Chapter 5 #3
“She’s a goddess, fourteen years is nothing to her,” she told him.
He peeked at her out of one eye, and she answered his other question.
“Even if I were strong enough to face my father, I no longer have the option to leave. I would have, if I hadn’t accepted the hunter’s apprenticeship.
Now that Cornick has taken an interest in me, I don’t think even memory erasure will be enough to let me leave. Until my mother steps in.”
“So you got yourself into a mess, and your only plan to get out of it hinges on the goddess who abandoned you returning to save you. That’s not a plan, that’s a little girl’s wish list. They just made you the top hunter brat.
Why not leave anyway? Go to the witches, they’ll take you in.
They like curiosities like you.” He looked at her as she shook her head in denial.
“I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall. My father will use me to hurt my mother. It’s why she left me here,” Elsie said. “To keep me out of the way.”
“That sounds like family drama I’m not interested in.”
“You don’t know her. She’ll come,” Elsie muttered stubbornly.
“You barely look like an adult, little hunter. After fourteen years, you don’t know her either,” his tone was lazy. He wasn’t even trying to rile her up anymore; he’d grown bored with it.
Elsie stewed. The damnable demon didn’t know what he was talking about, though his words stoked that niggling fear that lived in the deepest parts of her mind.
She clung desperately to her faith, but her memories were slipping away.
What if her mother never returned? She certainly wouldn’t be the first child in history to be completely abandoned.
The demon looked over at her, and Elsie realized how serious her decision to bring him here was.
She wouldn’t have a moment alone anymore.
No private moments to rage or grieve or take a nap in peace.
He’d always be a few steps away. A stubborn, sullen, angry demon reminding her of what a terrible person she was.
She’d figure out a way to free him. She had to, if only to get him out of her life.
“Did I hurt your feelings?” he jeered. Elsie groaned and pulled her feet up onto her bed to sit cross-legged.
“I’m too freaking tired to keep arguing with you. I’m going to take that nap, so I don’t snap at my superior in that meeting. You should try sleeping too. You’re obviously exhausted, and you need to heal. We’ll sort things out later, okay?”
He didn’t answer, but she was too irritated to care. Let him steep in his own anger for a while; she was done being his punching bag. Lying back on her bed, she stared up at the ceiling, hoping to fall asleep quickly. He didn’t give her the chance.
After a quick shuffle, his face was over hers. His claws had torn through the gloves and pressed against her throat. Elsie sighed. The silly demon was making a mistake if he thought she was an easy target.
His eyes burned with that inner fire as he stared into hers, but there was something other than surprise that she’d let him pin her down flitting through his emotions that she couldn’t quite grasp.
Elsie didn’t fight him; she lay there, staring back at him, his curls framing a face full of unintentional vulnerability.
“I’m not in the mood to fight with you, mongrel. Just because I’m not going to let other people hurt you doesn’t mean I won’t beat you myself. You’ve crossed a line. I’ll give you three seconds to get your ass back on your own cot,” she warned.
He leaned in until his lips were mere inches from her skin. She started counting backward from ten. Giving him one last chance to make the right choice.
“I’m thinking you should be apologizing to me,” he growled, his breath hot on her cheek, “and you should suffer for what you’ve done.”
Elsie curled her knees to her chest and kicked him in the stomach with both feet, launching him off her. He stumbled back, and she leaped up, slamming the heel of her hand into his solar plexus. The demon doubled over, and she swept his feet out from under him.
It was an easy defeat. He’d been tormented and poorly fed for weeks.
But more importantly, he followed her example and didn’t fight back.
He let her dominate him. Straddling his stomach, she held his wrists to the ground, hissing down at him.
He panted for a few seconds, catching his breath as his body worked on healing the damage she’d done. His eyes caught hers, and he grinned.
“What happened to the no-touching rule?” he asked.
She released one of his wrists and slapped his face hard. His free hand rested on the floor next to her thigh, but he made no move to fight her. Wiggling her fingers in front of his face, she showed him her glove.
“I never touched you,” she told him. She set a single finger on his collar, pressing softly and dimpling his skin without breaking it. “I didn’t even have to use the collar to take you down this quickly. If you ever try anything like this again, I will kill you.”
“Are you sure about that?” he taunted, the hint of a sardonic grin playing at the edge of his lips. “I think you’re bluffing. I think you know what’s happening here.”
“And what’s that, Mutt?”
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” he told her, commenting on the nickname. He grabbed her hand and held on tight, squeezing her glove-clad fingers until it hurt. “You may own me, Mistress, but you’re mine.”