by C. Lymari
No one would want to talk about what went down in this club, and that gave me a fighting chance.
Geoffrey’s touch started on my leg. I fought the urge to move and kick him out. That’s when I felt the strap on my ankle. I was still wearing my heels. Good, another weapon.
“I want to go first before she wakes,” a Southern drawl said.
“You dirty bastard, is necrophilia a Southern thing?” a playful young voice said. I was disgusted they could joke about this.
The Southern one was by me in no time. When you were in tune with your senses, you could feel a person’s presence even in the dark. So with my eyes closed, I knew he circled the bed. He stopped until he was at my feet. If there was a God, I prayed my shoes stayed on.
His hot, wet slime traced a path from my ankle to my thigh. My throat burned. I wanted to scream and burn the world down with it. Why did we as women get belittled by taking control over our bodies? Why was raping us an act of shaming, power, and superiority? What did we ever do to the world to deserve such fate?
He kissed the inside of my thigh, and I felt both his hands at my feet, ready to open my legs and bare my pussy to him.
You are Sekten. You do not bow to any man. You do not yield to kingdoms, and you do not swear alliance to any nation.
My babushka’s words gave me strength. She was my rock. She was royalty amongst thieves before she died—she passed her crown on to me.
Right my wrongs—I didn’t know where to start, but now I knew I couldn’t die before setting the underworld right. I relaxed my body, and as soon as he spread my thighs, I lifted my left leg bringing it down to meet my right. His eyes were wide with shock, and I smiled at him.
My code name came from a flower—daphnes were poisonous. The Sekt taught us many things, and poisons were my thing. My babushka was proud, so she chose my code name for me.
Venom dripped from my lips as my smile spread wider. With his head between my legs, I flipped on my stomach and heard the snap of his neck breaking.
Panic and anger flared amongst the remaining men when they realized the sacrificial lamb they’d brought to their feast turned out to be a snake.
I quickly turned to look at the room, and Gideon was fighting with whom I assumed was a guard.
One of the men was in a corner trying to leave when a much younger man with pale skin and brown hair stopped him. Interesting. I didn’t have much time to think about it when I saw White coming my way.
I seriously despised politicians thinking they were above anyone else. Their heads were so high in the clouds, they even forgot their so-called laws.
He was tall and thin with a long oval face. His hair was already graying, not entirely but half white and black. How women of the city found him alluring was beyond me. He reeked of violence and corruption.
“You’re not getting out of this alive.” He grabbed my head and threw me against the wall.
Gideon screamed, “Touch your fucking pussy!”
If I could, I would have glared at him.
White was on me, his finger digging into my neck, trying to choke me. I couldn’t say that my training had prepared me from grabbing a weapon that was stashed inside my pussy as I was being choked to death.
When you lived in the shadows, you really did see it all. I am a weapon. I remained calm because if you panicked, you died.
It took all my strength to raise my hips enough for my hand to meet the apex of my thighs.
I was running out of oxygen. I could hold my breath for three minutes. I hadn’t taken a proper breath, so I had about thirty seconds before I lost consciousness, and another minute before he killed me. His fingers were digging into me, and I kept trying to move my neck enough so he wouldn’t snap my throat as I had done to his friend.
Our bodies were designed to be indestructible machines. People forgot how we came from nothing and relied too much on technology and became lazy. My body went lax. My insides were on overdrive, begging me to breathe. Every instinct in me needed me to fight. When I met a small string between my legs, I knew I was ready to do just that.
The object that was in me was long and made out of plastic. The tip was metal covered by a plastic cover. Quickly I removed the cover from the tip.
My arm felt like it weighed thirty pounds. Everything was telling me to give up to succumb to the darkness.
You need to right my wrongs. You need to make Sekten the sovereign it was meant to be. You, my poisonous flower, must avenge my death.
My grandmother did not die in vain. I brought the sharp blade and jammed it into his side, making Geoffrey howl in pain. I turned around, taking a deep breath that felt like I was inhaling flames, and kicked him hard in his ribs. He moved, looking at me with something like awe and fear.
“I am Sekten, and I fear no one.” I seethed as I kicked his throat, watching as my heel broke through his trachea, covering me in blood
When I got up, there were five dead bodies, and Gideon was just finishing the last one. The door was open, so someone had gone out.
Gideon was smiling as he handled twin blades and crisscrossed them in the man’s abdomen.
The men were dead, I was covered in blood, and the taste of Gideon’s deception was coated on my skin and the taste on my tongue.
He turned to me with a smirk on his face and a maniacal look in his eyes.
I gripped the blade in my hand.
“Who are you?” Gideon barked as he got closer to me.
The smell of death was heavy in the air. As always, it fascinated me—it made me feel elated, like no one could touch me.
“You betrayed me,” I spat.
“You just killed two men, Petal, and I see no remorse on your pretty face.” He kept taking steps toward me, forcing me to take one back. “I’d say you fucking enjoyed it too.”
He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right either. I didn’t enjoy killing for sport. I loved the way I felt when I served my justice. It wasn’t just in men but women too—those who committed unspeakable crimes against humanity. I felt powerful, taking the life of those who felt invincible. It was a high I’d learned to crave since I was a little girl.
“Yorovich’s whore wouldn’t know how to defend herself,” he said as he prowled toward me. “Yorovich’s whore wouldn’t know how to kill one man, never mind two.” He stood before me.
My breathing was heavy, and he was panting. His arm curled around my waist, bringing me to him. “You are not Yorovich’s pawn. You were his fucking queen, someone he couldn’t tame, so he chained you to cut off your wings.”
He was off base, but I humored him. I raised on one of my tiptoes since one of my heels had broken. “And what am I now?”
Gideon smiled. He looked down at me, and he licked his lips. “Now, you’re mine.”
My eyebrows rose in confusion before he kissed me. Lips brushing and teeth clanking. I was confused and still running on the high from killing.
“I’m going to enjoy killing you next,” I told him. With the blade still in my hand and blood on my neck, I raised my arm, ready to strike, when he grabbed my wrist midair. He took it from me and threw me against the bed.
He was there in an instant, his body hovering over mine, the scalpel in his hand as he brought it to my dress and cut it from the chest down to between my legs. Then he inserted two fingers almost violently.
My core clenched not because it felt intrusive but because I wanted more. I needed more, and that was a first.
“Your pussy is fucking soaked.” He groaned against my lips. He then pulled back and licked his lips. “Yeah, I’m going to keep you.”
I thrashed, trying to push him off me, but all it did was make his fingers go in deeper. I whimpered, and I hated myself for it.
“Are you a spy?” he mocked as he brought the fingers out and trailed the moisture between my breasts and down to my navel. “Does massacre turn you on as much as it does me?”
Fuck me, she looked beautiful, her porcelain skin covered in blood. The way she killed with no
remorse was inspiring.
Now more than ever, I needed to know who she was. Why was she here, and what was her endgame. But all of that could wait after I had a taste of her. She looked up at me with so much hate, but her pussy kept getting wetter.
Lies could spill from her mouth as long as the truth was coated on my tongue.
“Do you hate it? The way I make you feel?”
Her chest rose and fell. Her eyes shone with lust, hate, and a bit of fear.
“You’d said when we slept together, I would be the one doing the fucking.”
She did have a point, and I was a man of my word. We also didn’t have much time before someone came back this way, but I wanted to make a statement, and for all I cared, the world could fuck off for five minutes.
Slowly, I put my body weight on her. My hands came to her wrists, holding them down beside her head.
“You’re right, Petal. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t keep to my word?” She let out a relieved breath. “Good thing we aren’t sleeping, and I’m not fucking you.”
By that, I meant my dick wouldn’t go in her.
I brought my hand down and pulled out one of my knives, and I put the handle in her core, gripping the blade with my palm. Her head thrashed back at the contact. I pulled it out only to shove it back in again.
All that could be heard were the sounds of my knife against her wet pussy, her soft moans, and my panting.
I brought the knife out when my blood started to drip. Instead, I used the wet handle to rub it against her pretty pink clit. I wanted to fall to my knees and taste her. Make her beg, scream, and worship me.
“Yebat,” she moaned, her hips grinding against the handle.
My cock was so fucking hard. I wanted to fuck her.
“Stop,” she sighed, her hips still moving when I stopped my ministrations. “Something’s happening.”
Her throaty tone was almost my undoing. Fuck me. Had she never had an orgasm?
I moved the handle again, this time adding pressure against her pebbled clit. She mewled again, telling me to stop once more, but I didn’t. I don’t know why I was holding back. I wasn’t a good man far from it.
Fuck it.
I was practically a saint for holding back as long as I did. For all the shit I had done for her. I pulled the blade out, stabbing it to the mattress. I pulled her by the hips and turned her around. I smacked her arse hard before I wedged her knees apart.
I dropped to my knees, marveling at how pretty her pussy was. Soft pink, small, and fucking soaked before I sucked her clit into my mouth. I fucking ate her like I was on death row and she was my last meal. When I felt her start pulsating against my tongue, I grabbed the other blade and shoved it inside of her just as she fell apart.
She could lie to me, and herself, but her body told the truth.
Slowly I pulled back the knife, and my dick begged me to let him play when she moaned softly. When I turned her around, her eyes were still closed, and her chest was rising and falling. Since it was proven I was a dick with no morals, I took the opportunity to bring a pebbled nipple to my lips.
Her eyes sprang open then. I’d seen all her hate and some amusement, but my God, when she looked at me with her eyes all soft and unguarded, I wanted to chain her to me forever.
I hovered above her. My hand came to her cheek, and with the pad of my finger, I removed the bead of sweat above her lips.
“Was that your first orgasm. Petal?” My tone came out hoarse.
When you grow up without parents, you aren’t given many gifts. You learn to cherish them, and this was one gift I had no intention of ever forgetting.
“I don’t think that matters.”
My, how wrong she was. It didn’t matter? It was everything to me. It could be the reason she was allowed to live.
“Your release is on my lips—your sweet taste on my tongue. Evidence that all you’ve said was a lie. It might not matter to you, Petal, but this is everything to me.” My lips hovered over hers. “Now, kiss your truth off my lips.”
When I called her a liar, which she was, her glare came back. I didn’t let that kill my vibe; I bent and kissed her.
“Do you like how you taste, Petal?” I smiled against her lips.
“We should get going before someone comes in and kills us.”
She wasn’t wrong, but I was still horny—but weirdly enough, I felt sated. I couldn’t recall the last time I felt at peace. I mean, we were in a room full of dead bodies. If that didn’t say I was fucked-up, I don’t know what did.
And I wasn’t the only one who was fucked-up. She let me fuck her with my tongue and knife. Murder got her horny too. Yeah, I was not letting her go.
I took the knife I had stabbed to the bed with my bloody hand, and I brought it up to her neck. She looked alarmed.
Without warning, I took her palm and made a slanted cut. It wasn’t deep, but it bled. I brought our palms together. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she made a slight movement as if she was going to stop me but then forced herself to lie still.
“I don’t know who you are, Petal, but I don’t think I give a fuck, because now you’re mine.”
I brought her palm to my lips, licking the wound clean. It was a vow made with blood, the essence of life. It was sick, but that’s how I felt at the moment. For someone who had never felt anything for anyone, I sure as fuck now felt something for her, and I felt like I was breathing for the first time in years, and like hell if I let it go.
“Close my wound.” I put my hand on her lips. “As soon as you do this, the faster we can leave.”
She seemed to think it over.
“Anytime now, love.”
She glared, but her pink tongue lapped me up. A low growl escaped my lips.
“Let’s go before I blow caution to the wind and fuck you.”
I got up, assessing the room now that my lust was under control. One body was missing—the other guard. I would have been worried, but I saw him kill one of the men who tried to escape. Security wasn’t here, so my guess was that he was with the CIA because if he been a fed, it would never have gone as far as it did, and this place would have been raided already. While I checked the guard to take his gun, I saw Daphne standing over the body of the man she had killed.
She took his tuxedo shirt and was about to drape it over her naked body, and it somehow felt wrong.
“Stop,” I growled. She looked up at me, alarmed, but I ignored her. Instead, I took off my jacket and handed it to her. “Wear mine.”
She gave me a tense nod and did as I asked but not before grabbing something from the pocket.
“How much do you want to bet this opens to a special exit?” she said as she handed me the card and put on my jacket.
Daphne most likely had a point because the men in this room were some of the country’s most powerful, and they couldn’t afford a scandal like this. They would have gotten the privilege of anonymity for selling their souls and city to the person in charge.
The card was black with gold letters on the bottom that said ertsenis—sinestre spelled backward.
“Do you know who that man was?” I asked as she fixed my tuxedo on her body.
“Don’t you?”
“Petal,” I warned, when she ignored me and picked up the leash off the floor since I had used it as a weapon. She tied it around her waist, making my jacket look more appealing.
“He’s the senator.” She gave me a look.
Fucking shit.
A dead senator could bring complications I was not prepared to deal with. My government would not interfere with me if I got caught.
“Let’s go,” Daphne said as she took off her other shoe.
I got ready to open the door but noticed how she turned back to look around the room. Her eyes roamed over the dead bodies and the bed.
“Why does evil like this exist?”
It was a rhetorical question. She didn’t want my answer. We both knew that evil like this existed because men were
allowed to have free will. It was part of the balance of the world.
Putting her body behind mine, I opened the door. I had the gun ready. So far, so good. No extra guards.
“Look over there,” Daphne whispered, pointing to a far wall. “The cameras leave that space blind.”
It was so sexy hearing her talk escape routes with me.
Shaking my head, I held her wounded hand and made my way along the wall, hoping like hell she was right and it was a secret entrance.
The only person on this earth I’d ever trusted had been my grandmother, but at this moment, I trusted him. Monsters recognized monsters, and mine had recognized an equal in him. I ignored all the confusing feelings that overtook me. I wasn’t normal—I had sex, I fucked for secrets or favors. I’d never fucked for pleasure.
I wasn’t sure I knew how. It was a problem for another day because right now, all I wanted to do was not get caught.
While Gideon searched the the dead guard for weapons, I went back to Geoffrey and looked at his open eyes. I quickly knelt and carved an S into his cheek. It was a message to Damian, and I hoped like hell it would work as a token of forgiveness for when I returned back home.
Gideon took my hand. A straightforward gesture, but it felt like I had just handed him what was left of my soul. We made our way into the dark, and it paid off because there was a door, and between the both of us, we found the sensor for the key.
My hand stayed in Gideon’s grasp as he led us to safety. With each step, my heart beat louder than before. With each step, I feared I would never want to let go.
With a city of almost three million, no one was paying attention to us. I wore Gideon’s tuxedo as a dress to hide the blood I carried on my skin. No one paid attention to my legs and how I had no shoes.
We turned the corner on Jackson, Gideon walking ahead of me, his body slightly shielding mine. He held on to me like a vise; it was almost like he was afraid I would disappear.
“As soon as I had the location, I cashed in a favor,” he told me when we walked into an underground parking entrance. He looked up; the parking spiraled for at least five floors.
“Come here. I think you’ve hurt enough for one night,” Gideon said as he scooped me up. He carried me bridal-style toward the elevators.