Chosen Fool (Forever Evermore #5)(46)
My smile was cruel as I stared down into silver eyes. “Whoever you are, you will die for this little game you played.”
A disgusting sneer lifted his lips. “I’m surprised you figured it out, you stupid bitch.”
I hummed lightly, twirling my dagger. “It definitely took me longer than it should have. But you’ll still die in the end.” My lips curved even further. “Especially when I tell the One what you’ve been up to.”
He laughed, one bloody eyebrow lifting. “You mean, like f*cking you?”
My chuckle was breathless, and I spoke in a high-pitched, fake sympathetic voice. “Whatever do you mean?” I lifted my dagger straight. “We didn’t f*ck because you couldn’t, what was that again?” I let the dagger point downward. “Oh yeah. You couldn’t get it up.” An innocent expression. “Or don’t you remember?”
His eyes narrowed instantly. “That was this body’s fault.”
I didn’t need Brann snorting to tell me that was a lie. The first one told by this ‘mind’ that was caught.
“Somehow, I doubt that, since the real Leric Damon has many women who just love to talk around the Temple about his prowess.” I shook my head, my eyes guiltless. “I do believe that problem belongs to the mind behind that body.” I faked a gasp, throwing a hand over my mouth, before I flicked a finger at his face. “That would be…you.”
I smiled, then I pulled out my silver knife from under my jacket. “I just want to test a quick theory.” I twirled the silver knife through my fingers before I stabbed his right hand.
He grunted, shaking the barest bit.
“Oh, God. I’m right.” I smiled happily, seriously thrilled with this aspect. Many cruel thoughts ran rapidly inside my mind with the proof he could feel pain.
“Fuck you, bitch. You were more than happy with everything I gave and said to you.”
“Mostly. When you didn’t have to mind-spell it.” I lifted the silver knife, running the blade up his arm slowly, cutting him in a very fine line. “You played the perfect role, getting into not only my psyche, but the others’. Which only makes me wonder why you wanted to be ‘in’ so badly. Why you wanted everyone to trust you. Why you wanted everyone indebted to you.” I sighed, enjoying watching him shiver in pain, his teeth grinding. “But, I know what you’re doing right now.” I glanced into his silver eyes. “Stalling as you are. It won’t work.” I wiped my silver knife on his shirt, the red blood smearing grotesquely against the white cotton. “It’s time for you to go away.”
I arced my dagger of stars’ fire viciously into his head, stabbing him right through the temple. White ash poured out around my blade before his body disappeared. Elder Merrick quickly adjusted when only bones and clothes appeared under him.
The white mist lifted and disappeared, heading back to its true owner.
Chapter Seventeen
Emerging from my room at the Manor a week later, overly tired from night after night of nightmares—my subconscious was screaming at me—I went down to breakfast. I had been holed up in my room since we returned to New York. The only time I left my room was to send Sin one spelled letter. But I was done with my girlish crying jags and self-pity, and done trying to mentally work through the betrayal and the fury of being deceived so badly. The complete mortification. Those gripping emotions had me in the corner at times, my body trembling.
But I understood now. I had been a victim. There was no blaming myself anymore.
Revenge…that was a different story. I was game for revenge.
Hell yes, I was.
There was a journey I needed to first take to understand the mind behind the Walkers. It was a mission I had been thinking back and forth about as I sat in my bedroom, the green and white walls at times feeling like they were swallowing me. This was step one to catching the bastard who had done this.
When I entered the Elemental kitchen during breakfast, everyone stopped eating, their eyes going to me. All of their expressions quickly altered. Careful. Neutral. I muttered, “I’m not going to break. I’m done with that, so don’t you dare pity me.” I moved toward the food, my black boots at odds with the colorful tiles. “You were all screwed over too, so don’t pretend like you’re fine for my sake.”
King Collins cleared his throat. “We are angry. But it’s not the same for us.”
I grabbed a plate, maybe a bit too forcefully. “Yes, I know this. You don’t need to remind me. My point is, I wasn’t the only one hurt in this.” I scooped oatmeal on my plate, and a few pieces of toast, and claimed my empty seat at the silent table. I hung my black purse with the hot pink skull on the back of my chair, my attention on King Collins. “I know everyone’s been discussing what happened and ways to keep it from happening again. And I know you’re still working on the issue of Philip Masterson, but I need to do what I said that night. I thought everyone could compile a list of pertinent questions to ask when I go.”
King Collins stared at me for a long moment. “You’re going to the Temple.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “Yes.”
“To speak with the real Leric Damon?”
I nodded once, eating a large spoonful of oatmeal. “I don’t want to.” I shook my head, glancing down at my plate. “But I have to.” I ran a hand through my hair before peering back up to him. “Plus, he may be able to answer questions for us.”