Page 18 of Omission

The healer from earlier found nothing outside of a substance in their system that would flush out naturally. Herbal, yes, with a touch of blood, which surprises me, but with nothing known to counteract the effects of what they took.

So I waited.

Rest. Sleep. To be kept locked away and safe until it passes.

Until now.

The little they ingested lasted all of thirty minutes to dilute in their system. No more excuses. They took my kindness for a fool, and now, I smile while striding past the two warriors stationed outside the entrance silently watching the floor. They cannot hear or scent anything being off until I place a hand over each man’s shoulder and squeeze it.

That was the signal of my arrival, and they heed it. Keeping up the pretense, they each give a subtle tilt of the head in a minute bow before regaining their rigid stance. Both stare straight ahead. Both smile just a tiny bit.

“We were paid to be a distraction—nothing else. If we’re caught…” Angelo trails off, barely moving his lips so as to not draw attention while pushing his long hair back. “This is bad. I have a feeling—”

“That nothing in life is ever that easy, gentlemen.” They both scream at the sound of my voice, nearly tripping over themselves to move away from the table, but the cock of two guns, as I seat myself at the edge of the table, stops them. Then there’s the horrified look they each give me as I rematerialize, showing myself completely. I’m balancing the tip of my favorite dagger at the center of my palm, with no other weapon on me. None needed. “Or did you honestly think you’d get away with this farce?”

“Y-Your Majesty,” Flavio stutters, then clears his throat a few times, swallowing hard. His face is ashen, but I’ll give the moron credit for bowing his head in a false show of respect with what he thinks is a genuine smile. He’s as worthless as a piss stain. “I…we…I don’t have enough words to thank you and—”

“Is this the route we’re going to take?”

“Of course, my king. We’re so thankful and honored by your compassion.”

“You truly are a piece of work, Flavio.” That has him taking a step back; I just confirmed hearing everything they said. Up until this point, we didn’t have a name or a way to identify these two. They’d been smart and carried nothing that’d give us any clue. “But I’ll give you another chance. Are you ready?”

“I don’t understand, my king.” His perplexed expression is almost convincing, but the shifty eyes—he’s unable to meet my eyes. Then there’s the sweat beading on his brow while he shuffles from foot to foot, all unconscious movements but very telling.

“It’s a simple yes or no question, warlock. I won’t ask again.”

“We are, King Leonardo. Our apologies,” Angelo answers this time, but I don’t take my eyes off Flavio. And the longer I stare, the more his body reacts and his fear permeates the air. It’s heady in a different way, tantalizing but not sexually. No. This feeds that craving—the retribution my bloodline calls for as they’re involved with the fae kingdom.

By love or because they fuck one; either way, they came with a deceitful purpose.

To take advantage of my kindness.

“Who sent you here?” One beat. Two beats. Nothing. So be it. The blade in my hand rips through the air before slicing across Angelo’s cheek. It’s a warning cut, shallow, and the few drops of blood currently running down his cheek are a punishment for playing games. “Is that too difficult of a question?”

“No.” The older male’s voice is low. Very subdued. “I’m sorry.”

“Less apologies and more answers, warlock.” My aura expands, and they feel the weight of each word. The command. “Who. Sent. You. Here?”

“We were paid to—”

“We were paid to try a healing mixture and had adverse effects, my king,” Flavio says, effectively cutting his cousin off. He’s smiling again, the look is a bit creepy—obnoxious. “That’s it. I swear it.”

“Cut your bullshit. I already know.” As soon as the last word leaves my lips, I disappear again and both men freak out. Their eyes are wide and their expressions frantic, turning from right to left in search of me before plastering themselves against the nearest wall. Angelo is the smarter of the two, and he angles his body toward the still-open door before taking a sideways step. Then another.

He gets close enough to the exit that if he were to reach a hand out, it’d be just beyond the threshold. That’s it. Not a single inch closer as alarm bells sound and metal doors slamming shut begin to pierce the air.

One by one, every door on this floor closes and then they’re trapped inside with me while the guards outside the door walk away. They watch them do so through a small window at the center of the door. It’s no bigger than the size of a large book and maybe an arm could fit through, something Flavio tests when he pushes Angelo aside and punches his hand through it, trying to get someone—anyone’s—attention by waving his hand around like a lunatic.

“Please let us out! We’re in here!” he screams, while the other man’s face drains of all color. The enormity of their stupidity is sinking in. Not slowly, but with the weight of a battering ram as a second later I’m lifting Flavio, dragging his arms roughly through the opening full of jagged glass and slicing open his arm. He cries out in pain and blubbers something about not being able to see me before I toss his body at the wall behind me.

There’s a thud, the harsh sound of a hard impact before I scent blood in the air.

A coppery and tangy smell that has me craning my head from side to side. Not like Theodore would—I do not care to feed on this man—but because his pain brings me joy. If nothing else, I’ll walk out of this room feeling lighter at another threat to my family—my people—being extinguished.

“Please, my king. Let’s talk.”

I’m standing before him before the man can take in another breath; I allow him to see me. “Then do so, Angelo. Answer my question and all this ends here. You have my word.”

---