Take Me

“Me?” I touched a hand to my chest. “I am using him as a pawn? I was unaware.”

“Look at him!”

“I have looked at him. What of it?”

Theon’s shoulders sagged as he watched Jett move along the beach, looking like nothing so much as a wandering ghost. “He wasn't like this before we left Syn. You did something to him. You’ve changed him.”

“No, Brother.” I dropped the playful act, my expression hardening. “You changed him. You chose to place him on a throne. You believed you could use him to get what you wanted: destruction of the Fae and revenge for what they took from us. Don't pretend your interest in him is the result of love.”

“But it is!” It was a shriek, something that sounded as if it tore itself straight from Theon’s chest. “I sought to undo what you did to him, you and the others. Using him as a plaything. You tortured him. Defiled him. I sought to change that!”

“Tell yourself that all you want, but we both know the truth.”

“You know nothing. Nothing!”

“You used him as we all did. Why don't you admit that to yourself? Get off your high horse, as the expression goes. I have no time for it, in case you forgot. We have an invasion to mount.”

He would not let me leave him, his arm shooting out, while his claws descended and dug into my arm. “I love him. Don't you understand that? I love him, and you've used him. He's... he's...”

“He is who I need him to be to get what I want,” I replied.

He didn't want to let go of me? Fine. I yanked him close, our noses nearly touching, and I knew my eyes were as black as his. “As for love, we both know that's a lie. Our kind doesn't love. We are incapable of it. So spare me.”

“This was always about you,” he snarled. “I should have known.”

“For once, I have to agree with you. You should have known.”

I threw him away from me. He stumbled back but caught himself quickly, feet spread and head lowered. “You are going to die tonight.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” I said through a yawn.

He flew at me, and I caught him before we both tumbled to the sand. He snapped, his fangs a hair’s breadth from my throat, but I kicked him away with both feet and sent him sprawling.

“You've grown slow and lazy,” I announced, leaping to my feet and brushing the sand from my clothing. “You haven't been challenged in far too long.”

By now, we'd been noticed, and the frenzy of orgiastic feeding quieted as both Synian and maiden alike forgot their hunger in favor of watching us. Sirens, as well, moonlight glinting off their scales as they clustered together, as they watched and murmured with excitement.

He came at me again, fangs shining and claws descended and slashing through the air. Theon only managed to tear my shirt before I pivoted, laughing when he was unable to stop himself. He'd built up too much momentum, and that momentum sent him scrambling past me, kicking up sand in his frenzied attempt to stop his progress.

It wasn't only the fact that he was unable to best me. It was the fact that I was besting him in front of others. I felt it, could sense his fury and humiliation. He'd been manipulated. He knew that now. All of this worked together to addle him, to make him useless as he abandoned tactical reasoning in favor of brute force.

And I had an invasion to attend to.

That was why when he charged at me again, I did not pivot. I didn't grapple with him, either, nor did I throw him across the beach.

I simply outstretched an arm and performed a quick slicing motion.

He halted, almost freezing in his tracks, eyes going perfectly round in an instant before the waterfall of blood began pouring from his sliced throat. I had cut him deep, nearly to his spine, and thus, I had the pleasure of spotting bits of white bone glowing against the inky darkness of his blood before he covered the wound with both hands.

His mouth moved, and though he made no sound, I understood what he was trying to say. Jett. Jett.

Theon’s eyes darted frantically before he fell to his knees, head turning from side to side as he sought his supposed love while blood flowed over his fingers and soaked into the sand.

Jett reached my side, but I held an arm out in front of him to bar the way. Not that I believed he wanted to help his dying husband, not that I believed such a thing was even possible.

I simply would not allow Theon to have even a moment’s peace or comfort at the end.

“You heard your king!” I surveyed the crowds around me, noting their degrees of pity, surprise, and even contempt. “Follow the glow in the distance. Follow the sight of the smoke from their fires. Take the village but bring the girl to your king!” And to me, as I had no intention of leaving Jett’s side.

Theon fell onto the sand, convulsing, while still trying in vain to stop the flow. Finally he reached out, one blood-coated hand outstretched toward Jett. “Please,” he mouthed, straining to touch even the hem of Jett’s slacks. “Please… Jett… love…”

“Come.” I turned Jett around until his back was all Theon would see in his final moments. “We have work to do.”

Theon gave one last desperate effort, but it was no use. I could not help but smile at the mask of agony he wore before collapsing entirely.

As we walked away, the sound of his dying gurgles was music to my ears.