Page 81 of Tarnished Embers

“And what would that be, petal?” Lord Blackthorn asks, and I switch my focus to him. He’s trying to act like an aristocrat, all noble and shit, but I know all about his depravity, and it makes my lip curl.

“You seem to be under the impression that it makes a difference if you know who we are,” I tell him, my voice strong and sure. I straighten my spine as I look down at him, and the power that rushes through me knowing that he’s at my mercy is a heady feeling.

He arches a brow. “Doesn’t it?”

“Dead men can’t talk, Lord Blackthorn,” I inform him, the sound of liquid being sloshed around the room making him look around, the whites of his eyes beginning to show. The other men squirm, pleas ringing out as they’re each covered in alcohol that was bought here for this.

I can hear some of the others leaving the kitchen, presumably heading to the rest of the house to spread the alcohol around and make sure it all burns.

“P–p–please, I can get you anything you w–want,” Lord Blackthorn pleads, and Cas hands me an open bottle of vodka, his other palm warm in mine as he keeps hold of my hand. I look into my rapist’s blue eyes as I pour the liquid over his head and body, making him splutter and cough. They all fight their bindings, but it’s no use, they’re only causing themselves more pain as they try and fail to get free.

“I don’t need anything you could give me,” I tell him, my voice ice-cold as I watch the realisation sink in. His shoulders slump, seeing no mercy in my hard stare, his tears mixing with the alcohol as he comes to terms with his imminent death.

Finally, stepping away from him, I pass the empty bottle back to Cas, the others all coming back into the room. Hunter stops in front of me, handing me a glass bottle with a rag stuffed in the top, filled with clear alcohol and elastic bands. I raise a brow.

“Elastic bands?” I ask, taking the lit lighter he also passes to me.

“They act like molten rubber bullets and stick to the walls. Helps to spread the fire,” he says before stepping back.

“Light her up, Little Sis,” Oct commands, coming up behind me to wrap his arms around me. “You’re so fucking hot causing destruction.”

I laugh, bringing the lighter to the rag and watching it catch with my heart racing and tingles spreading across my body. I feel fucking alive, like for the first time in a long while all the colours shine brightly again. I pull my arm back, mindful of Oct behind me, and then launch the missile at the wall, the shattering glass and the whoosh of fire making my hair fly back from my face.

“Best kind of cocktails,” one twin says with a sigh, and I look to the side to see his face limned in firelight looking all kinds of devilish. “Time to go before it gets too hot.”

I take in the hellish scene before me; the men tied to the chairs all begging and pleading with us to let them go, but they didn’t show me any mercy, didn’t show any of their victims an ounce of mercy, so they shall receive none in return.

Turning my back, I let Oct and the others lead me to the back door, and we all exit the house as an orange glow spreads along the windows.

“We’ll stay and make sure it all burns,” Hunter states, giving each of my guys a handshake. “There’ll be nothing left by the time our guys are done.”

“Thank you, Hunt,” Prince says, looking into the other man’s eyes. “Really appreciate it.”

“It was a pleasure,” one twin says, a dark grin plastered on his face. “Dealing with scum like that is a special treat.” Then he reaches into his back pocket and gets out a bag of fucking marshmallows, pulling out some kind of extendable prong and placing one on the end before strolling over to the burning house and holding it out.

“Fucking degenerate,” Hunter scoffs, turning to me. “You’re welcome to visit Iris once things have settled.”

I tilt my head to the side, wondering exactly what things he’s talking about. Iris and I never fully shared our stories, though I believe she went through something similar to me, and as far as I know, she’s been released now, but I definitely got the impression that although she’d somewhat gotten over the initial trauma, there was something, some danger that she was still worrying about.

“I’d love that. Tell her I say hi, and thank you,” I reply, deciding that it’s none of my business, but that I would love to see her again. It was nice, is nice, having a female friend. There’s only so much testosterone that one girl can handle before she needs some girl time.

“Let’s go home, Sugar,” Prince suggests, taking my hand and leading me to our car. The twins each give me a kiss before heading to their car, and then I’m in the back with Prince again, snuggling into his side as the glow from the fire grows in our rearview mirror.

EPILOGUE

“LIFTS” BY LIA MARIE JOHNSON

EMBER

Peace.

My body loosens as we get out of the car at the top of the cliffs, the sparkling sea spread out before and below us, and the sounds of gulls filling the air as a gentle breeze makes the hem of my floral dress tickle my thighs.

The sound of the guys opening and closing the car doors and the boot fills my ears, then powerful arms are encasing me from behind, the smell of spiced rum filling my nose.

“It’s more than she deserves,” Prince murmurs in my ear, Cas coming up beside me with a small box in his hands. I sink back into Prince’s hold, taking a deep breath of salt-tinged air and letting the morning sun warm my face.

“I know, but we need the closure that only forgiveness will bring, Prince.” My words are soft, and he sighs, his breath tickling my neck just as the twins come up on our other side. “And even villains deserve to be set free.”

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