Page 63 of Cosmic Power

He had started off slow; first by tearing her blonde hair from her scalp with his bare hands. Then he broke her arms and legs, letting them heal before he did it again and again, relishing in every single cry of pain, every tear she shed. He had a lot of anger to work through. And all of it could be traced back to her.

Luther spent the majority of the night searching for the three shifters Void thought might know Barnabas’ location. Along with Zvetari, they had checked six strip clubs, three bars and so many brothels that Luther had lost count.

They came up empty-handed. Void was sure that if they were out, they’d be at any one of those places. He surmised that since they weren’t, they were the ones guarding Zamorra. Which meant they wouldn’t be coming out into the real world for a while.

By the time they were done, the sun was just beginning to rise. The night had accomplished nothing, and he was even angrier than he was before they started. Luckily for him, he had an outlet for all that anger, for the bubbling rage he had inside him that just continued to build and build until it threatened to boil over.

Torture. And he so did enjoy torture. Very much so.

Leilani screamed again as Luther pulled the last nail left on her hand out, her body shaking as pain rippled through her. She panted hard, sweat and tears glistening on her skin. Whimpering, she turned her head to stare into Luther’s red eyes. Searching for what, he was unsure.

“Luther, please,” she sobbed, “Enough. I can’t take any more. It hurts so bad, my love.”

Luther arched a brow. “It’s supposed to.”

“You don’t mean that. I know you don’t want to do this. Not deep down. You still love me. I know you do. The fact that you haven’t let the past go proves that. You’re doing this because you’re angry—”

Luther rammed his clawed hand into her side and tore out her kidney. She howled in pain, her back bowing. “Of course I’m angry, Leilani,” he said conversationally as he dropped the organ onto the table with a wetsplat. Before the wound could close, he poured salt directly into her body.

“Arghhhh, noooooo!” she cried, straining against her bonds, so much pain in her voice that it made Luther smile.

“You betrayed me. Left me for dead. How else am I supposed to feel?” Using a sharp, serrated knife he cut deeply into her thigh, carving her up like a pumpkin on Halloween while she screamed in agony. “But you want to know what I’m most angry about? What’s playing on the forefront of my mind as I cut into your skin?” Leilani’s flesh squelched as he carved in and out, in and out, her cries ringing through the wide open space. “That it’s your fault that Barnabas has Zamorra.”

Leilani stopped screaming and pinned him with her red, angry eyes. Up until that point, she hadn’t shown anger. There had been panic, fear, hurt…but not anger. Not until Zamorra’s name passed his lips. Dark jealousy vibrated from her.

“I’m glad I gave her to him,” she hissed, spit flying out of her mouth. “You should have known better. You can never replace me. I hope he’s passing her around like a fucking ragdoll, getting brutalised by all his men. That’s all they use female werewolf shifters for. I’m just pissed off that I couldn’t watch!”

Luther locked down the rage her words caused. He wouldn’t allow her to get a rise out of him. After what Zvetari told him, Luther knew that wasn’t the reason why Barnabas took Zamorra. He didn’t take her to breed her. He took her for the blood offering.

Zamorra was a descendant of the Ancestral Shifter and Barnabas planned to bleed her dry to activate the shifter crystal.

Putting the knife down, Luther ran his fingers along the assortments of instruments at his disposal. So many choices. What to use next?

He picked up the rusty hacksaw.

This will do nicely, he thought.

Fear flashed in Leilani’s eyes as he held the hacksaw over her leg just below the knee. “Enough, Luther. This has gone on long enough.” She tried to sound strong, authoritative, but Luther knew better. Her voice shook so badly that he could barely understand the words.

He stared straight into her eyes, letting the evil he kept locked deep inside him finally free. Darkness coiled around him and hummed in the air, making Leilani shrink back at the pure malevolence dripping from every inch of him. Red shone from his eyes. Sharp black claws sprung from his fingers. His body grew in length and width as he let his anger fully consume him and take over.

He leaned over so he was face to face with her, his lips an inch away from her skin. “It will never be enough,” he whispered darkly. “But I will take the pound of flesh I am due and then, I will make you suffer all over again for taking her away from me. By the time I’m finished with you,my love,”he sneered that last part, letting the contempt and hatred he felt for her shine through, “you will wish you were never born. In your human lifeandyour vampiric one.”

For the next few hours Luther cut, stabbed, skinned and tore into Leilani with the force of a man possessed. Because he was. He was possessed with this insatiable need to make her suffer. To make her cry and scream. To make her last few hours on Earth the most painful she had ever experienced.

He carved her open and took out all her organs. He ripped out her eyes with his clawed fingers. He cut out her tongue and pulled out all her teeth. All while she screamed and begged him to stop. But he wouldn’t. He was enjoying himself too much. Relishing in those cries like they were the greatest gift on the planet.

When he was finally done he cut off her head, letting that horrified, pain-filled look remain plastered on her face forever.

Like some fanatical serial killer, Luther stood back to admire his work. He had plans for her body. Plans that included stringing her up for the entire supernatural community to see, so that everyone could witness what lay in store for them should they touch what was his. He had much,muchworse in store for Barnabas.

Luther cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders back.

One down, two to go. He turned and pinned his red eyes on Maddox and Ophelia.

They trembled as he stalked towards them, wiping blood from his brow.

“My-my Lord”—Maddox stuttered, his whole body shaking with fear—“Pleas—”

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