Page 33 of The Kiss Of Death
“You must have threatened Yasmine somehow. You knew Tara would bring me to you because she’s her sister and was aware of our plans. But you failed. I still disabled your network.” I took a step forward and repeated, “You failed.”
Levi’s laughter coiled around me, shocking me like a venomous snake. He rose from his seat, bridging the gap between us. His face remained shrouded, yet I could see the merciless edges of his visage and the sharp sting of his gaze.
“What makes you think I give a damn about the others and this trivial competition?” he drawled, his voice filled with amusement. “You see, Dalia…” I felt him circling me like a predator on the prowl. “I don’t chase anyone. Not even you. I wanted you here, and you came to me.”
“And? I won’t give you anything.”
“Willingly.” He chuckled. “Look who grew a backbone. I must be rubbing off on you.”
I held my breath. He lurked behind me, his fingers tracing the edges of my short-haired wig. My heart surged, sending shivers down my spine.
“Remove that ridiculous wig. It’s not you,” his dark voice threatened.
I contemplated my escape options, knowing that the darkness could still conceal me. I made a run for it, but he pulled me back into our deadly dance.
“I didn’t allow you to run.” His hand reached out, and in a matter of seconds, he’d removed my wig. “So predictable.”
I pulled away, and he slowly circled me, hands casually tucked back into his pockets. I was in a fencing stance, my feet firmly planted on the ground, my eyes staying alert of his every move.
“I know all the lies you tell yourself,” he purred. “You strive so desperately to prove that you’re not your father’s fragile little girl. You yearn to be like the mother you barely knew, or like my mother, who you think of as yours. You wish to explore desires that feel like forbidden sins. It fascinates me, Dalia. You fascinate me, and I despise you so strongly for it. It disgusts me.”
“You disgust me too right now,” I lied, crossing my fingers behind my back.
He squared up to me. “Yet I can feel your doll heart beating for me. Maybe you’re even wet for me.”
“Levi,” I breathed. His fingers drew near my flag, his actions calculated, barely perceptible. “I’ll always fight you back.”
I’d never give up because I couldn’t let him become a bully. He wanted to hate me, so I was going to empty him of his hatred until not a single drop was left in him.
With his thumb, he tilted my face to the side. “How’s the cut, little thief?”
Levi Delombre was hauntingly beautiful, as majestic as a dark swan. His pain lurked underneath, tearing at my curiosity, but right now, all I wanted was to play the angriest song ever and do this.
“How are your balls, asshole?”
I mustered the strength to break free, landing a swift kick to his groin. As he gasped in pain and cursed, I seized the opportunity to break free from his grasp.
My victory didn’t last long before his laughter echoed through the room, chilling me to the core. “Fighting me only makes it more exhilarating.”
With a swift motion, I flung the door open.
“I changed my mind. You better run before I catch you,” Levi’s voice haunted me from the corridors.
I dashed through the darkness, heart thundering, each breath searing agony. I fled the Tacticians’ lair, the wind on theBridge of Sighs buffeted me relentlessly. Levi’s taunting words reverberated. It felt as if his presence clung to every looming shadow, silently lurking behind each relentless Tactician, and whispering in the piercing cries that tore through the night until I was abruptly seized. A strong hand clamped over my mouth, dragging me into a room.
An acrid scent of chemicals hung in the air. An assortment of test tubes, beakers, scalpels, forceps, and clamps littered the surfaces. Long iron tables reminiscent of those found in a morgue owned the room. It looked like a chamber of nightmares.
“Well, well, what do we have here?”
Two looming figures, shrouded in the anonymity of skull masks, hovered over me like sinister specters. My stomach churned, the gusting wind outside whistling through the cracks.
“It’s all in your head,” I whispered to myself. “They’re not here.”
“We got a psychotic one.” One of the skull masks cackled.
The other snatched my flag, his gloved fingers ripping it away. They tightened their grip on my arm, the stench of alcohol wafting from their breath. Desperation igniting my limbs, I struggled, kicking out with all my might.
Growing up, I’d never gone out on Halloween night or to carnivals or anything like that because I was afraid of seeingthem. They had tormented me with the same nightmares for ten years, relentless in their pursuit to finish what they had started. In my dreams, I was paralyzed, unable to fight them, to move, to scream. I couldn’t change the outcome. I couldn’t get myself to speak the names of those who destroyed my life. In every nightmare, they took my mom away from me again, and again, and I could do nothing about it.
