Nyx’s crow was perched nearby. I felt its beady fucking eyes watching blondie lead me all the way to room four.
I freed my hand from hers the second we were inside and shut the door, making sure it was locked.
When I turned back towards her, she stared expectantly and took a small step forward, making no attempt to touch me.
It was typical—she wanted me to take total control, make her feel something she would never feel with those hicks back at the bar.
I could make that happen.
Closing the small space between us, I cloaked my face in an illusion of desire. She placed her hands on my chest and I quickly removed them, giving a reassuring squeeze when a hint of confusion touched her brow.
“Get on the bed,” I told her, spotting what I needed dangling from a ratty suitcase that hadn’t been unpacked yet. That small detail alone told me all I needed to know about her.
Earlier, she’d mentioned that she and her friend had been here for two days already, but she obviously hadn’t planned to stay for very long—meaning blondie and the redhead were roadies.
They traveled from shithole to shithole scoring drugs and spreading their legs. I’d assumed as much when I saw the track marks the redhead had tried to cover up with makeup.
And this chick thought I would actually stick my dick in her? I was offended.
She tried to reach past me to flip on the light.
I grabbed her wrist, a little rougher than intended, and gave a light shove. “I said, get on the bed.”
Her lips parted and, for a second, I thought she was going to object.
“I’m not usually one to fool around with the lights off; I like to see…” She dragged her gaze down my body, “But if you’re into that…”
“I am.” Among other things.
“Well, you look far too delicious for me to turn down, so your wish is my command,” she replied in a sultry tone.
Delicious? I wasn’t a fucking fruit.
I’d been prepared to force her if she decided to freak out. This was much better, though. When they willingly got into position, the experience was more rewarding—for both of us.
“Do you have a rubber?”
The question came muffled from beneath her shirt as she pulled it off.
“I have everything we need.”
Going to the suitcase, I grabbed what looked like a silk scarf and tugged on either end to test its strength.
It would suffice.
When I turned back to my temporary bed buddy, I wasn’t surprised to see she was already naked.
“Turn around and lay on your stomach,” I commanded gruffly.
Teeth flashed and the bed squeaked as she quickly obeyed.
“Like this?” she questioned, wiggling her ass.
“Just like that.”
Gripping the scarf tightly in one hand, I settled myself on the bed so that I was straddling her without crushing her.
For a second, I found myself wondering what it would be like to place the stiletto between each ridge of her spine, but that would take more time than I cared to spend.
She giggled when I grabbed her hands. “Kinky?” she hummed, completely complacent as I bound her wrists together.
“You have no idea,” I professed, reaching behind me to retrieve my stiletto. There was a Springfield hidden in a holster on my waistband, but that wouldn’t give me half the satisfaction.
“Are you still there?” Blondie asked, starting to turn her head to see what I was doing.
My hand shot out to slam her face into the pillow; the other wrapped around the handle of my stiletto. She tried to dislodge me, but I was twice her size and, since she’d so kindly let me restrain her wrists, all she could really do was kick her legs and yell into the pillowcase.
I could be wrong, but I think she was finally realizing that this may not have been the best decision. “Shhh.” I engaged my blade.
With my hand firmly knotted in her hair, I stared at the back of her head. It didn’t matter that the room was nearly pitch black; I thrived in darkness. It soothed me in ways the light never had.
I shut my eyes as my mind began to create an illusion I longed to make a reality. Wavy ash blonde hair, freckled skin, and a tiny frame—the blonde beneath me went from a stranger to the woman who’d betrayed me and my family.
I opened my eyes and shoved the knife into her flesh, just beneath her right shoulder blade, at an angle I knew would disturb the bone.
She squealed like a fucking pig and a crimson river began to flow. My senses heightened and adrenaline pumped through my veins. I pulled the blade out just to push it right back in, twisting the handle so she’d scream a little louder.
Damn, she sounded so much like Gwen. Even their attitudes aligned—they were both stuck up bitches who raised their noses at people like me. Unless they wanted something from us.
In that case, there were multiple debts needing to be repaid. Each one was worse than the last, and I had a million ways I would make her reimburse me for all of them.
I jerked the blade to the left, splitting flesh as I dragged it from the wound and straight down Gwen’s back.
She thought I was nothing. She’d told me I was only good for a dick to sit on. How many times did she throw all the reasons my mother never wanted me in my face?
I’d chalked it up to her saying stupid shit because we were arguing. She had simply lashed out, trying to hurt me, and it worked because now I knew this stupid cunt had meant every word.
Shoving the blade into the upper globe of her ass, I pushed her face deeper into the pillow to muffle her screech. The bed squeaked non-stop beneath us, but I wasn’t worried. Anyone passing by would naturally assume we were fucking.
Of course, Gwen only gave me pussy when she wasn’t getting any dick from Butcher. I knew that now, too. She’d always been a bit of a slut, but I’d never considered myself an idiot.
Until fucking now.
Until she made a fool of me, played me, and got my little brother taken.
Pulling the stiletto from the top of her rounded globe, I readjusted my grip, fingers now slick with blood, and slid it between both ass cheeks.
“You want something inside you?” I flipped the knife around and began to force the handle into her asshole, tearing right through the pink muscled barrier.
She’d been searching for this. To be fucked hard. It was only right that I made sure she got exactly what she wanted.
Her blood had the consistency of water. It saturated the bedspread, the wall, me.
With the bathroom light on, I had a clear visual of what I’d done.
The blonde’s brutalized hole gaped at me through bloodied ass cheeks like a third eye, judging me for the carnage I had created. Wounds of different sizes covered her from nearly head to toe.
The room smelled of iron, piss, and shit. I couldn’t remember when she’d lost control of her bowels. I never recalled much of my process after a certain point.
I didn’t know how to explain it, but it started weeks ago. I knew what I’d done was wrong, that I should have been consumed by guilt for this sick fucking habit of mine, but all I could feel was self-loathing for what I’d become. It was everything my mother hated and I couldn’t stand that her opinion still mattered to me.
Gwen wasn’t the reason I was the way I was. She was merely the cause of old scars being torn open.
As a Venom, I wasn’t expected to be right in the head, but this was an entirely different level of fucked up. I’d done my best to keep it contained, but it had festered for so long now that it was eating me alive.
All the pain and anger I’d buried deep inside me were unleashed behind the doors of seedy motel rooms.
Blondes no one gave a shit about just happened to be the fatalities of my latest coping method, nameless doppelgangers for the second person I was most angry at.
The first would always be myself. I should have known the bitch was playing me, smiling in my face while plotting on my
downfall.
That was the thing about betrayal: it came from those we trusted, those we cared about, those we let in and told our secrets to.
I returned to the bathroom and shoved up the grout covered handle for the sink, placing my knife beneath the stream and watching the basin turn from faded white to a dull red.
So far, the blonde’s cherry headed friend hadn’t come knocking on the door, which meant I had time to clean up and get the fuck outta here.
I left the tap running and snatched down a shower liner that had seen much better days, sending a large brown bug scurrying from its hiding place.
Back at the bed, I spread the liner out on the floor and stripped the linen, leaving blondie exactly where she was in a pile of feces and blood.
I bundled everything together and rolled her body from the bed to the liner. There was a faint thud and crinkling of plastic as she landed.
I pulled my bloodied shirt over my head and tossed it down on her back before swaddling the giant mass into a ball of sorts.
With a firm grip, I dragged her across the room, past the running sink, and paused by the toilet. There was a window just above it that I knew she’d fit through.
Behind this motel was nothing but overgrown weeds and trash; there couldn’t have been a more fitting place to leave a body.
I reached up and flipped the flimsy latch responsible for keeping the window locked, and then bent down to retrieve blondie.
It took a bit of upper body strength, but in the end she went tumbling down to the ground on the other side.
With her gone, I did one last quick sweep of the room. I wasn’t entirely sure how to go about cleaning this mess up. I’d been careless tonight. I knew better. I was the one who helped Z become as meticulous as he was.
Blondie wasn’t here alone, but her friend couldn’t have been concerned for her well-being. She had yet to knock on the door.
Grabbing hold of the suitcase I assumed was hers, I tossed it out of the window, too.
Next, I snatched my stiletto from the sink and slid it back in its sheath.
After flipping off the light, I left the room, locking the door and my dirty secret behind me.
Hearing footsteps, I looked over and caught site of Nyx’s retreating silhouette.
Chapter Three
Tres
I loathed this entire atmosphere.
Strangers made me uncomfortable; being in a room full of them was starting to make my skin itch.
I’d tasted Trix’s beer and gagged on it, so getting drunk wasn’t an option, which truly sucked. Being in a perpetual state of numbness was addictive.
Hearing Addie’s laughter, I finally pulled my blank stare from the scuffed bar.
A frown immediately overtook my face as I caught site of Maliki being pulled out the door by—surprise, surprise—another blonde.
He definitely had a type.
And it isn’t you, a small voice whispered. I shook my head to shut it up. It didn’t matter, anyway. Yeah, we spent one incredibly random night together. His kiss touched more than my lips, and being beneath him took me to places I’d never been, but Maliki and I were just friends. Surprisingly good friends, in fact.
I needed his friendship more than I wanted to find out how badly he’d hurt me, or all the ways I’d unintentionally hurt him. Two broken people couldn’t offer the other anything but pain.
“Girl, all you gotta do is tell his ass to stop,” Trix commented, following my line of vision.
I wouldn’t ever do that. “What makes you think he’d listen to me?”
She clucked her tongue and tossed back the rest of her beer with one large gulp.
Gross.
“Because you matter to him.”
“Yeah, so do you.”
“True, but not remotely in the same way.”
“Right,” I said dismissively.
I tapped my fingers on the bar and glanced towards the back of the room. The redhead the blonde had been with was practically climbing into a stranger’s lap.
She didn’t seem all that concerned about her friend.
If Addy had tried something like that, I’d have been breaking doors down. Fortunately, as reckless as my cousin was, she wasn’t a total idiot, and she was with Zane.
I returned my gaze to where they were standing; they must have made some progress.
The bartender appeared to be explaining something as he scribbled on a piece of paper. It’d been a good while since we’d had any kind of lead. We were simply bouncing from town to town, seeking information. It was Lucifuge who told us to try here.
The door swung open again and two people entered the bar—a woman with long, teal hair who couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, and a man who had to be nearly seven.
They remained just inside the entryway, both scanning the room, clearly searching for someone.
When the woman’s eyes landed on me, she paused for a second or two, and then she began to head my way. The man was like a shadow, right at her back.
There was a silent threat evident on his face that dared anyone to get too close.
Before they could reach me, Zane caught sight of them and immediately placed Addy behind him, his entire demeanor going from somewhat relaxed to protective.
“He is such a caveman,” Trix chuckled.
I couldn’t have agreed with that statement more, but I wouldn’t speak ill of him for it, either.
His unwavering devotion to all things Addy wasn’t something I could thank him for with words.
I watched him and the giant of a man speak quietly to one another, and some of the tension gradually eased from his shoulders. Then, he surprised the hell out of me by shaking the man’s hand.
“Who’s that?”
“I dunno. Your guess is as good as mine,” Trix replied.
As they began speaking in earnest, the woman he’d come in with squeezed around them and closed the remaining distance between us.
“Hi,” she greeted with a reserved but friendly smile.
I noticed the Anubis tatted on the left side of her chest straight away. It was placed in such a way one couldn’t miss it, just like the inverted cross inked beside my right ear.
“Hey,” I replied with the same reservation.
Trix smoothed a hand over her cotton-candy colored hair and casually shifted so that she would either have to be included in the discussion or talked over.
The woman was unfazed by the action.
“I’m Alessia. That man back there is Tyson. We’re um, looking for my sister.” She paused and reached into her back pocket, pulling out a polaroid. “Have you two seen her anywhere by chance? She goes by Izzy.”
I studied the photo and shook my head. “I’ve never seen her before.”
“She doesn’t look familiar to me either,” Trix added.
“Are you sure? She’s pregnant. Or, was pregnant—the baby may have been born by now.”
Taking another look at the brunette in the image, I studied the laugh lines around her eyes. The smile on her face seemed so genuine and carefree. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d felt so unburdened, the last time I wasn’t trapped beneath a mountain of apathy.
This girl had the same Anubis tattooed on her chest as Alessia.
I gathered right away that it was their insignia. As with all factions in the Badlands, our insignias represented where we came from and broadcasted that we weren’t alone. Where there was one, there was bound to be another—safety in numbers and all that jazz.
Still, none of that was going to make me remember someone I’d never met before. I wouldn’t have forgotten a woman on the verge of giving birth.
“I haven’t seen her,” I repeated.
Alessia retracted the photo with a nod of her head. “Well, if you happen to come across her, I’d greatly appreciate it if you could tell her I’m heading down. She’ll understand the meaning.”
“If we come across her, it’s b—”
“We can do t
hat,” Trix cut me off.
“Thanks,” Alessia replied, flashing another smile. “And good luck, Nyx.”
I stared at her with a slightly arched brow. “How do you know my name?”
Her smile grew a little bigger. “You’re the spitting image of your mother.” She left me with those parting words, turning around and going back to the man she’d called Tyson. Her head moved back and forth in response to whatever he asked.
With the picture still in her hand, she held it up to the show the bartender, who simply shrugged.
Alessia slid the photo back into her jean pocket and headed for the exit with Tyson quickly moving to follow, after saying something final to Zane. I stared at their retreating forms. Alessia’s shoulders were squared and her head was held high.
Not a sign of someone close to giving up. I could respect that.
We were still searching for a few people ourselves, my baby brother amongst them. With that search came one of my greatest fears. I was the reaper’s daughter, the devil’s niece—a Savage through and through.
I was also painfully and tragically human, albeit far from an average one. I still had that small list of things that terrified me just like the mundane did. Some fears were bigger than others, but one always remained at the top.
Death.
That’s ironic, right? Death was something I held like a kiss, but at times her softness turned brutal and self-destructive.
I understood her on a deeply personal level. She didn’t discriminate. I knew at any time without any warning, she could lay claim to someone I loved.
And she knew that if my brother was no longer among the living, I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I held strong to my diabolic faith and beliefs that I would feel his departure. As of now, he was still here. I’d walk to the ends of this earth to find him—Lilith and Demon, too.
“Were you about to tell that girl her sister was dead?” Trix asked, interrupting my inner musings.
“Pregnant and lost in the Badlands? That doesn’t sound too good to me.”
“A little positivity wouldn’t hurt.”
I smothered a yawn and rubbed the back of my neck. “Positivity is nothing more than false hope.”
Hellions: Badlands: Next Generation Page 3