Page 69 of Dance with Death

It wanders to the sight of Anya, bleeding and begging for death in the hallway. I’d be lying to say it wasn’t a shock to my system to see her unraveled. I’d unraveled her myself more times than I can count, but never so completely.

Vigo has ruined her.

My jealousy has reached its peak, aiding my imagination in drawing up all the vile things Vigo must have done to her. It’s not that he’s done anything to her that bothers me, it’s that he has broken her enough to attempt to find death on her own. She was apathetic about life when she was mine, but she hadn’t actively sought the escape of death. She still had that fight left in her, even if it had been slowly fading over the years.

Just when I thought it was coming back, that I was about to have everything I wanted with myrabynyaand her precious pet, they went behind my back and fucked each other. More than that, they fell in love. Not with me, but with each other.

They were both supposed to be mine—my faithful companions…my willing slaves to offer me comfort on the nights when my grief kicked up and switched on my rage. They were meant to be my reprieve, my outlet for the sexually violent release I needed to get my head back in the fucking game. But they’d ruined it before it even began.

I hate Anya for her betrayal, but there is this nagging, shrill voice from somewhere deep inside me that saw her bleeding in the hallway tonight for what I’d wanted her to be from the beginning.

She’d been there for me, however unwillingly. Her presence had always been a constant which dampened my evil spirit and kept it in check. When she finally broke as my slave and gave me her constant submission, she was the willing angel from heaven who let me clip her wings and use her in all the vile ways I wanted to use her. In doing so, she saved countless others that the devil inside me would have destroyed.

Since she’s been gone, the blackness has been seeping in, swallowing my soul bit by bit. I no longer have her goodness to balance my evil, and her absence has forced me to recognize it. The recognition requires gratitude, though I’m loathed to grant it.

Still, I have a mission with her tonight. A mission based on a longshot and a lie that I told Vigo when I sold her to him. A lie that’s listed in the very contract I used to barter my time with her tonight. Personally, I don’t give a shit about any consequences I might earn for fraud or breach of contract. I only care that Vigo does as he promised when he signed it, and I know the lovely Cordelia O’Shea will keep him in line for that.

My hopeful outcome from this evening is highly unlikely from a statistical standpoint and it may make no difference to Anya, or to myself, in the long run.

But my attempt will absolve me of the burden of gratitude I somehow feel is owed to her for the years she granted me her submission so willingly.

I wish to owe no debt.

I wish to make my attempt at granting her an insurance policy from our night together, then wash my hands of her.

Then I wish to take Ezra home, to find a way to make him and Sasha the companions they need to be to satisfy the demonic urges within me.

Chapter 18

Anya

Being with Ezraagain has both energized and drained me. To think of how determined I was to end my own life only to be brought face to face with him just after my failed attempt…

I’m embarrassed.

I’m ashamed.

I’m guilt-ridden.

Perhaps it was fated for us to be reunited when we were. I don’t know, it’s difficult for me to believe when fate has made my life so miserable.

Miserable until Ezra.

Every moment I’d shared with him alone, from the day I met him, has been filled with passion. Whether it came out as hatred, anger, lust, or fierce and powerful love, every memory I had of him with me was passionate. Our passion fueled me to keep fighting for another moment with him; though at the same time, it drained me of my last dregs of energy so that I felt hopeless and exhausted in his absence.

I need him to be with me forever.

I need him to feed me that fuel every moment so it doesn’t burn out when he’s gone.

I’d nearly snuffed it out myself tonight, and I know I’ll only try again when it dies down to a flicker, a sparking ember.

I made him a promise, though, a promise to try, to give him time to save me. And while I don’t believe it’s possible, I’ll keep my promise to him. I’ll try my best because having his love is the only thing that matters to me.

I’m thankful for the fire he’s lit inside me when Vigo and Nikolai come to retrieve us from the dungeon. I hope and pray that neither man will smell the sex on us. I suppose it doesn’t matter because I know I’m going to be punished for trying to kill myself regardless…I just don’t know how.

Leo is with them and he unlocks the metal choker from around my neck, freeing me. I bring my hands up to rub the sides of my sore neck, relishing the freedom from such an oppressive chain. Ezra stands but Nikolai holds up a palm to stop him.

“You’ll remain here tonight, Ezra.”

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