Chapter 18 #3
His eyes flare wide, the rest of his statement a wet gurgle as warm blood splatters across my face and chest. He drops my arm to clutch his throat, fingers drowning in a sea of red.
Behind him, a figure breaks away from the silver mist, wiping the bloody blade on the man’s shirt sleeve before sheathing it at his hip.
With a kick to the back of the knees, the man drops like a sack of potatoes onto the floor, gasping and feebly scrabbling at the gash on his throat, a growing puddle of blood spreading beneath him that I hastily step back to avoid.
The less evidence that puts me at the scene of a murder, the better.
And I sure as shit don’t want to risk anyone that comes looking for this guy being able to track me down for revenge.
It’s already going to be a challenge to get out of here without drawing attention to myself now that I’m wearing blood like body paint.
But as soon as I get a look at the person that saved my ass, all of those fears turn into white noise.
Vic looks nearly the same as I remember.
Bright teal eyes that see far too much, a scar slashed across one that only adds to his appeal.
He’s still wearing his trademark black t-shirt and military pants, the air around him radiating with deadly energy.
The only difference is he cut his hair, and it’s completely silvery-blue now.
It suits him, makes him look like even the assassins under his command call him Daddy Knight.
Why’s it always the assholes that get hotter with age?
Pretty fucking rude, if you ask me. He could at least be considerate enough to have a mid-life crisis and get a bad dye job before showing his face for the first time in months.
But noooooooooo, he has to be just as hot as the day we met, the jerk.
Because honestly… it hurts worse than I want to admit that I don’t affect him the same way he does me. Nothing on his face says he’s surprised to see me after all these months, let alone is happy about it. Oh no. If anything, he looks pissed.
Jaw clenched, he lifts my arm, manhandling me -albeit, carefully- to inspect the finger shaped bruises rapidly forming around my forearm where the guy grabbed me. His furious gaze snaps up to mine. “What the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Mercy Ridge.”
That restarts my brain, all of the white noise officially drowned out by a tidal wave of rage. Scowling, I yank my arm free and steal the dead guy’s keys, sifting through them for the one to Yukina’s cage.
“Is that why this place looks different? Huh, who would’ve thought. Guess I’ll head back home, then. Out of sight, out of mind, before I ruin your day again, right?”
He frowns, head cocked, but shakes himself out of saying whatever was on the tip of his tongue. Heaven forbid he waste any more time forced to acknowledge I exist. “Let me take you both home, we’ll work it out once you’re safe.”
Yukina skittishly scurries back, attention swinging nervously between the two of us, and my heart breaks a little at whatever this poor woman went through. Shoving Vic’s shoulder so he isn’t in front of the open cage door, I drop to a crouch and soften my expression.
“Hey, it’s fine, I know this guy.” Mumbling under my breath, I add, “Unfortunately.” Ignoring the ‘seriously?’ look from Vic, I hold my hands out in front of me, palms up, and crook my fingers in a ‘come on’ motion to coax her out.
“He may look scary, but trust me, he’s nothing like the people that took you.
You saw the way he slit that pervert’s throat before he even knew there was someone else in the room?
That’s Havoc’s specialty; fucking things up and disappearing without a trace. ”
I pointedly ignore the stare burning a hole in the side of my head as Yukina finds her courage and takes a tentative step, then another, and leaps into my arms. I let her cuddle against my chest as I rise to my feet, cringing as I realize my mistake.
Her pristine white fur is stained red now, the blood darker than her ear and tail tips and too obvious to pass off.
Anyone that looks at her will assume she tore a hunk out of someone’s flesh and think she’s feral.
They’ll lock her up until realizing they read the situation wrong, and-
Nope, not on my watch. Yukina’s never setting foot in a cage again, precautions be damned. They’ll have to go through me first.
Taking a page out of her book, I muster up the courage to finally face Havoc head on and ask, “How’d you even know to look for me here?”
When he immediately stills, I get all the answer I need. Scoffing, I start walking toward the stack of crates. “Right, you didn’t come looking for me, you were here to deal with the traffickers. Well, don’t let me stop you.”
He falls into step beside me with a scowl of his own. “You can’t go wandering off, Kiara, it’s dangerous. It’s what I was on my way to Mercy Ridge to tell you; we need to move you, it’s not safe there anymore.”
My eye twitches, but I play it off with a blas?, “Cool, what is it this time? A stalker? Rogue dragon? Can’t be human traffickers, they’re apparently hanging out at pet expos now.
Oh, maybe an evil band of pirates that want to force bond a mimic-healer hybrid for the power boost and to prevent scurvy?
That’d be a fun story to tell at parties. ”
He grips my upper arm to force me to stop walking away and growls, “This isn't a joke.”
“Of course not. I spend every day knowing damn well that half the world wants me for the wrong reasons, but hey, at least they want me.”
His fingers flex on my bicep. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Never mind.” It’s easy to break free from him; it’s not like he’s trying to hurt me. At least, not physically. Emotional damage is just a fun consolation prize that comes with every Havoc Knight interaction.
As I climb the stack of crates and stretch up on my tiptoes to set Yukina down inside the open hole of the air duct, prepared to follow her in, Vic’s words make me pause. “You think I don't want you? Seriously?”
When I glance down at him, he’s staring at me like I just told him I like to riverdance naked in the moonlight for Twizzlers instead of money.
Incredulous, questioning my sanity, and lowkey praying I’m bullshitting him.
I get that; they’re like chewing on cherry HDMI cords.
Not my thing, but who am I to kink shame?
Most of my book boyfriends are serial killers because I’m attracted to borderline crazy levels of obsession and commitment.
I’m a simple girl. I just want to be wanted to the point a man would bring me a bouquet of severed fingers from every person that ever touched me before him. It’s the thought that counts.
“You spent less than five minutes with me before deciding I wasn't worth keeping around and sent me away without so much as a goodbye, let alone a godsdamned reason.” My voice cracks as I swallow down the desire to cry. He doesn’t deserve my tears.
“Finding my fated mate was all I’d ever dreamed of.
Of meeting the person that wasn’t perfect, but was perfect for me.
That wouldn’t care that I was damaged goods, because being happy and in love was more important than what abilities I have to offer.
And then you saved me from a stray bullet and looked at me like I was something precious for all of five seconds before you realized I wasn’t worth the trouble and abandoned me.
Pawned me off on your son to deal with.”
Silver mist rises off his skin, blurring his features as he gapes at me, frozen.
“That's not... didn't you get my lett-” Voices on the other side of the door to the storeroom reach us and he tenses, knife in his hand before I ever saw him reach for it.
Yukina yips, anxiously pacing in the vent and encouraging me to follow her to safety.
All the fight drains out of me until I’m not even angry at him anymore, just… disappointed. And realizing that no matter how hard you cling to hopes and dreams, sometimes they simply aren’t meant to come true.
“Just leave me alone, Havoc. It’s what you’re best at.”