Lethal Blow: (Succubus Hitwoman Book 2)

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Lethal Blow: (Succubus Hitwoman Book 2) Page 7

by Eliza Hendrix


  How the fuck am I supposed to decide this? The girl needs help. But she isn’t even real, right? It must be some illusion to distract me from feeding. What I need is a good meal. Maybe after that, I can save her.

  It’s not like it’ll take me long to eat.

  I take a step toward the couple and their smiles widen.

  “I want you,” the woman says through labored breathing.

  Although the man’s the one fucking her, she’s talking to me.

  “I want you so bad.”

  A painful throb shoots down in between my legs, and I feel like if I don’t feed now, I might implode.

  “You want me?” she adds, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. “Come fucking take me.”

  “Help!” comes the shrill voice again.

  Goddamn it.

  This is fucking bullshit.

  I clench my teeth so hard my jaw pops.

  Without giving myself any time to regret my decision or to think about how hungry I am, I expand my wings and launch myself toward the Cerberus.

  Chapter 11

  ──────────

  Extracting my wrist blades, I hurl through the air and straight for the Cerberus. But before I can even attempt to cut off one of its heads, the creature’s shape begins to lose form and distort. Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or is he disappearing?

  Gradually, a swirling green light encompasses his body, along with the woman’s. Before I can comprehend what the hell is happening, the two disappear as fast as a hummingbird’s wings.

  Are you kidding me? I turned down feeding for what? For nothing? All of that sexual frustration needs to go somewhere, and slicing off some heads would have helped me with that.

  Gritting my teeth, I land hard in a pile of leaves. Maybe the couple is still going at it. Maybe—

  When I twirl around, they’re still gone.

  What a fucking downer.

  I’m about to shout something like, This isn’t a trial, it’s a tease, you sick motherfucker!

  Thankfully, I’m distracted before the words come spilling out of my mouth. The forest instantly brightens as though illuminated by ten suns. All around me, leaves turn a vivid green, the fog lifts, and countless lavender plants spring out of the forest floor. In the overhead branches, where crows were cawing minutes ago, are songbirds chirping away as if celebrating something.

  How did everything go from being so dark and gloomy to peppy and cheerful?

  Gross.

  Up ahead appears a cloud of purple smoke that matches the lavender plants. At first, it looks like cotton candy, but as the smoke dissipates, a small wooden cabin comes bursting up from the earth, its wood cracking and snapping as it sends twigs and leaves flying in every direction.

  Although it sounds like it’s being demolished, by the time the cracking stops, the house looks like it’s been standing there for decades.

  What the hell’s going on?

  It doesn’t take a genius to know that the cabin’s where I’m supposed to go next.

  Rolling my eyes, I march my way to the cabin. Though deep down, I know I should be behaving with more class, I can’t shake my anger over what happened. That’s like letting a drug addict lick a pill, then tucking that same pill in your pocket and laughing at them. You can’t fucking do that to someone like me.

  So whoever’s hiding out in that cabin had better be damn well worth it.

  I loosen my fists when I realize I have them clenched. While I might be pissed off, I can’t come across as some psychotic bitch when I enter the place. I’m here to find Devania—a woman whose sole purpose in life is to take down corruption and evil. Punching in faces won’t get me very far with her.

  As I approach the cabin, the front door creaks open as if the energy of my presence alone were capable of moving inanimate objects. I wish. That’d be pretty fucking sick.

  I think what it means is that whoever’s inside the house is expecting me.

  Moving quietly, I push the door open. “Hello?”

  Nothing.

  As I enter, the smell of fresh peanut butter cookies and peppermint candy fills my nostrils.

  I’m beginning to think I ended up in the same forest as Hansel and Gretel. Rumor has it the witch is still alive. No one’s been able to prove it, which has caused a lot of speculation. Until his death, however, Hansel swore up and down he watched her burn to ashes.

  I’ve never been convinced. Everyone knows witches have sneaky ways around shit.

  But as I inhale the warm, succulent fumes, I can’t help but feel like I’m being lured into something.

  It can’t be as bad as what I just went through. Sure, I like food as much as the next girl, but I could never be seduced by it.

  “Hello?” I repeat.

  A floorboard creaks and I extract my wrist blades on instinct.

  “H-h-hello,” comes a mousy voice.

  Out from the darkness of the candlelit space comes a small woman with a tight gray bun atop her head, a rounded back, and a silver robe that drags behind her bare, veiny feet. In her right hand is an oil lantern casting a bright yellow light toward me. It rattles as she walks, and I can’t tell if it’s due to trembling legs or trembling hands. Her left hand—or at least what remains of it—supports the base of the lantern.

  The woman’s old—like, super old.

  I’m surprised she’s still breathing.

  On her face are thick round glasses, and behind them, blue eyes with sagging lower lids. They sag so much that pink flesh hangs around her eyeball.

  “Hi,” I say plainly.

  Who is this woman?

  As she walks, her head bobbles. Is she nodding at me, or is this related to her old age? She places her lantern down on a yellow oak table, clears her throat, and slowly lowers herself onto a three-legged stool next to it.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” she says, her voice sounding like it’s being taken for a ride on a roller coaster.

  “Um, hi,” I say.

  Her head keeps bobbing and all I want to do is grab it and hold it straight.

  She sucks in a wavering breath, taps her fingers on the table, and aims her gaze at me.

  Somehow, I feel compelled to sit down next to her.

  Shit. Maybe she is the witch from the story. Well, I’m here now, and there’s no going back. I pull out a stool and sit down.

  “You acted selflessly,” she says.

  I stare at her. What’s she talking about?

  I keep expecting a smile to pull at the corner of her lips, but it’s like she’s too old to use those muscles.

  “You have proven yourself worthy, child.”

  Is this about me choosing to save the woman over feeding? It’s not like I was given much of a choice. And I didn’t put much thought into it. The lady was screaming. If anything, she would have distracted me while I was feeding. I don’t see how that makes me some hero. This lady’s delusional.

  Finally, her lip twitches and her big blue eyes soften. “You still do not know who you are, do you, child?”

  My eyes dart around the room. Okay, what is this? Some sort of prank? The words are coming out like she’s some mystical being about to tell me I’m destined to save the world.

  I hold in a scoff.

  “Listen,” I say, cutting her off before she can give me some cheesy speech. “I’m looking for Devania. A good friend of mine asked me to find her and told me we need her if we plan on getting rid of vampire corruption.”

  The old woman lowers her head to stare at me from behind her glasses. “Why do you wish to eliminate such power?”

  I’m taken aback by her question. Why else would I have come all this way? Veerka asked me to, and I’ll do whatever she wants if it means getting to have her as my own.

  The woman must sense my reluctance to answer her question. She stiffens her back—well, as much as she physically can with that turtle posture of hers—and gazes intently at me. “You deny your heart.”

  I’m no
t denying shit. I want Veerka. I want her in every way imaginable—on her back, on her stomach, between my legs—and if I have to take down a whole fucking Vampire Mafia to get her, I’ll do it.

  A smirk creeps onto the woman’s face, and I can’t help but wonder if she can read my mind. I might want to lay off the naked thoughts until I get out of here. Otherwise, she might no longer see me as being worthy.

  “Most living beings require several motivators to accomplish great things,” she says.

  I don’t know what she’s getting at, but I’ll listen. She didn’t react when I said Devania, which means she knows who she is and knows how I can find her.

  “While you might believe love to be your greatest motivator, something else is shining within you.”

  She aims a trembling finger toward my chest. “Something destined for greatness.”

  Oh God…

  Don’t roll your eyes, don’t roll your eyes, don’t roll your eyes.

  I’m tempted to tell her it’s the sex I want, not the love, but I’ll only be digging my own grave. Besides, if she can read my mind, she already knows what I’m thinking.

  “This world has made you cold, Alexis, but the goodness within you cannot be drowned out.”

  My eyes widen. How does she know my name?

  “I don’t know what you’re trying to get at,” I say, getting a little impatient, “but I need to know how to find Devania. Can we please skip all this chitchat and get straight to the point?”

  Without saying a word, the woman bows her head and extends a veiny hand toward a bright fireplace at the back of the cabin. The second I lay eyes on it, it makes a swooshing sound and lights up with dancing red flames.

  I don’t get it.

  What does a fireplace have to do with Devania? Is there a secret door behind that thing? It looks large enough to be a secret doorway.

  “Admit your truth, Alexis, and the flames will lead you to where you need to go.”

  I’m getting sick of these fucking riddles. Clenching my jaw, I stand up, but the woman’s ice-cold hand catches me by surprise.

  “You cannot keep blaming yourself for the past.”

  Our eyes lock.

  What’s she talking about? How could she know anything about my past?

  Using the oak table for support, she stands up, her head barely reaching my chest.

  “You hide behind pain, child.”

  I want to pull away, but I can’t. She knows things. I can’t explain how, but she does. It’s almost as if she’s spent her entire life following me, and as I stare into her eyes, I feel at home.

  What? No… I can’t be. This doesn’t make any sense.

  “Mother?” I breathe.

  One of her hairless brows pops up and she pulls her wrinkled face back.

  Guess not.

  Okay, that was embarrassing. Why’d she give me mixed signals like that?

  And what was I thinking? She couldn’t possibly by my mother—I’m not even sure why the thought popped into my head. I’m about to scold her for fucking with my emotions like that and allowing me to make a total fool of myself when she points at the fire again.

  I follow her aim, and my throat swells.

  Inside the flames is a vivid flash of families screaming—mothers, fathers, and children running inside a burning village. Inside my village.

  I want to turn away, but I can’t.

  Instead, I watch as my younger brother screams and runs in circles as fire engulfs his little body. My parents try to help him, but it’s no use. As people attempt to run from the chaos, pale faces sweep through the village, moving about so fast it’s almost impossible for anyone to see them.

  But now, as I watch the devastation unfold inside the fire’s flames, I see them clearly.

  My older sister charges toward one of them with an iron pitchfork in her grasp, but it’s no use. A dark-eyed vampire swoops in, slicing her throat open with its sharp fingernails. Blood splatters inside the fireplace, and I flinch. My chest tightens as I watch my sister fall to her knees.

  As I did centuries ago, I stand still, unable to move.

  I want to help, but I’m too afraid.

  I remember Papa teaching me how to use my wings that day, but for some reason, I couldn’t extract them… I couldn’t save them.

  The old woman clicks her fingers and the bloody scene fades from the flames.

  “You were young,” she says.

  Although I want to look at her, I can’t. I stare at the fire, feeling like I’m about to shatter into a thousand pieces. It’s one thing to think about the past repeatedly—it’s quite another to relive it.

  “Evil did that,” she says, pointing into the fire. “Not you.”

  “I should have helped. I knew how to fly. I could have saved them.”

  The old woman shakes her head. “Your anger is destroying you, Alexis.”

  My throat swells so much I feel like it’ll split open. I’d do anything to chug down an entire bottle of tequila right about now.

  Rather than allowing myself to break down and cry, I do what I’m best at—I get angry.

  “Why’d you show me that?” I snap.

  “To remind you that people suffer at the hands of evil. You are no longer a child, Alexis. You can protect the vulnerable.”

  “Why are you even doing this? How does showing me my past help me at all? Tell me where Devania is. I’m getting fucking sick of playing this game.”

  She doesn’t react to my anger. Instead, she smiles sweetly, bows her head, and extends that same open palm at the fire again. I’m afraid to look into it, but I can’t help myself.

  Thankfully, nothing happens. All I see is a fire licking logs of wood.

  “What am I looking at?” I say through gritted teeth.

  With her arm still extended, she says, “The doorway.”

  Chapter 12

  ──────────

  It takes everything in me not to laugh in her face.

  She’s on crack if she thinks I’m about to step foot inside a lit fireplace.

  “If your heart is true, you will not burn.”

  “Did you pull that out of the bible, or your ass?” I say.

  I feel like an asshole the second it comes out of my mouth, but it’s too late to take it back. “I’m sorry,” I blurt.

  She doesn’t seem bothered by my attitude. It’s like she expects it from me.

  “Who are you, really?” I ask.

  She makes her eyes go big at the fireplace.

  “You can’t seriously expect me to walk into a fire,” I say.

  Is this lady insane? I might not die, but I’m not exactly in the mood to have my skin melt off. I think back to the image in the fireplace and feel sick to my stomach. No matter what this lady says, the burning of my village will always be my fault.

  My parents didn’t ask to find me abandoned at the edge of the forest. They also didn’t ask for a demon child. It’s my fault the vampires came searching for me in the village. They got word of a demon living among feebles and wanted to put an end to it. Instead of saving the people I cared about, I ran.

  I let them die.

  I’m a fucking coward.

  And so is my biological mother for having abandoned me in the first place.

  Is she even alive? Deep down, part of me hopes so, while the other part of me hopes she rots in hell.

  The old lady remains silent. I could stand around waiting for her to spill, but that may never happen. There’s one thing left to do, and that’s to walk into the fireplace and hope for the best. I’m tempted to ask her why we can’t put the flames out before I walk in, but I know she’ll give me some lame excuse about the universe requiring more of me than that.

  Spirituality isn’t my thing, nor is magic, so I won’t overthink it. My one option is to cross my fingers and hope I don’t fry.

  If your heart is true, I keep hearing in my head.

  My heart’s true—it’s fucking beating, isn’t it? If th
is has something to do with being a good person, well, my odds aren’t all that good. I’ve done a lot of awful shit in my life.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I move toward the fire, fighting to push the thought of Veerka out of my head. Not that sex is a bad thing, but thoughts of sex and booze have been all-consuming lately.

  Okay, that’s a lie. It isn’t only lately; they’re always on my mind.

  Clenching my fist, I reach out a hand and feel the fire’s warmth spread across my knuckles. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve walked through more fires than I can count, but not intentionally. And it was a quick in-and-out—something I’m not too fond of.

  You aren’t a bad person, Alexis. Bad shit happened to you.

  I roll my eyes at my self-talk. How is it that my mind is now trying to give me some speech about being a good person? Did this lady brainwash me or something?

  “Why do you want to find Devania?” comes the woman’s mousy voice again.

  With my fist still extended in front of me, I turn my head. Didn’t I already answer this? Veerka asked me—

  “Who would benefit from you finding the Black Widow?” she asks.

  “A lot of people,” I say. “Sons of bitches like Lucius get away with ruining lives every single day.”

  The words surprise me more than they appear to surprise her. Why did I even say that? I don’t give a shit about other people. This world isn’t my problem, and it sure as hell isn’t my job to fix it. Besides, even if I wanted to, it’s out of my control. The only thing I have control over is myself.

  “This is your chance to fight for the greater good,” she says.

  I can’t help it—finally, my eyes roll, and as they do, the woman reaches into the side of her cloak. From her oversized pocket, she extracts what appears to be a small doll made of straw and hemp, while its hands and feet are made of carved wood. Its left hand, however, is cut in half. From anyone else’s perspective, this thing might look like some creepy ass voodoo doll from the Middle Ages.

  But to me, it’s the most precious thing in the world.

  “Where did you get this?” I say, my words coming out as more of a bark.

  She smiles at me for the first time, and I feel comforted. There’s something about her eyes… I know this woman. Why won’t she tell me who she is? Something catches my attention—a glimmer coming from her chest.

 

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