Page 13 of Dark Virtue (Threads of Ruin #1)

Riot scoffs, walking past me. "Not for you."

I pout. "Aw, and here I thought we were becoming friends."

Riot glares at me over his shoulder. "What the fuck gave you that impression?"

"Well, we're going to try to kill each other eventually. Isn't that a good enough reason?" I joke, and the Saviour just rolls his eyes and sits behind his desk without a word.

I quickly jump onto the seat opposite him and kick my feet up onto his desk. He glares at them, but I ignore it and glance over my shoulder. "Where is that General of yours? One peek into his mind, and I know he rarely leaves your side."

"He's getting Reece."

"Your little human pet," I muse, resting my chin on my fist. "The reason why I'm here. In this troublesome situation. I would understand why she's here, considering what her womb has accomplished, but why go through such risk for a human? What is she to you?"

Riot simply looks me dead in the eyes and says, "My sidekick."

"Ahh, she's the Donkey to your Shrek." His gaze narrows, and my smile widens.

"The Gromit to your Wallace. The Patrick to your SpongeBob…

" Riot looks amused, as the corner of his mouth tilts into a shadow of a crooked smile.

My plan to annoy him into an answer seems to be having the opposite effect, and just when I decide to slap that smirk off his face, a familiar voice intervenes.

"We're... family." I turn to the soft voice emerging from behind me and stare blankly at the hazel-eyed girl standing at the doorway with the boy— her son.

"Why? Is the family whose blood runs through your veins not good enough?" A growl emerges from behind me—a reaction. Not a smirk. Not a bored or muted response. It was a warning— interesting.

"Watch your mouth, Nightmare," he says, his words low, dangerous. Riot leans forward on his desk, his eyes swirling violently, a storm barely contained. "I allow you to talk, but I can certainly change that."

The shadows in the room quiver, stretching towards him, as power ripples through the air. Making it hard to breathe. To see anything but those glittering red eyes boring down on me.

I simply watch him, my face carefully blank—only because, yes, I'm petty, and if he wants to act like I'm an annoying fly, I can do the same.

"Uncle Ri!" a small voice yells, interrupting our little game. My gaze shifts to Eden, as he cradles his mother's head while glaring at his 'Uncle Ri'— how cute.

Reece shakes on her knees, sweat coating her skin and limbs shivering violently. She's gasping for breath as if someone is choking the life out of her.

"Reece." Riot's quickly beside her, pulling her up by her arm and holding the human against his chest. "I didn't mean to… I'm sorry."

I narrow my gaze.

"I-It's okay," Reece whispers, pulling away. She smiles at him—even after hurting her, she can still smile at him.

Reece takes a seat on the chair beside me, and Eden stands between us. His back faces his mother, and his pale grey eyes sharpen on me.

I smile, and nothing is warm about it. "Hello again, Little Nightwalker."

The boy scowls, arms crossed over his chest and standing like a bodyguard between me and his mother.

He's entertaining; I'll give him that.

A hand reaches around his torso, and Reece pulls him into her lap while watching me with a careful eye. I sigh and turn my attention back to the Saviour. "So, what do you want, Saviour? It must be important if you've imprisoned me."

Reece and Riot share a look, and though they can't link minds, they seem to be discussing something silently.

"To kill someone."

"Now you're speaking my language," I say. I plant my feet on the floor, excitement bleeding from my tone as I sit up.

"He's a Nightwalker," Reece adds, observing me. "One of your own."

"I know." I smirk, because Nightwalkers will be difficult. They'll want me dead as much I want them dead. It'll be perfect. "Damien, right?"

Reece stiffens and simply nods. "He's my ex."

I raise a curious brow, wondering what someone so innocent and warm would be doing with a Nightwalker. I whistle low, murmuring, "Well, there goes that assumption."

"What assumption?"

My gaze briefly flickers to the kid. "He looks around the age the Nightwalkers were given orders to conceive, be it by force or will; I assumed you were a victim."

If it were possible, Reece's jaw would have hit the floor. Speechless and mortified, she tries to string together a sentence. "That's… W-What are… I-I… You can't say things like that!"

"Huh, and why not?"

She covers the boy's ears and whisper-seethes, "You can't just tell me you assumed I was raped!" Her olive complexion burns red in anger. "It's impolite and rude!"

"Right…" I say, stretching each letter of the word, "because Ricci's first objective when he created me was to sit me down and teach me human fucking decency."

The air around me suddenly feels heavy and dangerous, and my gaze is instantly drawn to the creature responsible. His eyes flash a deep red, and it isn’t just the man I'd angered, but the monster inside him, too.

"Do not say his name." His words are sharp, chilling, and utterly dead.

It was only for a moment the monster seemed in charge, less than a second even. But it was enough. Enough to stir the monster in me; enough for me to know this man might actually possess the ability to kill me.

"Oh." I chuckle, wanting to bait him, to put his hands around my throat and squeeze. "Don't tell me this has become a 'He-who-must-not-be-named' situation?"

"It's not funny," Reece intervenes, "saying a name like that here will get you killed."

I roll my eyes. "It sounds to me like you're giving a dead man more power." I turn to the Saviour, smirking. "It's making me wonder if the dead man truly lost to you… Hero."

"You're Reece's bodyguard until you've killed Damien." It seems this Saviour has no intention of falling for my tricks.

"I don't understand," I say, leaning my elbows on my knees and assessing the Saviour closely. "You're capable." Capable enough to make me think you can kill me. "Why can't you kill him?"

The Saviour narrows his eyes, almost as if he doesn’t want to answer. But as the silence stretches, he blows an annoyed breath and answers, "We're bound by loyalty; I can't kill him."

I tilt my head, eyebrows raised with even more questions. But Reece answers them for me.

"It was me," she murmurs, her voice thick with regret and sadness. "I'm the reason Riot had to make him part of the castle."

I roll my eyes and lean back. "Well, since I'm a, you know, Nightwalker, I'm going to decline— "

Explosions of pain spark to life in my wrist, cutting me off. I’d swear my nerves are disintegrating, my veins about to burst. I can't breathe! Everything fucking burns.

I bite down on my tongue before the pained groan can fully leave my lips.

'Pain is only temporary.'

I don't know where the words came from or what they mean, but there is something almost comforting about them, something that almost feels like warmth. So, I push it away because it isn't comfort I want—not anymore.

I lift my head and glare at Riot, my lips sealed tightly shut. I’m not going to scream or give him the satisfaction of bearing witness to my pain. But looking into his eyes, it isn’t anger I see. It isn't a need for control. It isn’t even hate. His eyes are simply empty, like mine.

Perhaps he sees something in my eyes; maybe he finds what he is looking for, because the pain vanishes, and I am suddenly cold. I grit my teeth and sit back.

I want to race across the room and rip his heart out; the animal inside me demands it. He is a danger to our existence, and while I don’t care, my body isn’t complying.

But I hold back. My fingernails puncture the leather of the armrest. I can’t kill him—not with the mark. If I have any chance of escaping this mess, I'll need to figure out how I can get rid of him.

Riot seems to realise I've accepted my situation, for now.

"Did you hear what I said?" Reece's voice snaps me out of my daze, and I turn to her.

"Does what you said matter?"

"Her name was Leila Thorne."

"And should that name mean something?" Her honey-colored eyes turn fierce at my comment, and I can't help but smile.

"She's the woman you killed," Reece reveals. I chuckle lowly as I run my ringed hand through my hair.

"So... It doesn't matter."

"How can you say that?!" Reece rasps. Her tone is filled with regret when she whispers, "She didn't deserve to die."

I stare blankly at her as something tugs in my head. An urge, but I'm not sure what. Reece glares at me in anger— only anger.

"What do you want me to do, Reece? Tattoo her name on my soul and hope it will grow me a conscience?

" I drawl, leaning my chin on my hand as she clenches her fist. "Remember this: the only reason the Saviour has enslaved me to be your bodyguard is because I'm even more of a monster than the creature who is hunting you. "

Her eyes widen as if a thousand memories suddenly filtered through her mind like a tidal wave of pain, suffering and weakness. Then her eyes find mine, and she shivers. Her walls are stacked so high that I can't see the top.

"Did it grow a conscience?" I ask. She doesn't reply, but we both know the answer. I smile lazily, warning her softly, "Then don't look for one inside me."