“Please,” he sobbed helplessly, and my heart lurched.
“Tell her,” Tavvy instructed darkly, and his hand tightened on the red strands.
The man opened his eyes and turned to meet my gaze. Begging me. Pleading with me. I instinctively stumbled further into Lupe’s warm embrace.
“Please,” he cried again, this time directing his plea at me.
Once more, Tavvy pulled at the red chunks of hair and more than one handful broke free. The man whimpered in pain.
“I fell in love!” he choked out at last. Tavvy released his grip, and the man’s head swung forward, lolling against his chest. “I fell in love with a Mermaid.”
“And?” Tavvy asked darkly.
“And she loved me back. We planned to run away together.” He finally looked up, meeting my gaze. I hated the anguish in his eyes, the pain. It stabbed me repeatedly in the chest until I was nothing more than a puddle of blood. “She was the wife of the Mermaid King.” This confession was said around an exhale of air. His head dropped as if he wasn’t able to hold it up any longer. “Not his mate, but one of his wives. She told me I was her mate. Me. A human.
“Her name was Ali, and she was beautiful. Smart. Funny. Kind. I loved her with my entire heart. Until she died.”
When the man paused in his story, I swung my gaze over to Dair. This woman had been one of his many step-moms. Had he known her? Been close to her? Cared for her? However, his impassive face and slightly pursed lips gave nothing away.
“When the King discovered our affair, he killed Ali. It wasn’t a quick death. He wanted her to suffer. He cut off all her limbs and made her crawl across the floor. And then, in front of me, he cut off her head.” He choked on a sob. “I did the only thing I could think to do - I tried to kill the sick bastard.”
“So you admit you’re a traitor,” Tavvy said lightly. He flashed a smile at me. “Good job.”
“Good job?” I whispered. I couldn’t get in enough air. I was gasping, choking, vomiting on my own breath. Tears burned my eyes.
What had been this man’s crime? Falling in love? Defending her from a crazed mad-man?
I stared into the man’s bright green eyes. I didn’t even know his name, and the powers that be wanted me to kill him. Wanted me to snuff the light out of those eyes that were looking at me with such hope.
Those eyes suddenly widened. His brows had been furrowed, but as I watched, they smoothed over.
And then his head toppled from his body.
A scream lodged in my throat, and I desperately grasped at Lupe’s arms. I had seen death thousands of times before. Hell, I had even been the one to kill.
But this was different. I didn’t know how. Innocent people died all the time; it was just the way life worked. Maybe it was because he had been staring at me with such hope. The man - whose name I still didn’t know - had truly believed I would save him. Me. A savior.
It might’ve been laughable if I didn’t feel like crying.
Tavvy stood over the man’s body, a bloody sword held loosely in his hands. A manic grin twisted his blood red lips.
“You’re a kind soul, Z. It’s going to be your downfall. But don’t worry. I’ll look after you.”
Somebody touched my arm, and I jumped. But the dark skin and calluses were familiar. Bash or Dair must’ve released Ryland when I was focused on Tavvy. I immediately jumped into my mate’s warm embrace, reveling in how safe he made me feel.
“Are you okay?” I whispered hoarsely into his chest. He brushed my hair, kissing my head.
“I’m fine, little assassin. I’m fine.”
A gagging sound pulled my attention away from Ryland.
The five other men were choking, desperately grabbing at their necks and the tightening collar around them. I ran towards them, but it was too late. All five of them fell to the ground, faces blue and cold.
Dead.
Including the young teenage boy.
Tavvy released a sardonic laugh, clutching his belly. When I spun on him, eyes murderous, his laughter only intensified.
“You said release your mate,” he pointed out between chuckles. “Not the other five prisoners.”
THIRTY-TWO
Z
The strangest sense of loss plagued me that night and all through the next day. It was completely irrational, to mourn someone you didn’t even know, but it was my reality.
The man’s name was Jakob.
The boy’s was Radon.
No matter how long I scrubbed at my skin, I could still feel tendrils of blood. I wished I could bleach my hands, my eyes, my mind. I may not have been the one to hold the sword, but it was my admission that had cost Jakob his life.
But Tavvy? He was behind the death of the other five innocent men.
I sat in the now pink water, staring at my pruned hands.
Would they always be a beacon of death, these hands? Would death always trail behind me like a lost, albeit obedient, puppy?
“You’re not going to clean yourself like that.” Ryland’s voice came from behind me, from the shadows converged in the corner of the room, but I didn’t jump. I didn’t do anything but sit in the sickly pink water.
The shadows steadily receded, revealing his face to me. I barely noticed it, barely comprehended what a gift that was.
He drained the water, perching at the edge of the claw-footed tub. Once the tub was emptied, he began to refill it, placing a hand beneath the faucet to check the temperature. Steam billowed, but I relished in the blistering heat. I wondered if it could burn away all my sins.
“How long have you been here?” I didn’t recognize my voice. It was croaky, almost as if I had just gotten out of bed.
“Awhile,” he admitted unashamedly. “I wanted to give you space.”
“And now?”
“I want to take
