Devyn rose. When he moved past me, I followed behind him like a good little slave. We climbed the steps, me on my knees. My gaze lingered on Lucius’s sleeping form until I rammed into a large piece of splintered wood.
EenLi was in deep conversation with another Mec. When he noticed Devyn, he waved the Mec away. “I made quite a profit from you this evening,” he said with a grin.
“That you did,” Devyn responded.
I reached behind my back to slide my knife from the waist of my pants…only to realize my knife was gone. My blood ran like ice in my veins. How Devyn had removed it, I didn’t know. Bastard. He knew I’d been planning to kill EenLi, here and now. Why had he stopped me? Did he mean to betray me? No, I thought. Devyn wanted his nights with me; he wanted me willing. He’d given me his vow.
That meant…what?
“Eden, rest your head on my leg like a good little girl.”
I did so without hesitation, and he sifted his fingers through my hair.
“How did you train her so quickly?” EenLi’s white gaze raked over me, lingering on my breasts, between my legs. “She’s a delectable little morsel, isn’t she? Perhaps I should have kept her for myself. I just didn’t expect her to be so docile so quickly.”
“I have the most…persuasive training techniques.”
The two men shared a hearty laugh.
“Thank you for the warriors.” EenLi said, all business now. “They are proving to be very useful already.”
“Excellent.” He paused. “There’s something I need to speak with you about. In private.”
“Now is not the time, I’m afraid.”
“Make the time.” Devyn’s tone was hard, promising retribution if his request wasn’t met.
EenLi’s skin glowed a light red, meaning he was only mildly perturbed. His white eyes narrowed. “Very well. Shall we adjourn to my office?”
“That won’t be necessary.” One by one, the people inside the warehouse began dropping to the dirt. Snores soon abounded. I jumped up, unable to hold myself back a moment longer.
This ended now. Knife or no knife.
“What’s going on?” EenLi demanded, a look of confusion flittering over his face. His red skin turned to a dark, molten yellow.
“I believe you have unfinished business with my slave,” the Targon answered and stepped back.
“Not a slave,” I said, moving forward. “Assassin. You see, I plan to do to you what I did to your partner, Mris-ste.”
The Mec’s color changed again, once again glowing that deep, dark red. “So it was you. I suspected Michael, not his daughter.” He backed a step away from me, one of his hands slowly slipping inside his pockets.
“Give me the knife,” I demanded of Devyn without ever turning my attention.
“No,” was his reply.
I stomped my foot.
“I’m doing you another favor, Eden. I once had an enemy I despised with the same intensity you have for EenLi. I know that if you kill him too quickly, you will always regret it. Fight him. Beat him. Make him pay.”
In the next instant, EenLi whipped out a gun. Devyn tsked under his tongue and mentally swept the weapon across the room. It hit the floor with a thump. EenLi gasped, and I slowly stalked toward him. With every step I tried to center my energy, but that proved impossible. Too many hot emotions clamored for release.
“Targon,” he said, casting the king a nervous glance. “Help me, and I will—”
“This is between you and the Raka,” Devyn said. He grinned. “Enjoy, both of you. I know I will. Is there any popcorn? I love Earth popcorn.” He continued to mutter about the popcorn as he hopped off the stage and sat in a chair.
I sprang. EenLi leapt to the side, but I managed to kick his shoulder. As he stumbled, he growled low in his throat. We circled each other. His white eyes continually darted toward the door, and I knew he planned to run.
Realizing he could go nowhere without me following, he tried another tactic. “Do you think I knew nothing about you, Eden?” There was an evilness to his tone, a darkness that made me shudder. “I know more than you think.”
I didn’t respond. I just edged closer.
“I took great pleasure in enslaving you,” he gloated. “You, a trained assassin. You, Michael Black’s beloved daughter.
Closer. Closer. Like a tiger moving in for the kill, I circled him.
“I’d hoped the Targon could control you,” he said. “And I liked that Michael would never see you again, that he would always wonder what happened to you.”
I went low and kicked his ankles. Contact. He fell with a whoosh, but sprang up quickly. He pulsed with the barest hint of blue. “Why do you want to kill me so desperately, hmm?”
“For the pleasure of it.”
“You should want to destroy the one who killed your parents. Why do you think Michael took you in? He’d been assigned to kill your father. But your mother got in the way, so he killed her, too.”
Fury boiled inside me, hotter, hotter. I sprinted toward him and jumped, spinning midair, crunching the heel of my boot into his nose. It snapped, and black-hued blood sprayed across the platform. “Liar,” I lashed out.
EenLi stumbled to his feet, blood and spittle trickling down his face, onto his lips. He struggled for air as his skin turned a mottled hue of purple. “I used to work for him. Did he tell you that?”
I knew what EenLi was doing. Offering a truth to make his lie appear believable. “I don’t believe trash like you, EenLi, so save your breath.” I hopped from foot to foot, and I moved toward him. No more playing.
He ran to one of the sleeping guards and grabbed a weapon. His eyes gleamed with victory as he aimed the pyre-gun, but I was already on him. I kicked the gun from his hand, and it flew across the room.
I punted him in the chest. He swung at me as he tumbled down. His fist connected with my jaw, and my head whipped to the side.
He was up and on me before I could blink, pushing me down and trying to choke me. I rocked back and wound my legs around his neck. With one hard jerk, he was sailing backward. I used the momentum to gain my footing and leapt to an upright position. I lunged for him as he, too, jolted to his feet. My head butted into his stomach, causing him to double over as his breath whooshed from his mouth.
Straightening, I beat my fists into his face like I was a machine, over and over, again and again. He fell onto the wood. I fell with him, never pausing. Blood flung left and right with every blow.
Devyn called from below, “Here.” His words reached my haze of destruction. “I’m getting bored. Finish it,” and he tossed me a knife.
I caught the hilt midair. EenLi gurgled something, perhaps, “No, please,” and tried to crawl away. I grabbed his head and positioned my knife. Then I slit his throat the way I’d wanted to from the beginning.
When his eyes glazed, I dropped his head with a thud. It wasn’t enough, though. Devyn had been right. It wasn’t enough. I wanted EenLi to suffer longer. I wanted him to suffer for eternity.
“Nicely done,” the Targon said.
“Give me your phone,” I commanded, wiping the Mec’s black blood onto my pants.
He did so without another comment. As I strode to Lucius’s slumped, sleeping form, I dialed Michael. When he answered, I told him where I was.
“I know where you are,” he barked. “I tracked you with the isotope. You’ll notice I trusted you enough not to send my men in.”
“Bring a van and medical supplies.”
A pause. A hiss of breath. “Are you hurt? What’s—”
“I’m fine, Lucius isn’t. Hurry.” I hung up on him. I’d never done that before, but I didn’t know what else to say to him right now.