by Cindy Mezni
“Of course . . . How could it have been otherwise?” I said, pretending to feel amusement.
Ezekiel adored telling his exploits or, at least, telling them to a person who’d make the rumor known to everybody. It sustained the legend which surrounded him. I should have suspected that his henchmen knew about it. After all, it set the tone. Either you respected him and didn’t encroach on his territory or he made you pay a hundred-fold for it. His cruelty had only one limit: his imagination. And Satan knew that Ezekiel was never short of ideas.
The story I’d mentioned was the one of a male which had dared to brush me when he passed next to me. In return, it was his genitals which had passed away. I didn’t know what Ezekiel had done of his trophy, but the owner had never got them back and had to live without. Although, not for too long as he died a few days later during a fight. One could say that Ezekiel never showed leniency. You either went along with him or you paid the high price for it.
“By the way, you wouldn’t want to release me now?” I said to the male who was still holding me tightly against him.
So tightly that I felt everything happening below his belt. And I could assert there was a lot of activity down there. Ignoring my demands, he didn’t move an inch.
“Well, if you so badly want for him to cut off your equipment, it’s your problem. Anyway, considering what you have between your legs, it won’t be much of a loss.”
After a few seconds of reflection, without even commenting on my last sentence, he released me. About time . . . I took two steps back, put my hand on his shoulder to use him as a support and kneed him in the balls. Apparently, he hadn’t seen it coming, given his look of surprise as he put one of his hands on the victims of my revenge.
“Bit—”
“Not that insult again, please,” I said with tiredness before adding in an ironic tone, “A real male doesn’t whine. Your master didn’t teach you that?”
Angry as ever, he clenched his jaw. He was holding himself back from striking me, for sure. Ezekiel had probably ordered that nobody touched me. He had to reserve for himself the pleasure to disfigure or mutilate me.
“We’ll see if you keep smiling if I kick you between the legs,” he mumbled.
“You can try to see what will be my reaction,” I challenged him.
If he dared to come toward me, I’d kill him. I felt my power coming back little by little and, as soon as I felt ready, I wouldn’t hesitate to use it. And the first one who would see my true colors would be this stupid male who was so full of himself.
“Don’t tempt me . . .”
“Here’s our dearest Nemesis!” somebody exclaimed behind me.
A feminine voice, screeching and unpleasant. I was afraid I knew whom it belonged to. I turned around slowly. Indeed, I wasn’t wrong. Dark hair, green eyes and fair skin. It was indeed Denaë who still looked like me too much and who was too close to me for my liking. I offered her my most hypocritical smile.
“Denaë,” I said with fake enthusiasm. “Still obsessed with Ezekiel?”
“And you, still a whore?” she retorted, wearing a smile as false as mine on her face.
I raised my eyebrows. She was one to talk!
“Nothing changes,” I said in response.
“You’re telling me!” she said before laughing.
This sound was definitively the most exasperating noise I’d ever heard.
“Much to my chagrin, you always end up standing between Ezekiel and me.”
It was my turn to burst out laughing. That was a good one. I quickly pulled myself together.
“It’s your Ezekiel who forces me to stand in the way of both of you,” I replied, my tone biting and cold. I couldn’t refrain from adding something, some seconds later, “It’s not my fault if I’m his obsession, that he can’t live without me and you don’t matter to him.”
How many times in the past did we confront one another because of him? I’d stopped counting by the fifth time. This little war between she and I had always pleased Ezekiel. It was why he’d never tried to pull us apart when we fought. Except the time when, if he hadn’t intervened, I would undoubtedly have ripped Denaë’s heart out. Or her head off. Ezekiel had always been like that. Feeling wanted pleased him and fed his over-sized ego. If there were two things which this exile liked, it was to be desired by females and feared by males.
“You’re talking nonsense!” she barked.
She was sure I was lying. As usual. Even if she’d been confronted with the truth time and time again, she’d never wanted to face it. She harbored illusions. Ezekiel loved nobody, except himself. I might have stirred up his interest, but he’d never really cared about me. But if I didn’t count for him, Denaë had absolutely no value to him. He didn’t feel admiration or anything else for her. For Ezekiel, she was only an idiot who followed him blindly and who was sometimes useful. If I hadn’t hated this female so much, and if I’d been capable of feeling one ounce of compassion, I would maybe have been able to feel sorry for the female that she was.
“Where is he?” I asked with abruptness.
I was tired of talking with the henchmen who talked for the sake of talking. I wanted to face Ezekiel. Now.
“There’s no hurry,” Denaë said with a roguish grin. “Meanwhile . . . come!” she added, shouting her last word.
Becoming alert, I looked around me to see whom she addressed. I quickly had my answer. I felt their presence before seeing them. Other Nëphyr, obviously, but . . . vampires? What the Devil were blood suckers doing with the Mëvia? I didn’t have the slightest idea, but it was certain they had to deal with me because they were encircling me.
“Ezekiel said we had the right to have some fun with you, as long as we didn’t kill you,” Denaë confided to me enthusiastically.
I’d been wrong. He didn’t reserve himself the right to pummel me. His accomplices had his permission to play with me before he took over. Denaë wasn’t feigning her joy. She was ecstatic to have the opportunity to beat the Hell out of me. She’d probably had time to ponder her revenge during these years away from me.
“Fancy that!” I exclaimed, observing the members of the circle that had formed around me. “You’re just eleven against me. That, that’s what I call a fair fight!”
Some faces welcomed my remark with a savage smile whereas others remained imperturbable. What a bunch of cowards! It was a typical behavior of the exiles, these pathetic beings who were just about good enough to betray, to run away and kill in group.
“All at the same time or would somebody like to come first?”
I was trying to gain time. The more minutes went by, the more I got my strength back. I had to think, and fast, about a plan to get rid of Ezekiel’s minions before finding him and taking care of him. If I had to die today or in the next days, one thing was sure, he would die, too. It was out of the question for this bastard to walk any longer on this earth.
“I’m willing to take you first.”
This sentence with the evident innuendo had come from behind me. I turned around. A male with brown hair, having been transformed in his thirties visibly, was standing proudly a few meters away from me, a disdainful expression on his face. Given the smell emanating from him, I could tell he was a vampire.
“I look forward to seeing what a stiff like you is capable of doing,” I said with a smile I wanted to be as alluring as possible while I gestured for him to approach.
He smiled back at me. The male moved slowly in my direction like a cat stalking a mouse. Hoping that it would work, I called upon the Psychokinesaë. With relief, I felt my gift react within me. I moved the body of a car so that it hit him head-on. He and the wreck crashed into the wall of a building, which crumbled in several places due to the violent impact. Not wasting any time, I ran toward the vampire who’d had his neck broken. It meant he was momentarily out. As the regeneration of vampires went much faster than our kind, I hadn’t a moment to lose. I knelt down by his side to tear his heart out and reduce it t
o a pulp when somebody grabbed my hair. I emitted a howl of rage as the person dragged me back to the middle of the circle. Other Nëphyr were still standing where they were from the start. Some were stoic, others showed their satisfaction upon seeing me in a bad situation. Again, I tried to use one of my gifts, but the use of the Psychokinesaë had stolen all my energy. I tried then to free myself by opting for the good old fashioned method, which consisted of struggling and striking the opponent but, yet again, it was impossible. The one who’d seized my hair kept me at a certain distance from his body and forced me to kneel down, which prevented me from using my legs.
I was sure my time had come.
But, all of a sudden, Kämena and Volker appeared. The fight began between both Nëphyr of my clan and minions of Ezekiel who were a dozen. I watched the blond giant and new Nëphyr fighting with the exiles but the battle was tough. The followers of Ezekiel were well trained and even if Volker was, too, and succeeded in controlling his attackers, it wasn’t the case of Kämena. He was covered with blood and his five aggressors were literally slaughtering him. Furious, I struggled even more to escape from the Nëphyr holding me and stand up. A vain attempt. I spotted a big stone a few centimeters away from me, probably a piece of the building, which had collapsed. I stretched out my arm as much as possible to reach it. And, without any hesitation, I turned my head and threw it right in the face of the Nëphyr who was holding my hair. The impact and surprise forced him to let go of me and I took advantage of the situation to get up. Not giving him time to recover, I rushed at him and pierced his rib cage to tear his heart out. He tried to defend himself when he understood my intentions but he didn’t have time. I extracted the organ from his chest and threw it away as his body, limp, fell heavily on the concrete.
I turned my head to see where Volker and Kämena were. Kämena obviously got rid of all his opponents by using his gift, the Electraë, because steaming bodies were all around him. He was on all fours on the ground, facing the consequences of using a power he didn’t fully control yet. For his part, Volker was still grappling with his two adversaries, the others being dead. Too late, I spotted Denaë who was sneaking behind him to give him a deathblow.
“No!” I shouted while rushing at her, my blood seething with anger.
As Denaë and I went to fall on the sidewalk, Volker’s head was already on the ground, separated from the rest of his body.
“Oops,” Denaë said, trapped under my weight, while smiling at me with mockery. “Looks like I made him lose his head. Literally.”
“Shut your mouth!”
My head-butt was so powerful I heard the bones of her nose when they broke.
“My nose! You have—”
I slapped her.
“I told you to shut your damn mouth!”
One of the two last opponents Volker hadn’t had the time to kill tried to take me away from her while the other one stayed away, looking at the scene. Not knowing how, I managed to reuse the Pyronnaë and point it at him. He began to howl with pain as his body caught fire. Obviously, seeing the way he ignited, it was a blood sucker. If nobody put out the flames, he would die very soon. His accomplice left running when he saw the spectacle. Since the remaining vampire didn’t risk bothering me anymore, I focused on Kämena who was kneeling on the ground and staring at me with a mixture of incredulity, fascination and horror.
“Leave, Kämena,” I ordered him severely, punching Denaë when she tried to bite me to make me release her.
“But—”
“Right now!” I ordered in a final tone of voice.
When Ezekiel came, I didn’t want him to have the opportunity to kill other members of my clan.
I refocused all my attention on Denaë who kept trying to get rid of my hold, trapped between the ground and I. She was going to be entitled to a special treatment, having made my life a misery during so many years and having killed a member of the Ameïan clan before my eyes. The rain, which had slowly stopped, started falling again. The thunder began to rumble as my nails lacerated her perfect face she loved so much. She screamed with fury while I took malicious pleasure in inflicting this treatment upon her. Denaë managed to get rid of me and threw me away. She immediately rushed at me, going for the kill, but I retaliated. We were fighting like two animals. There were no holds barred: blows, scratches, bites . . . The quantity of water coming pouring down on our heads rose to a crescendo. Yet, we still fought and the battle was merciless. None of us really got the upper hand.
That was until she succeed in holding me down.
“Give up,” Denaë said and growled. “If it’s not me who kills you, Ezekiel will do it. We both know it’s better for you if it’s me.”
I tried to throw her a punch. In vain. She’d managed to grab my arm in time and held it firmly on the ground. I tried to use one of my gifts to get her to release me, but nothing worked. Damn it! It wasn’t the moment for them to fail me again!
“Give up,” she repeated ferociously. “If you do it, I swear I’ll kill you fast.”
Was she serious? No, because if she believed I was a coward, it meant she didn’t know me at all.
“Go to Hell, Denaë! I’ll never give up. Never,” I reaffirmed before head butting her again strongly and she released me due to another bone of her face broken.
The confrontation started up again with even greater intensity. The kicks, the bestial shouts and blood spurted out from everywhere. I had the feeling this fight would never stop. She bit my throat and raised her head to stare at me in triumph. Within the space of a second, she became petrified, wide-eyed, as if she’d seen a ghost. During this off-guard moment, I broke her cervical vertebrae. She collapsed on the ground. I only had to tear her heart or head off and she would be well and truly dead. I opted for the second choice. I knelt down by her side and positioned my hands on both sides of her face. At the last moment, my hands stayed still. What was wrong with me? Why was I hesitating? I ardently wished to separate her head from her body with a snap. But I did nothing. I stayed there, without making the slightest movement while watching her face and her lifeless eyes. And suddenly, a fit of rage invaded me, the monster in me roared powerfully and my indecision vanished. Without prevaricating any longer, I pulled Denaë’s head off before throwing it away, unable to bear seeing this damn face anymore.
“It’d been a long time since I’d had the opportunity to see you at work. I’d forgotten how arousing it was.”
So that was what distracted Denaë, I thought. Not surprising, he’d always been her weakness. A weakness which had ended up costing her her life. I didn’t even need to turn around to see who it was. This suave, warm and arrogant voice could only belong to a single person on this earth. No other male, regardless of his race, possessed such inflections.
The Mëvia was here, in flesh and bone. And the hour of confrontation had come.
I wanted to get up and spin around to face him but I couldn’t do it. I tried again. Impossible. What the Devil was going on?
“You’re not turning around to welcome me? I’m hurt,” he told me, pretending to be offended.
How I wanted to send him back to Hell! But I was incapable of it. My mouth remained sealed.
“I’m starting to lose patience,” he let out, his tone having lost all its suaveness.
His voice had become harsh and authoritarian. It still lost nothing of its power. The words which he pronounced, no matter the tone, always made you want to listen to him and follow his orders without batting an eyelash. Lucky me, I was definitively immune against the virtues of his voice. The time when I pandered to his every whim was over.
“Would you grant me the pleasure of spinning around to look into my eyes when I speak to you?”
I wished so much to rip his throat, to tear his heart out even if I had doubts about its existence. And all this before tearing his head off as I’d just done with Denaë and setting fire to the rest of him so that there was nothing left of the vile scumbag he was.
“Turn a
round, Nemesis,” he exclaimed with impatience.
As if I wasn’t conscious it was he who did that to me! It was he who prevented me from using my own body and who controlled it in my place with his damn gift, the Spiritaë. He’d never have been able to do that to me if I hadn’t been so weak after having used my powers. But as soon as I found a way to free myself from his influence, I’d take care of him.
“I thought you were stronger than that,” he told me, feigning disappointment.
His remark made me mad. I was powerful. I was capable of resisting him or fighting off his gift. I was strong enough to kill him. And I was going to show this to him no later than now.
“I’m strong!”
Thanks to the strength of the will I used to control my own body, my hand began to move and pierce violently the rib cage of Denaë’s corpse.
“See,” I declared while standing up and whirling around to look him in the eye.
I threw toward him the heart I’d just extracted. He caught it with a precise movement. I observed the attitude of the blond male with the beauty deserving of a fallen angel, dressed with class and all in black, and I noticed he had no reaction. I wasn’t even surprised. It was typical of him, after all. It wasn’t as if he’d had feelings for Denaë. She’d only been a mistress among so many others.
“I can see that,” he told me, almost appreciative. “However, may I know why you give me her heart?”
“It could be useful to you when I’ve torn out yours and reduced it to ashes,” I said, dead serious.
He laughed, probably remembering the promise I’d made to him in case we met again. He might have one of the most pleasant laughs I’d ever heard, yet it sounded strange. It was just false appearances, lies and treason when it came to Ezekiel. Everything was perfectly planned, calculated so that it served his only interest. Suddenly, he took a piece of Denaë’s heart, threw the rest down like it was some common waste, put it in his mouth, chewed it, and swallowed it. Besides the fact it was blasphemous and that, in the Nëphyrian society, his act would have cost him his life, it was mostly disgusting. By Lucifer, it was the heart of his mistress!