Page 423 of Rage

“What was that?” my companion asked, the vampire turning to look into the night, his preternatural gaze spotting far more than mine could. I trusted Edwige, trusted her abilities and instincts. She would hide herself in the shadows until the perfect moment to take her prey. That she had allowed me to take part in her vengeance was a gift I would never take for granted.

“I have been informed by the staff that the gargoyles come alive under the moonlight.” I told him, gesturing to the waxing orb floating high above us in the rare, clear night.

“Gargoyles, truly?”

“You are a vampire, and I am an orc. There are whispers of a toothtaker roaming the streets, and yet you don’t think that the gargoyles can awaken under the moon and cavort through my roses? Especially on a night of such… revelry?” I asked, chuckling a little at the annoyed little twist of Gyrhorn’s too red lips. That sent the man whirling away from me, thewonder and delight completely abandoning his features, cold fury sharpening them into what I was certain was his true face.

“What do you know of the toothtaker?” He hissed, sinking into a crouch as though he planned on attacking me.

“I know every scar,” I whispered, taking a step back, then another, as though his posturing was intimidating, my eyes on Edwige. She was beautiful in her nudity, snow white skin shining in the moonlight, brilliant silver teeth bared and claws extended. “I know every wound… I know her name,” I growled.

Edwige

I leapt, landing on his exposed back like a jungle cat, silent and deadly.

He didn’t even have time to scream as I tangled one of my hands in his greasy blonde hair, the scent of expensive oil turning bitter with the sudden fear he emanated. I wrapped the other around his throat, revelling in the sensation of my claws as they sunk into the cartilage and flesh before burying themselves between the hardness of his delicate vertebrae. He released a wail, the sound bright and pained before it stuttered in a gurgle, and then silence when I stole his ability to speak, to breathe.

So perfect, this final vengeance. The night above me, its moon silvering my prey and my flesh and the hothouse flowers around us. None of it soiled by a single cry from the creature I fully intended to destroy.

“I couldn’t scream, either,” I said, giggling into his pale white ear. “I could cry, though. Are you crying?” I jerked his head back by his platinum hair, looking at his frozen face. “There they are. Sweet, sweet tears just for me. A gift for me, a curse for you,” I crooned. I groaned as I dug into a juicy vein, feeling the viscous,red fluid gush into my palms, pooling in them before sliding out of my grip and down his ruined throat.

My feet were planted on either side of his sloping shoulders and I squatted atop of him. “I care a great deal,” I whispered into his dirty, hairy ear as I tore his head from his neck.

The wet cracklingpop-pop-popsound of ripping his head from his shoulders was a new and thrilling sensation. The hot spray of blood across my skin, however, was not. It was red, and wet, and stank enough that my own gorge rose in my throat.

“Blood and bones, and teeth and groans,” I muttered, dropping the still-blinking head to the earth and shaking myself like a wet dog. Blood droplets fell off of me, but mostly it just spread the viscous fluid over my skin. The head stared at me, its eyes going dull as I watched.

“Take your due, little demon,” Hargrave urged, the soft words drawing me out of the reverie I’d slipped into, entranced by the way the blood seeped out of the ragged stump and oozed through the network of pea gravel. He would need to replace the path, or at the very least rinse it thoroughly. I reached out, my claws shining black, the miniscule designs on them obscured by the gore. I crouched once again, peering into the dead, dull eyes of my lifeless tormentor, before reaching out with my deadly claws and sinking them into the brittle bones of his mouth, the visceral crunch drawing a moan of satisfaction from me. His teeth fell to the ground, the faint pinging of bone and stone so barbaric when compared to the lovely, clear bells of my claws. Scorn filled me. He was all bluster and no substance, even in death. I twisted my fingers, dislodging the deeper molars and fishing them out, piling my cache of bones in the thin fabric of my chemise where it stretched into a basket between my thighs.

Soon I had them all, 32 perfect teeth rattling in my grasp, shining in the moonlight, ready for my collection.

“It’s done,” I whispered, holding one of the fangs up to the light, carefully pressed between my claws.

“It is indeed, my perfect creation,” I flinched at the voice, turning to face the woman I had not seen since that fateful night, when I had chosen fury over peace, when I’d needed to sate my rage more than I needed to allow myself to finally rest. A choice that I could never regret, not with a palm full of teeth and a hulking orc at my side.

“Maslenitsa,” I whispered, dread pooling in my gut, replacing the half-mad glee that had been there.

“Smart little witch,” she crooned, reaching out to me with her pale blue fingers crooked. I took a step back, recalling the last time she’d ran the icy pads over my flesh, how she’d frozen my skin solid, killing it along with the pain. The movement didn’t seem to surprise her. She even smiled, as though I were one of her more clever pupils. “You will be a lovely addition to my court.”

“What do you mean?” Hargrave was beside me, going toe-to-toe with the terrifying deity.

“She has completed her vengeance,” the goddess said, turning her brilliant sapphire eyes on my lover. “Unless she has more deaths to offer me, she must accept her demise and enter court, as an honored member, of course. Edwige will want for nothing at my side, orc.”

“If it’s death you need…” Hargrave said, a vicious smirk cursing his lips, “then I think I can keep Edwige busy. If that’s what you want, my love?” He asked, turning to me, “I don’t mean to speak for you,” He added, looking so contrite that I almost laughed.

“Are you asking me to be your... assassin?” I replied, looking up into his dark eyes, the fiery light in their very depths seeming to burn brighter the longer I held his gaze.

“I am asking for so much more than that, little demon, but if having you maim and kill my enemies will keep you by my side, then yes, I hope you can be my assassin.”

“I think I prefer wife,” I told him, wrapping my free hand, dirty as it was, in his warm one, “but I will kill whoever you want me to.”

The fading snickers of the terrifying goddess punctuated our kiss.

---