by Taryn Eason
He had an intense look in his eye, but I could see that he was shaking. “That wasn't the plan. You killed Pierre’s daughter so we’re killing the ones who matter to you. Anything else we do to you is just a bonus check for us.” He laughed, but I knew he was only acting cocky to hide his fear. “After that pretty little car I totaled, that's two down already for me. At least, assuming I don't have to unload another round into Mother Teresa over there.”
He had been driving that SUV. I fumed with anger until I comprehended the second part of what he said. I looked over to Delilah to see that she was sitting against the wall of the hotel clutching her stomach. Blood was forming on her clothes rapidly. I hadn't realized that she had been hit while everyone was shooting at me.
I was horrified, seeing her still in shock staring at her wound, but I quickly sucked it up. Weakness would get me nowhere. Acting tough was the only way to get out of this without too many casualties. Colt was about to find out how much better I was than him at his own game. “Oh yeah, I'd hate it if you killed my parents too. Want their address?” I laughed. “What's your number? I'll text it to you so you’ll get to use both the GPS and that nice little battering ram on your Tahoe.”
“Shit.” That caught him off guard. He had no idea who he was messing with. I was an eighteen year old sadist with superpowers, and he was just a normal street thug.
I stepped closer slowly, blocking him in between myself and the brick wall behind him. “Giving me nothing else to lose was the worst mistake you've made in your pathetic little life. Honestly, I was about to kill Delilah myself until you saved her from me.” I glanced over at her. “This is probably the best way for her to go, actually. It makes for a better looking funeral. You know, open casket and all.”
Truthfully, I wished I could save Delilah. I needed to act fast so I could get her to a hospital. I still hated her for refusing to save Lye, but I couldn't lose them both in the same day. She would always be my sister and I think, deep down, I knew I could never kill her. Not even in my blind rage in the hotel. It just took seeing her bleeding out in an alleyway to realize it. I hated to admit it, but Pierre was a very smart man. He knew exactly what he was doing the whole time. He made it his mission to kill the ones who would break me the most, since he couldn't kill me. I just had to outsmart him or shock him in enough time to save Delilah.
“You don't care about anyone, do you?” Colt responded.
I felt my heart aching even more than my body. “I cared about one person. How does it feel to be the one who took him from me?” I grew hotter, and, unable to restrain myself, I saw his skin begin to blister.
He was frozen, even though he was clearly in pain. “Are you…” he swallowed. “Are you going to kill me?”
“No, I'm not too fond of killing people.” I replied. I didn't want to kill him. I really, really didn't want to. The thought of burning him to death was unbelievably unappealing. But I couldn't think of any other way to end this in enough time to get Delilah out alive. So I thought of another way.
He sighed at my response and the corner of his mouth upturned thankfully, assuming that he was in the clear. The thought of him still being able to smile after everything pissed me off. This guy seriously believes that he deserves to be let off the hook for all he’s done? Yeah right.
“You're going to kill yourself.” I stated.
He paused. “What?”
Everyone around was staring at us. Except for Pierre, of course. They should have chosen a better alleyway if they wanted to escape from me, instead of one that was blocked on three sides. Now they were my forced audience.
“You heard me. Pull out your gun.”
He did so, eyes as wide as saucers.
“Now put it to your head.”
His hand was shaking badly, rattling the gun as he pressed it to his temple.
“Pull the trigger.”
A sob escaped his mouth. “I can't do it.” He cried.
I looked at the rest of the men, all staring at me in horror. Why did they try to ruin my life at all? Why couldn't they have just left me alone so that I wouldn't have to be a murderer? I hated acting like this, but if over-acting for the shock factor kept me from collapsing onto the floor into a pool of my own tears, then so be it. Self-preservation was the strongest instinct I had.
“Why is it so easy for him to kill others, yet he won't even do it to himself? I mean, how selfish are you, Colt? Do you really think your life matters more than anyone else’s? Because it doesn't. You've always been a piece of shit. Just pull the trigger and let's get this over with.”
He cried loudly, tears and snot running down his face because he was too scared of me to even wipe them off. I frowned. He really couldn't pull the trigger. I thought about sparing him, because I wanted to be a good person. But then I remembered he admitted to killing Lye and my temper got the best of me.
Before I could stop myself, I held out my hand and lit it brightly. It melted the gun and forced it to fire. There was a loud noise as Colt’s head jostled and he fell to the ground, lifeless.
Chapter 30
I breathed in deeply to calm myself, trying to block out the image of his brains being blown sideways across the alleyway. There was a silence as I stared down and realized that I had ended another life the same way as I had in Chicago. But this time, I had to save Delilah instead of Lye, and she was in no condition to run from me. So I had to handle this situation by other means.
I stared at Pierre as I walked, ignoring the others, who hid behind him, using the blind man as a human shield against his knowledge. They didn't try to defend him, but how could they? They were only humans. They knew they couldn't even touch me.
I leaned in close to him, enough for him to feel my heat. “Do you recognize my voice?”
He instantly cowered, nodding his head quickly like a child being scolded.
“Does it haunt you?”
“Yes.” He said, his eyes a watery, glassy blue.
“Good. Because after all you've put me through, you should be very afraid of me.” I said.
“I am.” He replied. His men still stood behind him silently. It was pathetic how cowardly they were all being. Especially Pierre, clenching his jaw to hide his true emotions. The Glitch’s fearless leader, former hitman, reduced to this by a teenage girl? I expected better.
“Alright, I need some answers, while you're still alive to give them. I need to know why you came after me in the first place. There wasn't anything better for you to do that day or what? Because I didn't want to have to do any of this, but you left me no choice.”
He composed himself and stared at me blankly as he spoke. “I guess I do owe you that much. Word of what you had done to Colt had spread, and you were almost an urban legend by the time it got back to me. I found out Lye, of all people, had taken you under his wing. I needed to see you for myself, just to see if you were real, but after I saw Colt’s face for the first time, I wanted you dead.”
He stood taller, still staring at the empty space behind me. “I stand by my opinion that something like you shouldn't exist. I knew there was no way for me to kill you after the incident that night. But, thanks to you, I learned firsthand that losing all those you love is just as awful as death. After losing Melanie, I needed for you to feel my pain, and I prayed that you couldn't handle it. I wanted you to curl up and die in your pain, not use it as motivation.” He unclenched his fist. “But I guess that was my biggest mistake. I shouldn't have tried to psychoanalyze you on human terms. You're a demon, Maybelle, and you shouldn't exist.”
I burned hotter, even though I was exhausted. “I was an eighteen year old girl who never asked for any of this. I wanted to live my life in a normal way. I never wanted to hurt anyone. You're the one who made me into this.” I spoke, wishing he could see me in my white-hot glory. “You made me kill people. You took me from my normal life and threw me into this hell. So who's the real demon?”
He didn't reply fast enough, so I kept going. “Tell
me, if you really do believe that I'm a demon, why did you willingly put yourself into this vulnerable position tonight if you knew I'd be here?”
He smiled at my question as if he was almost embarrassed by it. “I wanted to kill Delilah to make you suffer. I wanted both of the ones closest to you to die in the same day, so that you could come close to feeling the pain of losing your only child.” He closed his eyes and breathed deep to calm himself. “But today my own interests conflicted with my mission. I've followed Delilah’s story, I watch her show. The magic that came with her was kind of a guilty pleasure of mine, in the same way yours was, except that she was, well, far more likeable than you are. She was an angel. I really didn't want to hurt her. I wanted to come here in person so that I could at least make her heal my blindness before we killed her. I didn't think that you would be out of the hospital away from Lye’s body so fast. I assumed her security team would be our biggest challenge. I didn't account for you being her security.” He smirked. “But seeing as I haven't heard her cry in a while, you're probably not good at that job though.”
I stared at him, unsettled by his answer. His suit was still clean and his gray balding hair was kept. He stood confidently, even more so than he was only a few minutes ago. Why was he so unafraid of me now? He had even grown cocky enough to take a jab at me in that last statement. Maybe it was because he couldn't see what I look like, but it just didn't make sense for a drug lord/ex-hitman to be so calm on the day he expected to be his last.
Then it hit me.
“You're a fantastic liar, you know. Why couldn't you have just overdosed or shot yourself like a normal person?”
He stiffened. I cracked a smile, knowing I’d found my weapon. “Killing yourself is too damaging for your reputation, right? You want to go out with a bang so you'll be remembered. Let's see, I killed your only daughter and all your best men, which let another gang start a war and effectively brought the Glitch down. Now what do you have? This bunch of ragtag guys who aren't even brave enough to stand in front of you?”
His shield cracked and I watched the tears begin to form in his eyes faster than he could stop them. His men exchanged concerned glances with one another.
“You want me to kill you so that you get to go down as a legend instead of outliving your golden age.”
“That's speculation. I don't want to kill myself.” He said, wiping his eyes nonchalantly. Nobody believed his act.
“That's right. You want me to do it for you, but only after you've made your name famous. You want to make it into history books for killing Delilah. I get this game. I like it.” I looked around. “You guys should watch this. This is going to be on the news tomorrow. If you're lucky, one of you might even get interviewed.”
“Please just kill us already, I can't keep waiting to die. It's torture.” One of the men cried out. He had snot running down his face. I had assumed it was from the cold, but it appeared to be out of fear. I hadn't even noticed him and he was still so terrified. I wonder what he had been told about me.
He was around my age, skinny and tattooed with green beaded braids in his hair. I felt sorry for him. He was probably just a misguided kid who had gotten swept up in a life too fast for him to keep up with emotionally. I could definitely relate. “What have you ever done to me?” I asked.
“No-nothing, ma'am.” He replied, not making eye contact.
“Colt killed my boyfriend and shot my sister. And this prick right here ordered all of it, along with trying to kill me a few times.” I fell down to my normal form temporarily and tried to hide my exhausted panting after keeping myself burning for so long. He and a few others stared at me strangely, as if amazed that I was a real human like them. “I'm not a demon. I'm not evil. And I don't have anything against you. You can leave if you want to.” I said, stopping frequently to breathe.
He nodded and ran away quickly. I looked over and saw that Delilah was staring at me, crying silently. A wave of thankfulness washed over me at the fact that she was still alive. That means I must have a little bit more time than I thought to save her. I could always leave now and take her to the hospital, but I knew if I did so, nothing would change. Pierre was obsessed with me, and would always find a way to me if I didn't burn this bridge right here. I was done living in fear and I was done watching people die.
Pierre felt my heat drop and shouted, “What do you want from me? Just kill us already and stop wasting my time with all of this!”
I smiled. He wouldn't admit it openly, but I knew I was right about his motive tonight. “I want an apology first.”
“I'm sorry for killing Lye.” He stated stoically.
“Not good enough, mob boss.” I slowly lit myself again and he began to shake, feeling the heat and knowing he had only minutes left.
“I went after you and you ruined me. I didn't even stand a chance at hurting you. I regret everything I've done. I should have just left you alone.” His voice grew weaker. “Please, just hurry up and kill me already so I don't have to keep living like this.” His face was red from both crying and being burned by me. Tears were wet on his cheeks.
I pointed to the ground, forgetting that he couldn't see. “Down. On your knees.” I commanded, smiling sadistically. “Beg me to kill you.”
As soon as he knelt at my feet, the waterworks began. He was sobbing an embarrassingly loud apology, or maybe a plea, that I understood maybe a third of. This man who had tried to take everything from me was lying at my feet, getting gravel all over his tailored suit, crying for me to kill him. I was convinced that no human had ever felt as invincible as I did in that moment in all of history.
I exchanged a smile with one of his men. As I looked back down, I felt a stab of guilt ruining my feeling of triumph. I saw only this middle aged man who had lost everything. He was feeling so low that he was literally begging me to kill him just to end his suffering. He wasn't any worse of a person than I was. He was just a man who had reacted to the situations in life that he had been placed into. Sure, I still hated him for what he had done, but I was just as imperfect, so I would be a hypocrite if I faulted him for it.
Even though a large part of me still wanted him dead, I didn't have any right to kill him. Colt had told me of his plans to continue pursuing Delilah and me. But what could Pierre do? His bodyguards were a shaking bunch of untrained youth. Plus, what self respecting hitman would still work for someone after they saw them lying at a teenage girl’s feet and groveling? He didn't have any leverage anymore, so he wasn't even worth killing.
“Wow, I'm starting to feel just like my sister.” I joked, turning back again to make sure she was still alright. “I decided I'm not going to waste my powers on you.”
“What are you going to do to me then?” He stammered, still kissing the ground with his cheeks.
“Absolutely nothing.” I replied blankly.
He looked up at me with a confused expression and began to stand up to protest. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a bubble of blood, startling everyone.
He struggled to speak, but all he could manage were choked coughs, being unable to breathe. He desperately reached for his throat before collapsing onto the ground face-first with the knife still in the back of his neck.
I stared at the blood, trying to contemplate what had just happened. All of the men were wide-eyed except for one. He was a tall, buff blond in his early twenties, who was standing right behind Pierre.
“You.” I started, swallowing my shock. “Let me guess. He told you that you were second-in-command in case he died, right?”
He nodded quickly. I knew he felt mislead at Pierre’s inability to live up to his reputation as this fearless mob boss. But who could blame him? The shot was right there and he had so much to gain from ending him, especially since he learned that I wouldn't do it for him. I watched him stare down at the knife wound. He seemed to be starting to comprehend the emotional gravity of taking another human’s life. I watched him, reminiscing. He was handling it mile
s better than I had.
“Well, congrats. You're now the leader of a dead street gang. Have fun.” I patted him on the shoulder as I cooled down and left to go pick up my sister. “By the way, just a tip, you all should probably leave before the cops get here.”
I watched them out of the corner of my eye as they scattered, thankful for the chance to finally be alone to help Delilah.
I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that Pierre was finally gone. Now I could finally sleep safely at night.
Even though it meant I would be sleeping alone.
Chapter 31
As soon as Delilah and I were alone, my adrenaline rush crashed and I could barely move. I stumbled over to her, fighting the urge to pass out. Between my injuries and the physical cost to maintain my powers, I was finished.
I just wanted to get to her. I had to make sure she was okay and that I actually saved someone for a change. My vision was tunneling and when I was about a foot away from her, I collapsed.
“Nope, you're not going to sleep just yet.” Delilah said, moaning in pain as she crawled to me, closing the gap in between us. She reached out her arm and touched it to mine. I felt the Reeki flowing warmly through my veins as I regained my lucidity.
I caught my breath and began clenching my hand, testing out my now unbroken arm. “Thanks, Delly.”
“Your turn now, fix me.” She said, pointing to the blood-soaked jacket-tourniquet on her stomach. It had begun dripping from the soaked fabric, startling both of us. Getting up to come heal me had sprung something loose and she was losing a lot of blood.
I was nervous at the sight of it, but I retained my composure. I laughed, “Yeah right, how could I help you?”
She removed the jacket that she had been holding in place and the blood began flowing faster from the hole in her stomach. My heart dropped. “Cauterize this so I don't bleed out before the ambulance gets here.”