Chapter 17
My focus drifts everywhere except the meeting I’m in, my fingers drumming on the wooden desk’s surface.
The annoyance in Thomas’s eyes is clear, and it’s the only reason I don’t let up.
Making him suffer brings me joy, even if it’s like this.
Besides, he insisted on going over the final details for my trip in a few days, even though I flatly refused.
He countered by inviting William to join us, claiming it would be good for his son to learn.
He knew all too well that meant I would have no choice but to indulge him.
To his credit, William is eager to learn, absorbing information like a sponge.
He definitely has potential, and I’m certain he’ll make a perfect right-hand man—especially given how he handled that situation a few days ago.
If he doesn’t mind whatever I might end up doing with or to his parents, assuming he isn’t involved.
Which brings me back to the pressing question of what I’m going to do about them.
“Alright, that’s enough,” I say, rising from my chair and effectively cutting Thomas off mid-sentence.
“I have complete confidence that William is up to speed. I still have other matters to attend to before I leave, so if you’ll excuse me.
” William nods at me, and I take that as my cue to leave without waiting for whatever else Thomas has to say.
As I walk through the hallway toward my office, something tugs at my magic.
It might be nothing, but with everything that’s been happening lately, I’d rather not take the chance.
I let it guide me and take the elevator down to the lowest basement level.
The door dings open, and I instantly know something is wrong.
On silent feet, I hurry to the room where Andrei is kept.
The door to the room stands slightly ajar, and my magic reaches out, finding Tomyla inside, knocked out in a corner.
I direct more of my magic to take stock of the situation.
Two assassins, it seems, and Andrei is still alive but clearly not for much longer.
The sound of flesh being pierced and ripped apart reaches me, followed by Andrei’s whimpers. My magic hums with pleasure at the scent of blood being spilled, the coppery aroma filling the air as I stand in the hallway.
I tsk at the thought that I’ll be home late. Then again, I could use a distraction after Thomas wasted my time for hours on end.
I straighten to my full height and rip the door open with such force that the hinges break off. The assassins, sisters I would guess, look up at me, startled and less than amused by the interruption, anger sparking in their dark, almond-shaped eyes.
A vicious smile curls my lips. Time to have some fun.
One of them draws a switchblade and charges at me.
I easily grab her wrist as she swings the blade, halting her in her tracks.
She snarls, and with only a little pressure, I break her wrist, making her drop the knife.
She cries out in pain, and my magic flings her backward against the wall across the room.
The other sister swiftly evades her sibling, extending her fingers into talons and lunging at me.
Harpies, huh? Shame on Tomyla for getting overpowered by her own kind.
She lunges at me with her razor-sharp talons, but before she gets close, my magic wraps around her legs and snaps them. The crack of breaking bones is ominously loud, but she doesn’t cry out. Looks like she can take more than her sister.
Speaking of her sister, that one has regained her footing and has her own talons extended.
Her wings—dark brown feathers—grow out from her arms, adding to her speed.
By some miracle, her talons actually make contact with my skin, ripping through my cheek and causing a deep cut that immediately bleeds.
Blood drips down my face onto my clothes, and I snarl at her.
She looks smugly satisfied that she got a hit in, but when she sees the look on my face, some of that smugness fades.
She retreats a few steps back to her sister, who also has her wings out, somehow only limping despite her broken legs.
For a split second, they seem to reconsider their course of action.
Then they jump on me together in a flurry of wings and talons.
My dagger is in my hand before they reach me, and I slice open one sister’s arm from wrist to shoulder.
Blood sprays from the wound, further ruining my suit.
I grab the woman by the neck and throw her against the other.
That one unashamedly throws her sister to the ground and continues to charge at me.
The feathers of her wings shine for a moment, indicating they’re as sharp as their talons.
Before they can touch me, I send some magic to the blade of my dagger and swipe at the feathers.
It cuts through them without resistance, the feathers clanking to the ground.
She cringes, pain clear on her face. In another motion, I plant the blade in her stomach.
She stills, a gasp escaping her as she reaches for the weapon.
My magic coils around her wrists and pulls her arms behind her back, snapping them out of their sockets with a wet popping sound.
The sister with the cut-up arm scrambles back to her feet.
I use my magic to restrain this one, pull my blade free, and toss her aside.
Stepping over to the other, I unashamedly plant my foot on her bleeding cut.
She whimpers, and her other arm reaches out to claw me away.
I crush the talons of that hand under my foot and then kick her in the face.
Her head snaps back, cracking against the stone floor.
Her eyes roll back, and she goes out cold.
Straightening, I roll my shoulders back and hum to myself while looking down on the two women. I could have had them incapacitated in a second if I’d used my magic, but where’s the fun in that?
Touching a finger to my cheek, I find the cut has already healed, and I wipe the blood on my sleeve.
I restrain both harpies with my magic and then head over to Tomyla.
She lies crumpled in a pile in the corner, a sight unworthy of someone like her.
At least she’s breathing; I’d hate to have to replace her.
She’s one of the few I’m certain is still loyal to me.
I toe her in the side, perhaps slightly harder than I should, and she jolts awake.
Her eyes are wide, a knife instantly appearing in each of her hands.
When her gaze lands on me, she seems to deflate a little, and I take a step back.
Tomyla opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. “Get rope or chains to tie these two up.”
She nods, jumps to her feet, and dashes out of the room.
Meanwhile, I turn to Andrei and find him very dead.
His chest is marked by a set of talons, the skin completely shredded.
His blood sizzles on his chest and bubbles on the floor.
I release my magic with a sigh, and the blood slowly starts to cool.
Tomyla returns with thick rope and wordlessly begins binding the harpy sisters.
“Hang them from the ceiling,” I direct, and with a nod, she follows my orders.
When she’s done, I step over to the sisters and remove the magic restraining them. “Go get cleaned up and wait outside until I’m finished with them.”
After another nod, she steps out, leaving me alone with the two assassins.
I send some magic into them to wake them from their unconscious state. “This is how this is going to go,” I say while twirling my dagger in my hand. “I would greatly enjoy torturing the both of you for information.”
One of them has the audacity to spit at me. Luckily for her, her aim is way off. I glare at her, suppressing the urge to kill her outright.
“Like I was saying…” I throw another look at the one who spat at me and come to a stop in front of her. She snarls at me, and I wonder how long it will take before the fight leaves her. “I’m not going to torture you. I do want your wings, though.”
She tenses at this, and her sister gasps beside her. “You wouldn’t dare,” she snarls.
“Oh, I most certainly would—and I will.”
I release my magic, the black smoke burrowing deep under her skin. It creates patterns like snakes slithering under her skin. It travels to her arms, wrapping around them like a vise. She kicks and screams as it exerts pressure.
After a few more seconds, it snaps her arms, and her wings shoot out.
She whines, her body convulsing as she desperately tries to retract them.
But my magic is stronger than her will, its grip around her arms like iron—unbreakable.
I step closer and run my finger over the feathers.
Despite their sharpness, they’re surprisingly soft.
Magic wraps around the feathers, and in a single brutal motion, all of them are pulled out at once.
This time, she shrieks—a high-pitched noise that makes my ears ring.
Her sister is sobbing, fully aware that she’s next.
I drop the feathers and direct my magic to her other arm, repeating the process.
In mere seconds, the floor beneath her is littered with feathers.
Tears stream down her face, and her arms shake, the bones bare and broken from my brutal treatment.
Her eyes roll back in her head, and then she passes out, the pain too much for her to handle.
Tsking, I turn to the other sister, watching anger and dread wage war in her eyes. My magic shifts eagerly from one sister to the other, hungry to inflict more pain.
“Collect the feathers. They might still be useful,” I instruct Tomyla as I step out of the room. “And get rid of Andrei.”
“The harpies?” she asks, glancing behind me.
“Move them to the White Room. I’ll be back for them later.”
Tomyla nods, her fingers absentmindedly touching the underside of her arm as she undoubtedly remembers the time she lost her own wings. I recall that moment as well—I found her ready to end her own life because she felt less than she was and offered her a second chance under my employment.
Striding past, I throw her a frown over my shoulder, suddenly realizing there’s a pattern here.
Transporting home from my office, I emerge in the library. The heat of the everlasting fire was a welcome reprieve from the cold seeping into my blood-soaked clothes.
I find Elly in the living room, yawning as I enter.
“You should go to bed if you’re this tired,” I tease.
Her eyes light up upon seeing me. “I wanted to finish my hot chocolate first,” she explains, nodding to the mug in her hand.
I come to a stop beside her, pluck the mug from her grip, and down it in one go. “There,” I say, placing the now-empty mug on the coffee table and licking my lips. “All gone.”
“Asshole.” She huffs as I lean down to kiss her. She might call me that, but we both know it no longer means what it once did.
“Hmm, chocolate,” she mumbles, her hands tangling in my hair. She rips away the glamor, baring my red skin for her, and pulls me closer.
I can tell the moment she notices the blood. Her nose crinkles as the smell hits her, and she pulls away slightly.
“Why are you covered in blood?” Elly asks. “Again.”
I chuckle. “We had a little mishap at the office.”
“Again?” she repeats, eyebrows raised.
“Someone snuck in and killed Andrei,” I tell her.
“I had some fun before leaving them strung up to the ceiling.”
“Can’t you just magic the blood away?”
“Sure, but where’s the fun in that?” I grin at her.
Elly rolls her eyes, trying to make it seem like I’m exaggerating. “Now what?” she asks, referring to the fact that Andrei won’t be talking anymore.
I click my tongue, thinking it’s too bad her magics aren’t fully merged yet. She could probably get him to talk if they were. “Andrei isn’t much of a loss, especially since we now have two brand-new toys to play with.”
Elly perks up, catching the promise in my words.
I extend my hand and pull her up from the sofa, pressing her against my chest. The blood on my clothes seeps into her dress.
I stroke her cheek, and as I look at her, I feel…
content. It makes me decide we can let the assassins stew for a bit.
There’s something else we should do first.
“You should go get some rest,” I finally say, my voice soft. “We have a big day tomorrow.”
“How do you mean?” Curiosity fills her voice—good.
“We’re going to the Underworld.”