by Tamryn Tamer
“You’re his familiar,” Loki’s eyes darted around. “What? He doesn’t have the balls to fight me so you just do it?”
“Doesn’t have the balls?” Mirage unsheathed her other knife thrust it into Loki’s cock without hesitation. “Who doesn’t have balls?”
“Argh! Fuck!” Loki screamed out in pain as Mirage jiggled the handle. He dropped to his knees holding his mutilated groin. “You crazy fucking…”
“Never,” Mirage relentlessly struck Loki in the face with the butt of her knife over and over again. “Ever! Ever! Ever! Ever! Ever! Ever! Ever! Ever! Ever! Talk about my darling like that!”
“Ugh,” Loki swayed back and forth half-conscious as his face became a crushed bloody mess. He started to fall down but Mirage pulled him back up. “Bitch…”
“I love Jericho,” Mirage stared at the broken man. She knew once she killed him, he’d likely come back to life. She gathered as much from her discussions with Jinx and Ariel about Jericho’s resurrection. She knew he probably thought that coming back made him strong, but coming back could also be a weakness. “I love my family. I love my home. And you threatened that. That was a mistake.”
“I’m going to fucking butcher you,” Loki threatened as Mirage slowly sliced his arm off. As she looked at him, she decided he didn’t yet understand, but he would, she’d make him. She transformed her face to that of a nightmarish monstrosity, “Fuck…”
“Do you understand yet?” Mirage let out a deafening roar from her thousand-fanged mouth as she grabbed his other arm and started slicing. Mirage saw the fear in his eyes and knew he was finally starting to get it. She patted the bloody stumps where his arms had been, “If you come after those I love, I will hunt you down and we’ll do this as many times as it takes for you to understand. And this will get much worse. Now tell me you understand.”
“I understand,” Loki squeaked out.
“Good,” Mirage sliced off Loki’s head and transformed her face back to normal. She looted both bodies and destroyed the recording and everything else she picked up, except the gold. She figured she could use it to buy some presents for the others.
“Damn,” She realized she’d probably taken too long and they’d be worried. She turned and began blinking back to Jericho as fast as she could.
She was in such a hurry she almost passed them as she blinked down the path. The three of them were cuddled up under a tree.
“Why are you stopped here?” Mirage looked around.
“The idiot insisted we wait for you,” Jinx said angrily. “You were taking too long and he got worried. Slowpoke. Snail.”
“We told him you’d probably be fine,” Ariel said. “You’re an assassin after all.”
“She’s an ex-assassin,” Jericho brushed off his pants as he rose to greet her. “And I wasn’t worried.”
“You liar,” Ariel laughed. “You stopped and looked back every minute.”
“I did not,” Jericho objected.
“You did! Liar. Cad.” Jinx said.
“Sorry to worry you,” Mirage smiled at Jericho’s flustered face. “It took me a while to find where I set it.”
“Alright! Let’s go!” Jinx yelled rushing ahead. “Last one to the bedroom only gets to watch! Stragglers! Slackers!”
“No fair!” Ariel flew off after Jinx.
“I really wasn’t worried,” Jericho insisted.
“You should be,” Mirage grinned wickedly. “I’m pretty sure you’re the slowest one here. But I’ll give you a five-second head start to be nice.”
“Shit,” Jericho sprinted off hoping not to be last.
Mirage used to believe that happiness was something fleeting. But after becoming Jericho’s familiar she realized that lasting happiness was possible.
Nobody was going to take that away from her.
The End
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Copyright © 2019 by Tamryn Tamer. All rights reserved. www.tamryntamer.com & www.smirkpublishing.com.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher. Except in the cases permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All characters are eighteen years or older.