Page 102
Story: In His Keeping
“I get it,” Beau muttered. “Smart-ass.”
Zack snickered but cautiously rose, humor disappearing from his features when he stared inside the now-open doorway.
“Beau,” Zack murmured. “You need to get in there. Now.”
THIRTY-SIX
EVEN Goon A’s smirk was now gone. Where before he’d been smugly assured that Ari didn’t have the guts to actually kill someone, uncertainty now marked his features and fear was stark in her eyes.
Good.
Because she meant goddamn business. Gone was any squeamishness whatsoever over causing the deaths of the assholes who’d killed her parents and dragged their bodies off like discarded trash.
Fury sizzled and boiled, hissing through her veins until a warm throb reverberated through her entire body.
“What did you do with them?” she demanded, her tone so frigid that she could discern an actual temperature change in the room.
A puzzled look furrowed his brow and then pain rapidly took its place when she applied pressure to his throat, momentarily cutting off his airway. He was solidly plastered to the ceiling, incapable of moving. He was completely paralyzed and capable of doing her no harm whatsoever.
“Tell me what you did with them or I swear to God, you’ll die an agonizing, long death and you’ll beg me to kill you and end it all,” she said in a dangerously soft voice.
She let off the pressure on his throat, but twisted his testicles painfully until his face was a mask of pain.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he ground out, his jaw clenched and bulging as he breathed through the agony she was inflicting on him. “You saw what I saw. Whatever the hell kind of voodoo you performed rendered bullets ineffective.”
The mental strain she was under was fast sapping her strength and taking its toll. Blood seeped in a continuous stream from her nose and she could feel the warm slide of liquid down the sides of her neck.
She wiped her nose with the back of her arm, smearing some of the blood over her lips. It was a metallic, sickening taste in her mouth. The floor beneath her feet reacted to her psychic energy, vibrating and buckling, tiny cracks forming and then growing larger.
An ominous creaking sound filled the room as if the building were expressing its weariness and weakness. Lightbulbs popped, shattering and sending shards of glass in all directions. A few hit her, inflicting cuts, but she ignored everything, never wavering in her focus on the man above her.
The entire area was responding to the restless, wild energy flowing through her and around her. Her skin tingled as if the air was electrically charged and a continuous current flowed in a cycle.
She felt . . . otherworldly. Like someone in a fantasy movie. Magic or witchcraft. Whichever of the two fit. In this moment, she felt a rush of power so strong that she nearly fell to her knees. It filled her, consumed her, nearly overwhelming in its intensity.
Never had she felt so strong, capable of any feat no matter how impossible. Her spine stiffened and she straightened, resolve settling over her and instilling the will to do what she must.
Pain speared through her head, her body, making her feel as if her bones were shattering. Blood poured from her orifices and she could only imagine how horrifying she must look. She hoped to hell she scared the holy shit out of the little bastard pinned by the awesome force of her powers.
Some of what she was feeling had to be readily visible, because the goon’s face went white as a sheet and he stared at her, realization—and doom—flashing in his eyes.
“Yeah, you little fucker,” she whispered in an eerie voice. “Resign yourself to your fate and the embarrassment over being beat by a ‘little bitch,’ as you so succinctly put it. Well, this bitch is going to send you straight to hell.”
“Ari!”
She flinched at the loud outburst and took an instinctive step back before she realized who it was calling her name. She turned, relief crushing down on her, when she saw Beau inside the doorway, his eyes bright with terror. Zack rushed in to stand beside him and immediately put the man on the ceiling in his gun sights.
“He’s mine,” Ari said, her voice like a whip cracking through the room.
“Ari, honey,” Beau said in a soothing tone. “We need to get you out of here before the entire place goes up in flames or comes down on our heads.”
Tears burned her eyelids and she wasn’t sure if it was blood or tears that now streamed from her eyes. Maybe both.
“He killed them,” she said hoarsely. “He killed my parents! He ordered their executions while I stood here. And oh God, I had a barrier around them, but I let my focus waver and the shield slipped. I saw their blood!”
Beau’s eyes widened. He and Zack exchanged quick glances and Beau cursed softly under his breath.
“Ari, they aren’t dead.”
“I saw!” she shouted. “Don’t try to appease me. Don’t lie to me to get me to come with you. I won’t go until every last one of these assholes is dead.”
“Ari, they are not dead,” Zack said, his voice firm, not as soothing as Beau’s. Utter seriousness was etched in his features as he stared at her. “We got them out of the cell. The blood you saw was from the two guards your father killed. Beau shot the third one when he went after your mother. They’re fine. I swear to you. They’re safe and waiting for you. They’re worried sick about you. Afraid to their bones that something has happened to you. So let it go so we can take you to your parents. So you can see for yourself we aren’t lying to you.”
Zack snickered but cautiously rose, humor disappearing from his features when he stared inside the now-open doorway.
“Beau,” Zack murmured. “You need to get in there. Now.”
THIRTY-SIX
EVEN Goon A’s smirk was now gone. Where before he’d been smugly assured that Ari didn’t have the guts to actually kill someone, uncertainty now marked his features and fear was stark in her eyes.
Good.
Because she meant goddamn business. Gone was any squeamishness whatsoever over causing the deaths of the assholes who’d killed her parents and dragged their bodies off like discarded trash.
Fury sizzled and boiled, hissing through her veins until a warm throb reverberated through her entire body.
“What did you do with them?” she demanded, her tone so frigid that she could discern an actual temperature change in the room.
A puzzled look furrowed his brow and then pain rapidly took its place when she applied pressure to his throat, momentarily cutting off his airway. He was solidly plastered to the ceiling, incapable of moving. He was completely paralyzed and capable of doing her no harm whatsoever.
“Tell me what you did with them or I swear to God, you’ll die an agonizing, long death and you’ll beg me to kill you and end it all,” she said in a dangerously soft voice.
She let off the pressure on his throat, but twisted his testicles painfully until his face was a mask of pain.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he ground out, his jaw clenched and bulging as he breathed through the agony she was inflicting on him. “You saw what I saw. Whatever the hell kind of voodoo you performed rendered bullets ineffective.”
The mental strain she was under was fast sapping her strength and taking its toll. Blood seeped in a continuous stream from her nose and she could feel the warm slide of liquid down the sides of her neck.
She wiped her nose with the back of her arm, smearing some of the blood over her lips. It was a metallic, sickening taste in her mouth. The floor beneath her feet reacted to her psychic energy, vibrating and buckling, tiny cracks forming and then growing larger.
An ominous creaking sound filled the room as if the building were expressing its weariness and weakness. Lightbulbs popped, shattering and sending shards of glass in all directions. A few hit her, inflicting cuts, but she ignored everything, never wavering in her focus on the man above her.
The entire area was responding to the restless, wild energy flowing through her and around her. Her skin tingled as if the air was electrically charged and a continuous current flowed in a cycle.
She felt . . . otherworldly. Like someone in a fantasy movie. Magic or witchcraft. Whichever of the two fit. In this moment, she felt a rush of power so strong that she nearly fell to her knees. It filled her, consumed her, nearly overwhelming in its intensity.
Never had she felt so strong, capable of any feat no matter how impossible. Her spine stiffened and she straightened, resolve settling over her and instilling the will to do what she must.
Pain speared through her head, her body, making her feel as if her bones were shattering. Blood poured from her orifices and she could only imagine how horrifying she must look. She hoped to hell she scared the holy shit out of the little bastard pinned by the awesome force of her powers.
Some of what she was feeling had to be readily visible, because the goon’s face went white as a sheet and he stared at her, realization—and doom—flashing in his eyes.
“Yeah, you little fucker,” she whispered in an eerie voice. “Resign yourself to your fate and the embarrassment over being beat by a ‘little bitch,’ as you so succinctly put it. Well, this bitch is going to send you straight to hell.”
“Ari!”
She flinched at the loud outburst and took an instinctive step back before she realized who it was calling her name. She turned, relief crushing down on her, when she saw Beau inside the doorway, his eyes bright with terror. Zack rushed in to stand beside him and immediately put the man on the ceiling in his gun sights.
“He’s mine,” Ari said, her voice like a whip cracking through the room.
“Ari, honey,” Beau said in a soothing tone. “We need to get you out of here before the entire place goes up in flames or comes down on our heads.”
Tears burned her eyelids and she wasn’t sure if it was blood or tears that now streamed from her eyes. Maybe both.
“He killed them,” she said hoarsely. “He killed my parents! He ordered their executions while I stood here. And oh God, I had a barrier around them, but I let my focus waver and the shield slipped. I saw their blood!”
Beau’s eyes widened. He and Zack exchanged quick glances and Beau cursed softly under his breath.
“Ari, they aren’t dead.”
“I saw!” she shouted. “Don’t try to appease me. Don’t lie to me to get me to come with you. I won’t go until every last one of these assholes is dead.”
“Ari, they are not dead,” Zack said, his voice firm, not as soothing as Beau’s. Utter seriousness was etched in his features as he stared at her. “We got them out of the cell. The blood you saw was from the two guards your father killed. Beau shot the third one when he went after your mother. They’re fine. I swear to you. They’re safe and waiting for you. They’re worried sick about you. Afraid to their bones that something has happened to you. So let it go so we can take you to your parents. So you can see for yourself we aren’t lying to you.”
Table of Contents
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