD.
Now, you said you were bound. Does that mean you’re not anymore?
” I plead with him, grabbing his hands and holding tight. I need to know.
“He has not called on the debt since his son, which should have been my last task.” His words ring true, but my gut is still a tornado of red flags at a bull party.
He squeezes my fingers, and his brows pinch with worry.
“Your nerves are a wreck, sweetheart. Look, you won’t do yourself any good here. Besides, I heard L.A.M.B. is already backing you, so you’re good. You should go home and rest while you can.” He makes a compelling argument that makes too much sense.
“You’re right.” I hang my head in defeat, but reach for my phone in my pocket.
Hey, I’m headed back 2 the dorms. Reaper’s w me.
Bestie: Okay
Chester: Be careful
Playboy: C U B @ Dorms Ma Cherie
Jokester: Another sleepover? Yay!
Playboy: Ur insatiable
Jokester: U know it
Beast: Want me to come 2
Thx. I’m good tho.