31. Knock-Knock little Death’s here
Nevaeh
I squint to peek inside a window on the rustic two-floor log house at the tip of the not-really-there mountain.
The thick layer of dust on the window makes it difficult to study the layout, and since my Divine is currently taking a nap, it’s more complicated to sense a presence inside. I pity the warlock, while we still have our senses and strength to depend on, without his precious magic the man is toast.
Hazel suddenly blocks my view inside the unkempt house by coming to stand before me and staring at me expectantly. I have no clue what the crazy siren wants until she waves a thick pair of fingerless gloves in front of my face, rolling her eyes.
So much attitude from such an innocent face.
I grab the gloves from her, assuming she’ll turn around and leave, but she surprises me by staying. We do this a lot nowadays—sharing silence. I think it’s comforting for her to know someone understands the ache in her soul without her having to put it on display.
Soon Harvey rounds back from scanning the area and confirms it’s not a trap. Our time crunch might be an issue in this realm, but the main problem is our lack of knowledge.
We have no idea what kind of creatures are stuck in this realm and for what reason. Being quiet and quick will ensure we get out of here without encountering some ancient species that was trapped here thousands of years ago and wants food... i.e., us .
We march towards the house like it’s our cousin’s vacation house, and I’m about to kick the door down when Harvey pushes me aside to crouch in front of the keyhole.
A quiet click echoes through the air, and I discover my best friend— even if a complete dumbass —picked up a few things from those sly humans.
Hazel’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline in surprise, “And here I thought you were nothing but muscle.”
“Can we leave her in the water before going home?” Harvey pleads with Angel, who shakes his head with a sympathetic smile.
Hazel picking on people is my favorite thing ever. Especially when I’m not the target. The soul siblings start fighting over who will win in some random ass scenarios that has nothing to do with our reality.
I want to go home sooner rather than never, so I push them apart and stride in. “Come out, come out wherever you are!” My voice sings through the house, followed by a crash.
Turning back, I hiss at Seiji who is carefully stepping over the mess he made on the floor with a sheepish smile. In the split second I walked in, Seiji managed to crash into the door— don’t ask me how —and broke a vase sitting by the door.
Why might one ask? Because he was busy enjoying his milkshake, that’s why.
Angel breathes through his annoyance and inhales his anger. The nerve near his hairline twitches and I’m afraid one day it will explode if he keeps surrounding himself with the likes of us.
Asking for Hazel’s bag, Angel pulls out a thick cloth and throws it over the mess so no one will slip and break their neck.
We take turns swatting Seiji on his head before Harvey pulls him up the stairs. They are as quiet as August is on the nights he sneaks into our room to climb between Angel and me after something spooked him.
I still don't understand why Micah chose this place instead of going to the numerous allies who would’ve helped him simply because they hated the Horsemen.
It’s not long before Micah is dragged down kicking and screaming. Where I would’ve loved a chase, Harvey binds him to a chair and doesn’t resist the urge to pull the first few punches.
When Micah lifts his head with blood dripping down his cracked lips to see his captors, his gaze locks on me. Struggling to form words, he pales like a man who knows his time is limited.
“Don’t look into her eyes or that’s where she’ll start.” Seiji shivers at the thought and plops down on the white leather sofa. Micah made the mistake of making this place look like the pearly gates of Heaven with all the white furniture. Once I’m done with him, this entire place will be covered in red.
“You seem familiar. Oh, now I remember. Aren’t you the warlock who dragged my son into that disgusting dungeon by his hair?” I don’t pull the punch that cracks his nose followed by broken wails.
This has been a long time coming.
“Use your words, sweetheart.” Angel interrupts my next punch.
“Why? My fists are much more capable.”
A dagger appears before me, and my head snaps to Hazel. She’s giving me one of her sharpest weapons—her favorite one. When the haunted look in my eyes reflects in hers, it’s hard to tell which one of us is mirroring the other’s pain.
Flipping the dagger once, I relish in the genuine fear swirling in the coward’s eyes, but once again, Angel shits on my parade. “You promised information.” He reminds me before I slip and give in to the intense need to carve this man from the inside out.
“Fine… only light stabbing then. Don’t worry Micah, I’ll take excellent care of you.” Chuckling, I stab the dagger into his thigh. His scream echoes as I wait for Micah to calm down so I can drag the information Anxo needs out of him before actually enjoying my prey.
In times like this, I am forced to admit how comfortable I am with creating pain. Sometimes it scares me what I’ve become, but they did this to me. Every torture technique I know is their gift. Whatever I am today is what they made me.
They expected me to be a monster, so they turned me into one.
About half an hour later, Micah has a couple broken of bones and I’ve retrieved everything Angel needs from this man. We have what we came here for. Locations of other high-ranking warriors—all except the dark queen herself. She remains hidden while her people pay for her sins. What a leader .
I know what the witch is capable of more than anyone, and I have this gut-twisting hunch that she’s up to something... something I can’t see even when it’s right in front of me.
I’m about to ask Angel if I’m finally free to do as I please when a loud thud stops me. Turning away from Micah, I find Seiji flat on the ground with a banana peel crushed beneath his leg. Everyone bursts out laughing, and from the corner of my eye, I see Harvey recording the entire ordeal.
Using their distraction in my favor, I swiftly move my dagger to cut off all the fingers on the warlock’s left hand in a single move. The attention immediately shifts back to the man screaming through the gag in his mouth.
He just can’t shut up today.
“Nevaeh—” Angel tries to interfere, but I raise my hand dripping with the warlock’s blood to halt his approach.
“I’ve waited long enough.”
I do the same with Micah’s other hand, only much slower this time to make the pain last longer. Next, I carve his chest and internally praise myself for the fine artwork.
‘S-C-A-R-E-D Y-E-T?’
I knew the words would trigger Angel. He has seen those exact words on my thigh. The words that became a scar— a permanent scar .
The night he found me rocking back and forth on our bathroom floor still haunts him. I wanted to burn my flesh or slice that piece of my skin to erase the reminder of my time in that cell, but there was no way Angel would let me do that to myself.
That night my mate saw just how broken Nevaeh Blackburn was. He witnessed me break down in his arms, and instead of leaving me on the floor, he gently collected my pieces and held on to them until I was ready to be glued back together.
When he saw, how much that scar bothered me, Angel took me to Grace. My sister quickly whipped out a potion that could help but it came with a price.
The medicine burned hotter than hell and took hours for the pain to become tolerable. The scar faded more and more each day until I was free of the mark and the memory it carried.
Grace had secretly started working on a rare potion since the day she met Harvey. She wanted to be prepared in case the markings from Fates triggered Harvey or made his old bruises flare up. Fortunately, Fates took pity on Harvey and freed him of every scar that reminded him he was ever alone or broken.
Grace offered to make me more, but the pain you experience as the potion works is eerily familiar to how I got those scars. No amount of scar-free skin was worth revisiting that pain over and over again.
Angel doesn’t intervene anymore, but it doesn’t stop him from standing right behind me in case I need him.
“You remember that night, don't you Micah? The night you carved my worst fears on me, asked me to beg for your mercy?” Grabbing his bloody cheeks, I squeeze until I hear his cheekbones crack. “Your turn to beg. Beg like I did, ask for mercy even when you know it won't save you. Beg or I’m going to continue carving you like a piece of wood,” I sneer.
“You are an… an abomination made to r-ruin my kind. I w-warned the Queen to let me deal with you but she wanted you alive.”
I can’t say I don’t admire his lack of survival skills because it gives me a chance to drag this on. He doesn't realize it, but the hatred in his eyes is only making this easier for me.
“Like you tried to deal with me that night?”
The silence behind me worries me if I’ve said too much, but if I don’t lay it all out today, I won’t get another chance to. I can’t move on until I've put my past in the grave once and for all. I refuse to let the shadows of my past steal the light from my future.
Micah smirks with his bloody teeth on the display and the courage of a dying man. “I almost had you. I could’ve taken what I wanted if it weren’t for the boy.”
I grit my teeth, thinking about that night. Flashes of fear and desperation start bleeding into my present.
A shuffling sound behind me makes me glance at Hazel now sitting on the floor with all her daggers laid out. It makes my stomach warm to see she’s waiting for my signal to unleash the rage hidden behind her calm exterior.
When I ask her for a spoon instead, she looks at me baffled before handing it over with a sly smirk.
I’ve been where Micah is and all he did was enjoy the show like a coward, never once meeting my eyes. So I use the cold steel spoon to scoop an eyeball— or two .
I memorize the terror on Micah’s face and the pain in his eyes, hoping they will replace the memory of his touch.
I pull the gag down, itching to hear him plead for his life before I end it because no matter what his last words are, I didn’t come here to forgive. I came here to forget .
“I-I’m s-sorry… I s-shouldn't h-have... I will leave... a-anything you want… p- please… I-I’m so-sorry…”
With his last words, I step behind him to avoid the splashes of his blood when I slice his neck. Slowly. Hearing him choke on his blood is music to my ears before I cover his mouth with the gag to make the process even more agonizing.
I'm sure I look like a maniac with a satisfied smile on my face and blood on me, but the memories of that night hurt a little less now. After what he tried, I don’t regret a single thing I did to this filthy man.
“You’re too scary sometimes. Even for me.” Harvey breaks me out of my head, nodding at me slightly. His relaxed grin assures me it’s over now. I can finally bury this part of my past and never look back.
Harvey understands the importance of this moment because, after all, he was there that night. I will be forever grateful he gained consciousness when he did. He saved me from something that would’ve forced me in a direction where meeting Angel and having a family would’ve been a faraway dream.
As Angel strides toward me, I’m eager to be wrapped in his arms when I hear it.
Marching troops.
Motherfuc—