Page 156 of Fight or Flight
I stumble back, tripping over my feet as my brain tries to catch up with what’s happening.
His strides are long and unhurried, and I let out a surprised gasp when I backpedal right into the wall.
Jace stalks right up to me and stops when we’re toe-to-toe. We’re close to the window, and the moonlight streaming through the ornate stained-glass bathes him in warm swirls of colors, giving him an ethereal and unearthly glow.
He’s beautiful, but it’s like he’s not even Jace anymore.
He’s just a shell of the guy I thought I knew. His eyes are empty. There’s nothing in them. No intelligence, no chaotic energy. It’s like all the life is gone from them. Like they’re dead.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” he asks in a deadly calm voice that’s completely devoid of emotion or even inflection.
Instead of trying to speak again, I shake my head.
His hand closes around my throat. He’s not squeezing hard enough to cut off my air, but the threat that he could if he wanted to is clear.
“You have exactly ten seconds to say something that will convince me to keep asking questions.” He tightens his grip the slightest bit. “Otherwise I’m going to get bored.” He presses against my windpipe, using just enough force that my next breath comes out as a gurgle. “And trust me when I say you don’t want me to get bored.”
The world is going a bit hazy, and it feels like the room is spinning around me as I’m hit with another memory fragment.
“You’ve killed people?”
“Yup.”
“How many?”
“How many people have I killed? Don’t know. Never bothered to keep count.”
“Now.” He releases a bit of the pressure on my throat. “Do you have anything you want to say to me?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, but it comes out barely louder than a whisper.
An eerie grin slides over his lips, but his eyes are still completely expressionless, so the effect is no less scary than when his face was completely blank. “Are you sorry that you betrayed my trust? Or are you sorry that you got caught?”
“Both,” I whisper.
“Yet you still decided to steal my card and break into my room so you could snoop through my stuff.” He leans closer, and my entire body clenches with fear. “And do you know why you were able to do all of that?”
I shake my head, or at least try to, under the weight of his hand still around my neck.
“Because I let you,” he whispers. Something dark and primal flares in his eyes, and his smile widens. “And do you know why I let you?”
“No,” I rasp.
“Because you either have a death wish or you want me to punish you.”
I let out a surprised cry as he yanks me off the wall and throws me onto the floor.
The breath rushes from my lungs as I land on the hard wooden planks, and I blink into the darkness as pain radiates through my side from the impact.
“So.” He plants one foot on my shoulder and gives it a hard shove, forcing me to roll onto my back. “Do you have a death wish?” He stands over me, one foot on either side of my arms. “Or,” He reaches into his pocket and pulls something long and thin out of it. “Do you want me to punish you?” He flips the object around in his hand, then slides a straight razor out of the handle. “I’m going to have a great time either way, so choose carefully.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Everyone’s always sorry when they get caught.” He crouches over me and holds the razor out so the moonlight gleams off the mirror-like surface, showing off how sharp it is. “But not sorry enough to not do it in the first place.” He spins the blade around his fingers like it’s not a deadly weapon. “And here I thought you were different.” He stops spinning the razor and holds it up in the light again. “But you still thought it would be a good idea to betray my trust.” He lowers the blade of the razor to my neck but stops before it touches my skin.
I freeze, instinctively holding my breath as the blade hovers over my throat. I have no idea how deep a neck wound has to be in order to be fatal, and I’m not in any hurry to find out.
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t show you exactly what happens to people who betray me,” he says in that deadly calm voice. “And you only have one chance, so think carefully before you speak, because they could be your last words.”
