Chapter 16

The girl intrigues me.

Knives intrigue me. Dead bodies intrigue me. Blood staining my hands intrigues me.

Girls—even pretty ones—should most definitely not intrigue me.

My tumultuous feelings for her are bordering on obsessive. When I close my eyes, I see her face. When they’re open, I seek her out. My body is an epitome of contradictions: I want her close, yet I want her as far away as possible.

My magic flares brilliantly as my thoughts continue to circulate around little Miss Nina Doe. A flaming ball of fire heats up my palm, threatening to devour the entire godforsaken world.

Not that I would shed a tear. The world can burn, for all I care.

Blade’s dragon roars, wings flapping as it remains dormant in the throne room. Fortunately for our king, the room is big enough for him to shift comfortably. His long, sharp claws dig into the cement floor, leaving behind jagged gashes.

Bronson is pacing, the wolf wild and untamed. Feral. It almost gives me a giddy thrill. What will it be like when his monster is finally set loose on this world? I can close my eyes and visualize the destruction and pain left in his wake. The streets will be bathed in red…

Smile grim, I focus once more on the handle of my favorite dagger. Narian Teres had given it to me when I first arrived at the guild. A present, he said, for his favorite assassin.

God only knew what being his favorite entailed.

Narian was a lot of things—most of them sick and depraved—but he had a keen eye for weapons. This one has struck its target every time since I was ten, first sent out in the world to do a powerful man’s bidding. A little monster unleashed.

Now, look at me…

My thoughts, as always, circle back to Nina. I can’t help but wonder where she is, if she’s hurt, if she’s dead. The damn girl is a distraction—a mold that has spread to encompass an entire wall—and try as I might, I can’t remove her.

A demented part of me wants to kill her. It would be so easy. A slash of blade against her fragile little neck. Then all my fears will be eliminated. I will no longer have to worry about this slip of a girl because she will no longer exist.

In that same wavelength, I try to envision a world without her in it. It’s almost inconceivable.

As a mage, I’m capable of sensing powers in others. Most are a dull, monochromic gray. Some shine a little brighter than others, but not by much.

And then there’s her.

She’s a flame. An actual, brilliant flame that sets my skin on fire. I burn, but I welcome the pain. All I ever see is darkness—every corner, every crevice, every hallway. When she steps into a room, it’s like she’s bathed in her own personal light. Or maybe she collects the light of every person in the immediate vicinity because, at that moment, all I can see is her. She descended into my life like an angel, haloed in light, and that is what she is to me: my angel. My personal angel.

If those asshole guards harmed her in any way…

“You need to calm the fuck down and start talking,” Cain snaps at Blade, and it shocks me to see the normally stoic demon lose his cool. Unlike the others, he doesn’t have any…warm feelings towards the strange female. I can see heavy suspicion in his eyes and something resembling fear whenever he speaks of her.

“Seriously, man, you can’t help her when you beast out,” Abel adds. The twins’ words finally seem to resonate inside the dragon’s thick skull.

In a flash of blinding light, Blade returns to his human form. Wordlessly, Abel hands him a pair of pants and waits for him to get dressed.

Bronson, the undignified savage, remains in his wolf form, snarling in the shadows. I’m not sure he could even control his shift if he wanted to. It must feel like a knife in the gut to be separated from his mate so soon after meeting her.

The others may be oblivious, but not me. I pride myself on knowing the ins and outs of every mechanism in this facility, including the people. They’re like machines with cogs and wheels that I’m able to skillfully turn and twist to do my bidding.

Leaning against the wall, I cut the dagger against the flesh of my wrist, watching with rapt interest as blood wells. The red color looks beautiful against my pale skin. Fuck, sometimes I wish I was born a vampire just to be able to lick it clean. Taste it. Taste the power and pain.

What would Nina taste like?

“You’re right,” Blade says, panting. He hasn’t fully regained control of his beast. Reptilian eyes peer back at me in a face contorted from rage. “If Nina’s in danger, you deserve to know the truth.”

“We don’t care about the blind slut,” Cain snaps, and Blade bristles at the derogatory term. Even Abel glares at his brother. With anybody else, I’d have their tongue already on a fucking silver platter, but I know Cain’s anger stems from something much, much deeper. Fear, for one. Pain, for two. Torturing him would be like kicking a downed puppy. As sadistic as I am, I’m not about to kill an already beaten man.

Though it’s tempting. Very tempting.

Blade takes a deep breath, gathering his wits, before focusing on a water stain on the wall. “She was at the Compound with me.”

“What the hell is that?” Abel queries. We’ve been acquaintances for years, but I don’t know anything about these men. I know what they did to arrive here—I make it my business to know—but I don’t know about their lives before they were placed inside these walls. Maybe I should rectify that.

“I was taken there when I was a young boy. Ten, maybe. Nine? I don’t remember.” Blade’s eyes take on a hazy, distant quality, as if he’s reaching for a memory only he can see. I can’t help but think about how vulnerable he is currently. About how easy it would be to render him immobile with my powers and cut out his heart.

But alas, I’m too interested in his story. I hate how curious I am about Angel’s life.

“It…wasn’t a good place.” He glances worriedly at Bronson, as if anxious for his reaction, and scrubs a hand down the back of his neck. Silly little boy. It’s not the wolf he should be worried about.

“What do you mean?” Abel asks, his eyes already tinted with red.

“It was run by humans who tested on supernaturals,” Blade admits at last, exhaling. My blood turns cold as I understand the implications behind his words.

What happened to my Angel?

I want to kill Blade for no reason at all, except the fact that he’s the bearer of bad news.

“What do you mean tested?” Cain asks darkly. Abel puts a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder as the two exchange inscrutable looks. Interesting. What secrets are they hiding?

“She was tortured,” Blade says bluntly, and Bronson lets out a wounded cry that quickly transforms into a growl. Abel, standing closest to the beast, takes an automatic step back, pulling his brother with him. “They sent her to the torture chamber every day. They would burn her, skin her alive, shoot her…”

Cain runs to the corner of the room and vomits out a black, smoky liquid. Abel’s face is shockingly pale as he leans against the wall, sliding down until he lands on his ass. Bronson’s whining increases.

Pathetic. All of them. Instead of cowering, they need to take action. Already, I’m planning the deaths of all the miserable cretins involved in Nina’s torture. It will not be quick and painless. No, not at all.

I will make them scream for mercy.

If Nina is an angel, then I will have to be her devil. I will be her darkness, her fighting hand, her killer.

Hers.

“How long was she in this Compound?” Abel asks softly, dropping his head into his hands. At least he’s doing better than Cain, who is close to losing it. Tiny horns sprout from his blond hair, and his skin crackles with waves of heat. Long lines zigzag down his cheeks, like a canyon forming.

“Her whole life,” Blade answers miserably.

“And you left her there!” Bronson roars. At some point, he shifted back to his human form and is now towering over Blade, ass naked. The dragon drops his eyes almost guiltily.

If he left her there, I would have to kill him. It’s in the rule book.

Death to all assholes.

I take a step closer with my knife drawn, and Blade’s eyes snap to mine. He doesn’t stop me, though, which makes it even more sad.

“I don’t know what happened,” he says softly. “We’d been planning our escape for months. I would have her look through the guards’ eyes and describe exactly what she saw.”

Look through the guards’ eyes? What did he mean by that?

Blade continues to talk, unaware of what he gave away. “I planned out an escape route. When we had the chance, we would run. Run straight until you reach the tree cut in two. Then turn left. Run until you see the road. At the road, make sure you go right. Do not stop. Do not look behind you. Do not allow yourself to be seen,” he recites, voice distant. “I remember, one night, we were talking—we had cells right next to each other—when I heard footsteps. No one was supposed to come down for at least a few hours. I was terrified they had discovered our plan.”

He really needs to hurry the story along. I would like to kill him and then find Angel in a timely manner. Sometimes dragons can be so selfish.

“They opened my cell door and said ‘you’re going somewhere else. We don’t need you anymore.’ I promised Nina I would get her out. I fucking promised.” His voice breaks, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Fucking dramatic. “When I woke up next, I was here. And she was there.”

“Wow,” I drawl at last, clapping my hands together slowly. The gesture is impeded by the dagger still tightly gripped between my fingers. “What a sad and touching story.”

“You’ve never loved anyone,” Blade bites out scathingly. “You wouldn’t even begin to comprehend what it’s like to have her ripped away from you.”

“You’re right.” I shrug cheerfully. “Love makes you weak. But it doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t answer one very important question: what is she?”

Blade’s eyes shoot fire at me, even as his shoulders slump. “I don’t know,” he answers at last, and I vehemently curse. Dammit. This time, I’m positive he’s telling the truth. There’s no way he can lie that well.

“But I do know,” Blade continues, recapturing everyone’s attention, “that she’s my fated mate.”

Ohhh. Things just got interesting.

Bronson snarls, the sound more monster than human, and lunges forward, tackling Blade to the ground.

Smirking, I move back to lean against the wall and clean the inside of my nail out with my dagger. “Tsk, tsk, boys. Haven’t you heard? Sharing is caring.”

Inside, however, I’m fuming. Not at the mate thing—I don’t give two fucks about that—but about what she endured. Our backgrounds aren’t all that dissimilar, but while I came out sullied and tainted, she still shines with an inner light.

It’s a light I need to live. A light that’s vital to my very soul, my genetic makeup.

Now that I have her, no one is taking her from me.

I’ll kill everyone here if I have to. And then, once I’m done with that, I’ll kill everyone at that blasted Compound. I’ll live in the darkness so my Angel is able to live in the light.