Page 133 of The Curse Trilogy

I pull the small, fragile ring from my pocket, and I stare at the white gold band holding the black diamond hiding a secret etching of a sparrow within the gem. The engraving declares the love she thinks I don’t have. The last ring I gave her was a temporary, generic ring that I never replaced. This one meant something, and I wanted it to stay on her hand for the rest of our lives.

“That’s good, but it’s not enough. She loves me more than she loves Brazen, and she’ll have to hate me to stay away. I’ll take care of that when the time comes. Until then, just make sure Brazen’s request for transfer gets granted.”

“I’ll do it,” he grumbles. I know he hates leaving Araya in the dark. “I’ll talk to you when I can.”

I hang up the phone, and then I feel my anger surging violently as the thought of losing Araya again surges to the front. I launch the phone across the room, and it’s obliterated against the unforgiving stone wall. I crack my neck from side to side before joining the very relaxed man in the other steel room.

I grip the edge of the table while trying to compose myself, and the man laughs a little at my rattled appearance.

“You look a bit hung over or still drunk. I can’t discern which,” he snickers out.

“Let’s not talk about me. Let’s discuss you.”

I stare at his neck to see the tail of the scorpion peeking out of his shirt, and I fight the power inside me that begs to blow him to pieces.

“I don’t think so, pretty boy. I’ve got nothing to say,” he chuckles, and then he leans back with a smug, fearless smirk.

Fucking dumbass. He has no idea who the fuck I am.

The steel table I’m gripping suddenly flies across the room when I jerk it free from its bolted state. It crashes violently against the far wall before falling in a crumbling motion as it bows in half.

“Oh, you’ll talk,” I mutter in my chilling tone. “You’ll be glad to talk because I won’t let you get near her ever again.”

He starts laughing louder, and I smirk at his indifference to me. I casually lean against the side of the wall while letting him think he’s in control.

“You think I’m scared of you because you threw a little table against a wall? You have no idea who you’re messing with, and the United is just going to slap some cuffs on me and throw me in Stringham.”

I can’t help but smile bigger now, and the burning in my hands finally finds an outlet as it releases my gift. His right hand bursts free from his socket, and the red flows ferociously as he screams out his excruciating pain. I casually stroll over to the corner, and I pull out a small dosed pack of blood to toss to him.

“You psychotic hybrid son of a bitch,” he exclaims, and his chained hands provide him just enough leeway to allow him to guzzle the half pack of blood fervently.

The wound heals just enough to keep him from bleeding profusely while leaving the pain intact.

“I need more,” he yelps, and he grips the closing end of the nub where his hand once was.

“We heal so easily, don’t we? It’s a shame we can’t grow back limbs or other appendages though. I can promise I’ll keep blowing shit off your body until you tell me every-fucking-thing there is to know. Then I’ll give you just enough blood to keep you alive - just like they did her before torturing her daily.”

“You can’t do this,” he strains out through the pain. “You’re a United officer.”

I smirk as I pull my badge off, and then I slide it into my pocket before hovering over him.

“This isn’t United business. This is personal. Which piece of your body would you like to lose next?” I snort out.

He looks away to stare at his missing hand, and I shrug before exploding his right foot right in front of his eyes. He screams again as more blood surges free, and just as before, I hand him another partial pack of blood. He savagely tears into it with his teeth to suck every drop out, and I smirk before sitting down.

“You don’t know who I am, so I’ll give you another chance to speak before I start tearing you to pieces without offering a way out. You see, I’m the one that drove them into hiding the first time around when I slaughtered everyone with that fucking tattoo,” I growl, and I rip his shirt off to reveal the rest of the scorpion that is ripping apart the sparrow. “She had to stare at that for days and days. She has nightmares about that fucking twisted symbol. But she doesn’t know how fucking pathetic you all really are. You die so violently when my gift goes awry, and right now it’s stirring very ferociously.”

His tears start pouring out when his foot barely heals, and he feels the pain gripping him from top to bottom now. He sobs louder when I start to blow off his other hand, and he waves it at me in surrender.

“Stop. Please stop. I’ll tell you what I know, but it’s not much. I’m just a low level. I took on small jobs because they paid me in blood that was so rich. It tastes like it’s straight from the vein.”

Fucking dumb full bloods.

“Metropolis has the same blood for any full blood that pledges allegiance. You’re a fool if you think I’ll believe this shit.”

“No,” he pleads when I stand to inflict more pain. “I’ve been in Metropolis, and yes… the blood is close to the vein, but this blood tastes like it is from the vein. The only thing missing is the thin layer of human skin protecting it. I have some in my bag. You’re welcome to taste it for yourself,” he stammers out promptly.

I suspiciously approach his bag, and I kick it open instead of leaning down just in case it’s a trap. The small packs fall to the floor, and I rip one open to smell its contents. It’s strong, ripe, and damn it smells just like undiluted blood.