Page 35 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain
Locane laughs as he rights his head with menacing slowness. He spits a mouthful of blood, something clicking against the floor with it. As our eyes connect, there’s a fire that dances with a mixture of lethal rage and endless amusement.
“You little fucking viper.” Locane smiles wide, blood staining his teeth.
My determination momentarily wavers, and I drop my firm stance, the staff falling slightly. Locane takes the chance to step forward, grab me by the neck, and swing me around until my back hits the wall roughly. I emit a high pitched, startled yelp.
“You broke a tooth. Now I am going to have to go pull the fucker out so it will regenerate. Have you ever had to pull your own tooth, Ellya, hmm?”
My face splits at my victory. “Can’t say that I have. Then again, I wouldn’t know. But you would, wouldn’t you?”
Locane squeezes my throat a hair tighter, putting his face closer to mine, rubbing our noses together before he releases my neck and steps away, chest heaving. He spits a mouthful of blood again.
“Stop spitting on my floor. And tell me the godsdamned truth. What have you compelled me to do?”
“Nothing that didn’t help you.” Locane is walking out of the room, rolling the sleeves of his white shirt up as he goes. I stride with heated purpose behind him, following him down the stairs.
I yell at his back, “Not good enough! Tell me specifically.”
My blood rushes in my ears in deafening waves. With each footfall I become more unhinged.
“Since you insist on having intimate details, the only thing I have compelled you to do is leave your imprisonment.” He swings the door to the vestibule wide before sitting on a bench and roughly pulling on a pair of leather boots.
“That was not intimate fucking details! Again, bare minimum!”
Locane throws a pair of boots at my feet, a clear hint that he wants me to put them on and continue to follow him. He opens the front door and walks out. I scoff in indignant disbelief at his audacity in thinking I will do anything he wants me to at this point.
“Put the shoes on!” Locane screams, his unsettlement on full and terrifying display.
Instead, I collect the boots in my hand and hurl them through the air.
They hit their mark right on the back of Locane’s head. He roars before turning on his heel and stalking quickly back up the steps of the porch. He is about to walk through the front door when I panic and slam it in his face, locking it quickly.
A satisfied grin plasters my face when he jiggles the handle, my smile as wild as my raging heartbeat. His fist pounds on the door,way harder than is necessary—considering I’m standing right in front of it and know he’s there.
“Open the fucking door!”
“And why on the Mother would I do that?”
“Because it’s my fucking house!”
“Has anyone ever told you that you have a filthy mouth?” I struggle not to laugh as I throw the question at him that he asked me only days ago. Giddy excitement courses through me when he growls and jiggles the door handle again.
“You really are an infuriating, insolent child!” Locane screams through the wood.
“Yes, Locane. I am well aware of your rather low opinion of me at this point. But you would think you might try to hide it a little better, considering you so very clearly need my help with something!”
A seething breath hisses against the door. “Open the door, Ellya.”
“Why don’t you just compel me to open it?” I lay the sarcasm and amusement thick. He answers with four rough knocks in quick succession, small panes of glass rattling with each loud thud.
I laugh loud enough for him to hear, the lilting chime piercing the air in a taunting way that I hope boils his blood. It’s deathly silent on the other side of the door, and I think maybe he has given up.
“Don’t think that I won’t,” Locane says softly, almost seductively.
My pulse quickens as it sets in that he might. After I have purposely riled this man whose general disposition can only be described as utterly unpredictable, I can’t help but wonder whathe might do after he enters my mind and forces me to let him back inside.
“I can smell your fear from here. Tell me, what are you afraid that I’ll do to you?” Locane jiggles the handle again menacingly, harder this time. I take a slow step back.
Does he have to be physically near someone to make them do his bidding? Would it be in my best interest to put as much distance between us as I possibly can?
