Chapter 17 Aniyah
ANIYAH
Whoever planned this was going to pay.
My fingers twitched on the trigger, the burn at my fingertips echoing the rage in my blood. My thoughts spiraled, tight, sharp, vicious.
No one stormed into my club, threatened my people, and walked away unscathed.
I’d make them bleed. I’d savor their screams, let their pleas ring in my ears as their blood painted my cheek. Death wouldn’t touch them until I got what I was owed, plus interest.
My watch buzzed. I glanced down.
E: What is going on?
E: Aniyah.
Fuck. Why was she always on top of everything?
I hit reply, my voice clipped as I spoke into the watch. “I'm handling it. Answers coming soon.”
Just as I pressed send, a reply came through.
E: It better.
E: You’ve got one hour.
“Shit.” The weight of her expectation slammed into me, making my certainty waver. Did I miscalculate? Should I have brought Alic? What if one of the members got hurt? The damage to the building? The Syndicate’s reputation?
A warm hand pressed against my shoulder, then Lucus’ accented voice, low, rich, sinfully calm, slid down my spine.
“You’ve got this. The plan is solid.”
Something clicked into place. My grip on the weapon steadied, anxiety bleeding out with each breath. I was Aniyah Glovefox, daughter of the Syndicate. If it all went to hell, I’d claw my way back from the wreckage and cause havoc in the worst way.
I ran my hand up his chest, curled my fingers into his shirt, and yanked him down to me. Our mouths collided, sharp, possessive, grounding. It was a reward for his faith, yes, but also a reclamation of myself, reminding me who I was.
My tongue swept past his lips, claiming, devouring. His hands slid down my back, the cool feel of steel through the silk jarring me back to the situation at hand. We had work to do.
Flattening my palms against his chest, I shoved him back before I lost focus.
“Thanks,” I breathed, turning toward the chaos waiting beyond those doors.
Another figure slipped into my orbit, the air around him thick with need.
“I’m here,” he murmured. A hint of shadowed despair clung to his voice. “For anything you need. Anything and everything. Just say the word.”
I turned slowly. Raven hair tumbled into glowing crimson eyes that were locked on mine like I was the sun he’d spent centuries chasing. Every alarm inside me screamed danger, but gods, the way he looked at me… I was starting to get addicted.
It was unsettling and… kind of adorable?
I patted his head, and his eyes fluttered shut like I’d just handed him a miracle.
“Thank you, Ras.”
He bit his lower lip, gaze sweeping over my face, committing every moment to memory. It was intense. Worshipful. Familiar.
It reminded me of the way Daddy Lex looked at my mom, starving just to be near her. By her side for an eternity.
The memory sent a shiver through me. My skin prickled, breath caught in my chest and I realized… I liked it. What did that say about me?
“From what I saw before, they’ve got about thirty men scattered across the floor.” I turned to Lucus. “I need you to pick up Ras and run him across the room to the control unit. You helped install that thing, right?”
Ras gave a curt nod, throwing Lucus a glare before turning back to me with a smile.
See? Puppy dog energy.
I rolled my lips in to hide the laugh bubbling up. “I hate to admit it,” I said, “but I don’t know how to work the damn thing. What I do know is that one of those million switches controls the anti-gravity tech, and it can be programmed to target specific people.”
Lucus’ brows pinched together while Ras nodded, fully onboard. I waved Lucus off before he could start questioning me.
“I had this idea,” I said casually, “for a high-ticket event. Something like a mid-air fuck session, of course for a—”
“Fee,” Lucus finished for me, head tilting as admiration lit up his face. “Yeah, I figured. I’d love to sign up for that later.” He stepped closer, his fingers trailing the edge of my robe. “Maybe make it a private showing.”
I opened my mouth to sass him back, but he smirked. “I’ll pay extra.”
Of course, he would.
“I know how to program it,” Ras piped in, glancing between me and the doors as he wrung his hands. “But I need a few minutes to get it set up.”
I slung the gun strap over my shoulder, freeing my hands, and gave him a radiant smile. “Lucus will cover you. He’ll make sure no one lays a finger on you.”
Their faces dropped in sync as if they’d just realized I’d assigned them homework and stolen all the fun, but I beamed, practically bouncing. “While you two are busy being useful, I’ll be the distraction. I’m very good at that.”
Lucus puffed his chest out, arms crossing in a silent protest. Ras’ gaze darkened, jaw tight. They were giving me the classic “That's too dangerous, little lady” energy. Yeah, they were going to have to get over that.
I shut it down with a single pointed finger aimed between them.
“If you don’t want to be sent packing, you better drop that macho crap real fast.” Both of them grumbled their apologies and how they would rather die than leave my side, so I let it go.
Running my hands down my curves, lifting my breasts with just enough flair, I let my wings unfurl behind me. Flashy. Flawless. Lethal.
Then I shoved them aside, barreling through them with a smirk. “Once I’m in, you run. Don’t think, don’t wait. Move.”
I tapped my AK lovingly. “Once they’re floating, this baby will do the rest. It’ll be like pulling butt plugs out of assholes.”
I winked. “Easy pickings.”
Both men gave me a curt nod. Lucus grabbed the front of Ras’ shirt, yanking him into motion, and when the demon spoke, his voice was cool as frost. “Touch me without permission again, and I’ll rip your spine out.”
Lucus glared down at him. “It’s for Aniyah. Shut the fuck up.”
I chuckled under my breath. Aww, look at them, bonding like homicidal toddlers.
“Ready.” My palm pressed to the door, and the familiar coils of power stirred in my gut, slithering upward like a waking beast.
“Set.” They nodded. My magic spun wild in my stomach, desperate to be freed, to claim, to consume.
“GO!”
I flung the door open. A blast of hot air rushed past me, then stillness.
A dozen gunmen turned, raising their weapons, but they were too late.
I detonated.
Power surged out of me like a shockwave. The floor trembled beneath my heels. One man dropped his gun and fell to his knees, sobbing. Another tore off his mask, revealing sweat-matted blond curls and eyes that were glassy with devotion.
“I just… I wanna kiss your feet,” he mumbled.
Some tried to resist. Their arms trembled, jaws clenched as they tried to hold their aim, but their fingers wouldn’t move. They were trapped in my thrall, fighting their own bodies, but it was futile.
No matter how strong they were, they always lost. I had the blood of fairy royalty, and no one could resist without extensive training by someone of equal power.
I stalked up to the one kneeling first, spotting the hilt of a blade tucked in his boot. I cupped his tear-streaked face, soothing him with a, “Shhh.”
I bent down, fingers closing around the handle, and smiled up at him. His face transformed from a sobbing mess to a pleading reverence right before I shoved the blade into his chest, twisting it to make sure I got the heart.
His eyes snapped clear for just a moment. My magic didn’t work on the dead, and I blew him a kiss before he fell over.
*Game on.
I flew forward, dancing through the chaos as power poured from me in waves. Each time I touched someone, their reality fractured. Some saw lost lovers. Others dropped to their knees, reaching out to hallucinations of hope and desire. None of them realized they were dying until the end.
I painted the floor with blood. My hands. My chest. My wings.
Shots echoed from somewhere near the shielded section, but I didn’t care. I was too deep in it, moving through memories not my own, twisting them like strings, guiding them toward sweet, perfect endings.
Each death was a lie. A beautiful one. Delivered by me.
Dancing toward my next victim, a shot cracked nearby. Pain lanced through my upper arm, and I hissed at the contact. My eyes snapped to the shooter. They were far away enough to resist my power, but not far enough to escape it once my complete attention was directed at them.
I focused, preparing to drop him, but suddenly, every one of them lifted off the ground.
Suspended, they scrambled and screamed in confusion. Ras and Lucus had succeeded.
A grin broke across my face.
With no hesitation, my wings snapped shut, and I spun my AK off my shoulder. My fingers gripped my weapon, its power under my control as I laughed and sprayed bullets into the air, hitting as many bodies as I could.
“You thought you could take me down?!”
Brrap. Brrap. Brrap.
“You messed with the wrong fucking bitch!”
Brrap. Brrap. Brrap.
“Don’t fuck with House Glovefox!”
Brrap. Brrap. Brrap.
“Don’t fuck with the Syndicate!”
Brrap. Brrap. Brrap.
Chests ruptured midair, ribs splintering into shrapnel as heart-seeking rounds tore through flesh and bone with cruel efficiency.
Blood sprayed in arcs, thick and glistening, painting the air in ruby rain.
The droplets fell as both an omen and an offering, warm, wet proof that the Syndicate reigned supreme.
Every soul in the room was taught what it meant to go against me, against the Syndicate. They were baptized in blood and fear.
When all that was left were limp bodies hanging in midair like grotesque marionettes, I called out, “Drop them, Ras!”
The rune magic hummed, then fizzled through the air like static breaking.
Bodies crashed down around me in sickening thuds, some bones snapping, some heads rolling, all of it a testament to the Syndicate's wrath. Members were still huddled beneath tables and pressed into corners, bloodied but breathing. I could feel the shift in the room’s energy as their fear thinned out, relief just beginning to seep in.