I’d done wrong in my life, sure. I’d killed innocents just recently, in fact, but I never did what Aiden did. Never even thought about it. To take away someone’s voice was beyond despicable, and he was about to learn the error of his ways.
“Knock him out,” I ordered Maddox, and before my brother had the chance to argue, Maddox flipped the weapon in his hand around and smacked the back of Aiden’s head with the butt of it. My brother’s tall form crumpled to the floor in a heap as Sylvester moved to stand beside me, lowering his gun when he was sure he was unconscious.
“What are we doing with him?” Sylvester asked me.
“Get him into the bedroom,” I said. “Find something to tie him down with.”
As Sylvester and Maddox got to work, I went to the bathroom, fixing my hair. The last thing my brother would see before he died was me, and I wanted him to realize just how badly he’d fucked up all those years growing up. I wanted him to be powerless beneath me for once, his hands held back and his ankles tied down. I wanted to hear him scream my name—no more hushed whispers in the dark, no more secrets and no more lies.
Once I approved of my reflection, once I looked like a beautiful, striking angel of death, my gaze fell to my shirt, and I wondered if I should take off my clothes or put on something else, but that would either mean my brother would get an eyeful of my body before dying or he’d get the satisfaction of seeing me in his own clothes. Neither of which sounded appealing to me, so I’d just do it in these clothes.
Hell, I’d walk out of this hotel covered in blood, and I dared anyone to stop me.
I closed my eyes for a bit, focusing on my breathing, trying to calm myself. I’d waited for this day, I’d dreamed of it, but I never imagined it would actually happen. Me, about to kill my brother. Everything in my life really had come full circle; everything that happened after this was just gravy.
I was as ready to kill that motherfucker as I’d ever be, so I pushed out of the bathroom, clutching my mask like a lifeline, finding Sylvester and Maddox in the bedroom. The suite had more than one, but the guys had found the nicest, biggest one and laid my brother on top of the king-sized bed. His arms were held up, tied together and then to the bedframe above his head, while his pant legs had been yanked up and his ankles spread and tied down as well. Looked like they used a hodgepodge of long-sleeved shirts to do it, along with one of the bedsheets.
And, if he somehow got loose, it wasn’t like I’d be alone. Sylvester and Maddox would be right there, watching.
“How are you going to do it?” Sylvester asked, eyeing me up as I studied my brother’s still form. His gun was visible in the waistband of his pants, but once Aiden was awake, I knew it would come out again. Maddox’s was much the same, I noticed, as he stood on the other side of the bedroom, arms folded across his chest, the tattoos on his arms rippling with anger.
Both of these men would gladly tear into my brother, eat his heart and rip his head off, but he was my devil to purify, my cross to bear. He would become another victim of the Night Slayer, the one who deserved her bloody vengeance the most.
I said nothing as I set my mask on top of a dresser and slipped off my boots. With my own feet bare, I sauntered out of the room, down the hall, emerging in the wide-open space that was the living area and kitchen. Most hotel rooms didn’t come with a full-sized kitchen, complete with a refrigerator and stove, but most hotel rooms also didn’t come with floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the entire city, either. This was fancy-pants central, and if I knew my brother, he had it booked indefinitely, not knowing when I’d come to him.
What a fool. What a pathetic, disgusting fool he was. I hated him, I did. I hated him more than I hated myself, and that was saying something.
I retrieved my favorite instrument of chaos from the kitchen and tiptoed back. The Night Slayer’s choice of weapon was mostly because it was something everyone had in their house or apartment. You couldn’t get very far without your own set of knives, even if you just had three of them.
Luckily, one was all I needed.
I mean, who knew? Maybe after Aiden was dead, I’d magically revert back to the girl I used to be, to the girl I should’ve been. Maybe all of my craziness and uncontrollable urges would vanish just like that.
Or maybe not. Because, you know, this wasn’t a fairytale, and if it was, I think we all got lost somewhere. I didn’t remember fairytales being this bloody—and if they were, I don’t think I was watching the right fairytales when I was younger. Who needed Disney when blood told such better stories?
I came upon Sylvester and Maddox, who now stood near each other. They saw the knife in my hand, and I gave them a smile, sauntering over to them, giving them each a soft kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for this,” I said, pulling away from them. “This means… a lot.” It really did; in fact, it meant so much more than I could ever explain.
Words didn’t often fail me. Talking was one thing I was very good at, even if no one listened. The silent Lola who kept her mouth shut had died years ago, so saying what these two had done for me made me at a loss for words meant a lot.
“You’re welcome,” Sylvester said, meaning it, because of course he did.
Maddox, on the other hand, spoke gruffly, “Yeah, yeah. Now, go wake his ass up and make him bleed.”
I grinned. That I could definitely do.
I went to the dresser, where my mask sat, its shiny steel shimmering in the dim light of the suite. Meeting the man who’d made this for me, I knew it was not a sweet gift meant to flutter my heart. It was a gift of violence and fear, and I’d missed wearing it.
I slipped it on, the metal fitting the lower half of my face like it was molded specifically for me and me alone. My breath was hot on my face, and I grabbed the knife, fingers flexing around the handle as I glanced at my two men. Whatever they thought of me, I would make them proud tonight. Their angel would drink the blood of her most hated enemy on this night.
Crawling onto the bed, the mattress hardly moved with my added weight. Aiden was still passed out, his eyelids shut, his chest rising and falling with smooth, even breaths. I stopped when I sat beside him, staring at him. Much like me, he wore the face of an angel: handsome and pretty, the kind of face anyone would love to lose themselves in. Truth was, pretty faces tended to hide the ugliest of souls, and my brother’s soul was the blackest, most hideous thing there ever was.
A smile crept along my face beneath the mask, and I heaved myself over him, straddling his midsection. I set the knife down, getting to work on the buttons on his shirt as his eyes fought to open. One by one, I undid the buttons, drawing the fabric open as much as I could, given his position with his arms tied over his head.
His chest was lean and hairless, and I drew my hands down it when I saw his eyelids finally lift and those cerulean orbs focus on me. Even though he couldn’t see me smiling behind the mask, I couldn’t wipe it off my face.
“Hello, brother,” I purred out, touching him all over his chest, his stomach, his abdomen. Not a way a sister should touch her brother, but we were beyond that, now. “Tell me, do you like my mask?” My voice was muffled behind it, sounding more ominous, more threatening.
Aiden couldn’t take his eyes off me, even as he struggled. It didn’t take him long to realize he was tied to the bed, and that Maddox and Sylvester stood nearby, guns drawn and ready should something go wrong. “What… what is this?”
Because he did not answer, I grabbed his face with my hand, nails digging into his cheeks as I repeated, “Do you like my mask?” My blonde hair draped down over his head, my other hand still resting on his chest. I leaned over him, my heart pounding.
This was it. This was finally it. After all this time, after all these years, my dear brother was about to meet his maker. Me.
To say I was excited would be the year’s biggest understatement. I was absolutely thrilled to have him helpless beneath me, the tables turned. The anticipation filled my veins and made my blood run faster, my hea
rt pump quicker. Tonight, I would remedy the mistake I’d make all those years ago when I’d left, thereby leaving him alive. Tonight, I would fix my worst mistake and finally rid the world of the devil that haunted my nightmares.
I was the true nightmare now. I was sick and twisted, taking pleasure in other’s pain, craving the screams and the dilation of their pupils. Call me an angel of death, because that’s what I was, and that’s what I would be until the day death took me in its cold, sweet embrace.
My brother realized I would not let go of his face until he gave me an answer, my nails digging into his flesh so hard I broke through the skin, so he muttered, “Yes, I like your mask.” Such a bitter answer, so unlike his usual attitude, but I supposed that was because he knew he wasn’t going to get out of this one alive.
Poor fool. He thought he’d come here, sweep me off my feet, and take me back home, that we’d continue on with our lives as if I’d never murdered our parents. Instead, he would meet his true death here, by my hand, and I hoped the image of me in this mask haunted him in hell.
When he finally answered me, I released my hold on his face, lifting my head away from his, no longer shielding him from the room with my halo of yellow hair. My hand dropped to his collarbone, and I traced the lines of his muscles, grinning behind the mask. I couldn’t wipe that smile off my face if I tried to.
And, hint, I wasn’t trying to, nor would I.
“Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of this, Aiden?” My voice came out sultry, so unlike the bitter tone he’d taken up. Me? I couldn’t be happier, and I let it show, my glee pure and unrestrained.
His blue eyes were on me, though they did throw a quick glance in Maddox and Sylvester’s direction. “No,” he muttered, frowning as he once again tried to free his arms. He couldn’t. My guys were a master of knots, apparently.
Hmm. Maybe I’d let them tie me up next to my brother’s corpse when it was all said and done and fuck my brains out. That sure sounded like fun, and my thighs clenched as I touched my brother’s smooth chest.
He must wax or something, because no man’s torso was this hair-free naturally. It was like touching a baby’s ass—not that I ever touched a baby’s ass before. It’s just something people said, a weird ass saying, but here it totally fit.
“So long,” I told him. “I’ve dreamed of this moment for so long, brother. Years. Even before killing Mom and Dad, I dreamed of gutting you. Stringing you up by your intestines and hanging you with them. I dreamed of your screams, of cutting off those hands and sewing that mouth shut.”
A shiver ran down my spine with the imagery, and I wished we had more time. I wished I could make a whole day of this, a week, a month, make his misery last—but I couldn’t, so I had to make do.
“Luckily for you,” I went on, taking my hands off him and reaching for the knife, “we don’t have time for all of that, so it’s going to be a lot quicker for you than I’d like.” I watched as his blue gaze fell to the shiny steel of the kitchen knife, its serrated edge glinting.
“Please, Lola, don’t do this,” Aiden started to beg, which was kind of funny. I never imagined him begging in any of the scenarios, but I guess he would, huh? The sap didn’t want to die. Unlike me, he didn’t have a death wish. Too bad. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll—I’ll leave. I’ll never contact you again. You can stay here with them if that’s what you want—” He stopped the moment I brought the knife’s tip to the underside of his chin, and he swallowed.
“You’re an idiot,” I whispered, “to think that I would ever try to contact you. I never wanted you to come here.” With the knife, I pointed toward Sylvester and Maddox. “They did. They found you, because I told them what you did to me for all those years.”
He blinked, and his expression changed just slightly; he was angry with me for sharing our little secret.
“What?” I cooed, moving the knife to his chest and dancing the steel along his pectorals, circling his nipples. They were two hardened points, but probably not because he was turned on. Wonder what would happen if I cut them off… “It’s strange, I know. Someone actually believed me. I guess what they say is true: there’s a first time for everything.”
All my life, all those doctors and nurses who shrugged me off, who either didn’t care or didn’t believe me or got a paycheck in the form of a bribe from my parents. All those people I’d tried to speak up to, only to never have any of them save me. Maybe, if they would’ve done something, I wouldn’t be as fucked up as I was now. Maybe I wouldn’t be the Night Slayer.
But that was neither here nor there, because it didn’t matter what happened years ago. Right here and now was all that mattered to me, putting an end to my past, cutting the last loose string in the form of my brother.
Oh, it was going to be biblical.
“They believed me,” I carried on, taking great pleasure in the way his body tensed under mine as I drew the knife down to his stomach. “They believed me, and now you’re here. I couldn’t have asked for more, really. I never thought I’d be able to face you down after what you did to me. For so long I thought I was only pretending to be strong, but now?” I laughed. “Now that you’re here with me, brother, I know the truth.” Leaning down to his face once more, I whispered out, “Do you know what the truth is?”
Aiden looked extremely pale. “What?” The word was barely audible, and I giggled some more. My brother being here brought the glee into the situation, really.
My free hand went to his face, and I drew it down along his cheek, smearing the small bits of blood that had appeared where I’d dug my nails in earlier. A gentle caress, a lie about what was to come. “I’m not weak,” I told him. “I’m the fucking strongest gal around, and I’m about to prove it.” Smiling behind the mask, I asked, “Any last words, dear brother? Anything for posterity? Not that the Hardings will have any future generations after us. Once you’re dead, I’m it, and we all know how I can’t pop out babies like a Pez dispenser anymore.”
My brother said nothing, only glared at me, which was a disappointment, frankly. Don’t ask me why, but I’d been expecting more. Oh, well. Guess it was time to get to it.
“Now,” I spoke, placing the knife’s tip at the base of my brother’s throat, just above his collarbone, “I’m going to carve you up, so feel free to scream your lungs out—while you’re still alive, I mean.” Once he was dead he couldn’t exactly fill the air with his screams, but by then I’d already have a load of them bottled up in my memory to save for later.
You know, those nights when I couldn’t sleep; after tonight, I could close my eyes and picture this moment. Years down the road, I would still remember every detail of tonight like it was just yesterday.
Assuming I was still alive, of course. Assuming we took back this city. But that was getting ahead of myself, I think.
I pushed down on the knife, not too hard, not enough to stab him in the throat—I wanted him alive for at least the start of this. No slit throats tonight. I’d meant what I’d said when I said I was going to carve him up. This entire room would become a blood splatter analyst’s wet dream. Every inch of this room would be painted with his blood, and never before would the world have seen something more beautiful.
Because blood was. It was beautiful and obscene at the same time. Spilling it, drawing it out, watching it ooze… I just couldn’t get enough.
Blood pooled beneath the tip of the knife, and Aiden winced, though he didn’t cry out. Kudos to him, but it was just the first prick of his skin, the first wound of many. A teeny, tiny thing compared to what would come next. Our starting point, if you will.
I drew the knife away from him, taking my free hand and dipping my fingers into his blood. With his blood, I drew a line straight down his chest, all the way to his belly button. I had to go back for more blood a few times, but I made it work. Then I drew another line parallel to the first, creating a sort of cross on his chest, just below his pectoral muscles.
Well aware that both Sylves
ter and Maddox were watching me, I knew they wouldn’t want me to hold back, so I wouldn’t. I planned on going full-out crazy here.
And then, once the bloodied cross was made, I realized my stupid fucker of a brother had shut his eyes. Whether it was in acceptance or fear, I didn’t rightly care. That motherfucker was going to keep his eyes open for this. He was going to watch, even if it was through a veil of blood.
I slid off his chest, scooting up to his face. “Now, Aiden, I realize this must be terrifying for you, but you’ve got to understand how great it feels for me,” I told him. “I’m gonna need you to watch what I do to you, okay?” My overly nice voice snapped the moment I reached for the nearest eyelid, pinching it and pulling it as far away from his eye as I could.
Didn’t want to damage the eye, you know, since I wanted him to witness it all.
I brought the knife to his eyelid, and he started squirming, the dumb motherfucker. I didn’t lose grip on that eyelid, but I did say, “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you. I can’t imagine a knife to the eye feels that good, so be thankful I’m leaving your eyes intact.” Then again, at this point, he had nothing to lose by staying still, so would he really listen to me?
Ah, well. It didn’t matter, because right after I said that, I sliced that eyelid off. A bit of blood, but not too much. Aiden cried out, screamed a little bit, and I let out a laugh as I wiggled his eyelid in the air. Such a small thing, it was kind of funny.
Or maybe I was just nuts.
I threw it behind me, and I imagined it landing on the floor near Sylvester and Maddox’s feet, and then I went in and did the other one. Let me just say, hearing my brother whimper and beg me to stop what I was doing—it was nice. It was something I could get used to. The tables had been totally flipped, that’s for sure, because in the beginning, I used to whisper the same things to him in the dark, when he would find his way into my bed at night.
Violent Heart: A Dark Reverse Harem (A Death So Sweet Book 3) Page 15
