"Stop whatever you're doing, Kingsley, or I'll chop something vital off." Because I couldn't kill him, not without pinning his soul to his body first.
And that would take the concealed silver knives that were miraculously still in my hair. But using them would mean getting closer, and that was something I just didn't want to do.
He smiled. Power swirled around me, through me, tugging at my resolve, dampening my will.
"You will drop the knife, young Riley."
I gripped it harder. The power became thicker, richer, stirring my senses, pulling at desire. I was a wolf and lust part of my nature, but the desire he was promising was not the sweetness of orgasm but rather death.
Sweat trickled down my spine. "Kingsley, this place is surrounded by the Directorate. If they're not already busting into your lair, they soon will be. Give up, while you can."
"They will never find this place. We are deep underground, and protected by magic. Fighting me is useless, little one."
And the magic swirled, becoming a crescendo from which there was no escape. I wanted to fight it, I desperately wanted to, but it was as if someone had pulled the plug on the sink that was my courage and determination. It all just floated away, and that odd detachment came back full force.
I couldn't beat him. Not alone.
"Come here," he said.
My feet moved me across the room. I fought every step and it didn't matter a damn. Kingsley smiled, and touched a hand to my cheek. His fingers were cool and clammy, reminding me of dead flesh, and the part of me that was still free wanted to scream in horror.
"Look at me," he said softly.
His words were a command that whipped around me, and there was nothing I could do but obey. This close to him, his will was extremely strong, flaying my flesh with power and heat and desire. Despite everything, my body began to respond, my blood flicking like fire through my veins once again.
His gaze was ablaze with hunger and power, but what he hungered for this time was not sex, not emotion, but something far more powerful.
Death.
"Do you wish a completion?"
It was the same question he'd asked in the room with the stocks. Then, as now, I held my tongue, biting down hard on the need to answer.
If I did, it would be the end for me.
"I can give it to you, you know," he continued. "Give you satisfaction of a kind you have never felt."
I didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything. My tongue seemed stuck to the roof of my mouth.
"Do you wish a taste, little one?"
The power swirled, brighter and harder, until my whole body thrummed with it and the need to give in was a wave that was gathering pace toward an eager shore.
And then one of the shadows moved in the other room and awareness shot through me. I was no longer alone in this fight and the thought had energy surging, bolstering floundering will and determination.
"What I want," I said, my words little more than a pant of air, "is for you to fucking die, as horribly as all those women died."
And in one smooth movement, I grabbed the knives from my hair, flicked off the protective covers with my thumbs, and plunged them deep into Kingsley's chest.
Fury filled his eyes, and the power in the air became a weapon that hit with the force of a hammer, throwing me hard across the room. I hit the wall with a grunt, smashing the back of my head as I slid down to the floor. My vision wavered. Stars danced and shadows moved as Kingsley strode toward me. Blood and steam were dribbling from the wound but he didn't really appear to notice.
I scrambled away on all fours, but he grabbed my foot and yanked me to a halt.
"For that, you will pay with pain before I kill you."
"Bastard," I panted, kicking out with my free foot. "Let me go."
"Or you'll what? Kill me? Heard that threat once before, little one, and it is as ineffective as these little knives sticking in my flesh."