Page 98 of Court of Evil

One way or another, they will die tonight.

Magic soars past me like a whip, wrapping around Goose and yanking him past me to Jarek.

They will incapacitate them, and I’ll kill them.

It will work, but Black?

Black is mine.

I duck under Wick’s meaty fist, and Addeus drags him away. Santos suddenly disappears, undoubtedly from Zeev’s magic. Ara steps before me, but Ronan and Fang distract him and lead him away, giving me a clear shot to Black.

Flipping the dagger to face inwards, I head towards him. He waits with a cocky grin on his face, but it falters briefly when Istep over Eric’s body. He’s not so sure anymore, and I can use that. I feint a swipe, and when he ducks under it, I kick out, sending him sprawling back. He recovers quickly, and his boot hits my side hard enough that I feel my ribs crack. Ignoring it, I dance out of his reach, which is the only thing that saves me as his fist comes up. I duck and weave, recalling moves we have done a million times in sparring matches.

We were always equal then, but we aren’t now.

He has a weakness. He’s scared of dying, and I am not.

I use that, making risky movements and leaning into hits that could kill me, but it pays off when he stumbles back. I dive at him, knocking him to the floor, and raise the dagger in a killing blow when my name splits the air in a panicked yell.

“Tate!” I turn at Ronan’s shout to see them struggling with Ara. I look at Black and debate killing him before I turn and hurry to help. Black can wait. I will not lose my people due to my revenge.

I leap onto Ara’s back as Fang holds one arm, Ronan the other, and drive the blade in deep, cutting his head off. He loved knives so much, at least he’d appreciate the irony of it.

Hopping off his corpse, I nod at them but sense movement behind me, then I see their eyes widen in horror.

Arms grab me from behind, and I fly through the air. I stop abruptly, then I’m lowered gently. When I glance over my shoulder, I nod my thanks to Jarek, who turns his attention back to his own battle. The dagger is done, knocked away in the attack, but I spy the glowing stones and dive at it, only to be blocked by Black. He grips the back of my shirt, lifts me in the air, and tosses me at the ceiling. I hit the panels hard, agony blooming in my back as I drop and hit the floor. I roll at the last second to stop him from breaking my face.

He’s on me again, gripping my neck as he flips me, cutting off my air as he grins above me. Black liquid drips from his lips andhits me, making me buck in disgust as I try to dislodge him, but he’s too strong. He’s going to break my neck.

Panting for breath under him, I watch as Ronan takes a running slide, grabs the dagger, and tosses it to me. I catch it with my extended hand, and with my last bit of strength, I slam it up. I can only reach his side, but he roars and falls off me. I see terror in Black’s eyes as he scrambles across the floor until his back hits the wall.

He covers the wound with his hand, eyeing the blade before he looks around, seeing they are losing, then he leaps to his feet and stumbles down the corridor, leaving a blood trail.

Rolling to my knees then my feet, I grip the blade and notice Goose is the closest. Furious, I leap at him and slice, gutting him before I sweep the blade across his neck. He falls down, dead like the others.

The blade is doing its thing, and it’s so hot in my hand it almost burns, but I don’t let go.

Turning, I find Wick on his knees with Addeus behind him. “It’s your kill.”

I walk over, staring into Wick’s soulless eyes. “I hope you never find peace,” I tell him as I stab the blade in and jerk it to the left and out. His head falls from his shoulders.

There’s a noise, and I turn to see Santos escaping Zeev’s choking grip. I smirk and head after him as he trips over Eric’s body and falls. Turning, he sees me coming, his eyes widening with true fear in those soulless depths.

“Wait, wait, Tate, please!” Santos screams as he crawls backwards to avoid me.

I ignore his pleas as I grab his hair and slice his head off, killing him.

Looking around, I find my entire team dead, their heads and bodies scattered around like broken dolls—all but Black. My eyesreturn to the trail of blood, and I know if I let him get away now, it will be worse, so I head after him.

“Tate, wait!” I ignore their calls as I run down the corridor, tracking the blood and smeared handprints on the wall that lead to the back door. I step out into the fresh air, seeing a pool of blood, but there’s no more after. It clicks into place as I sense it.

I roll forward to avoid him as he drops from the roof, his black blood spilling from his foaming mouth. He kicks the door that I came through shut and grabs a dumpster, blocking it as he heads towards me. “There’s no one to help you now, little girl.”

I grin. “Nor you.”

“You think you’re so strong with that dagger and those monsters behind you, but you’re nothing more than a hole to stick a dick into. Even when you were a hunter, you were weak with sentiment, too fragile and hormonal. I knew you wouldn’t last, but I was curious how much I could push you. I wanted to see you cross the line. I made a bet that I could make you do those things and you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself. Oh well, you’ll die either way. No one will care, and it will change nothing.”

“You’ve got it wrong, Black. That sentiment that you think makes me weak actually makes me strong. It makes people want to follow me—not out of fear, but out of trust and loyalty. It makes me stronger than you will ever be, and no one will remember you. You’re weak, Black, always have been. You’re nothing without a team, without someone to order around. You’re an old man the world doesn’t care about, and you can’t stand that you are weaker than the monsters you hate so much—weak mind, heart, and stomach.” I hold out my arms. “Kill me if you can.”

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