Tristan strode to them and it immediately hit him that Kyla’s grandfather smelled like fear.
“How is she?” Adrian asked while taking a step back.
Tristan raised his index finger to signal one sec, reached over, yanked the dagger out of Liam’s back and immediately plunged it into Adrian’s chest before Adrian had a chance to react. Tristan then leaned over and retrieved the other dagger from the sheath attached to Adrian’s belt.
“Fuck, Tris…” Sam reacted, “You’re lightning fast, man. And you’re pretty fucking close to his heart.”
“Back up and shut the fuck up,” Tristan clipped, looking Sam right in the eye, resulting in Sam following those orders instantly.
He stood over Liam, chest rising and falling rapidly, as he waited for the motherfucker to wake up. The rage burned and churned in him and then as the blond vamp came to, Tristan felt cold descend over his skin like a blanket of frost.
Liam’s bloodshot eyes were brimming with fear. He looked groggy; the first few minutes after waking from being daggered were like that and Tristan knew that he’d felt weak from recovering and knew that waking after being daggered for a few days didn’t just leave a vamp weak, they left a vamp depleted due to hunger. There’d be nausea, too. But Liam wasn’t just coming to, Liam knew he was done.
Done, done.
Tristan’s rage took over; he felt the change in himself. The chill crept deeper into his veins, over his bones, and rose up in his gut and then he quickly reached into Liam’s mouth, pressing onto his gums until his fangs dropped and then Tristan punched him in the mouth, full force. The vamp spat his left incisor and two other non-canine teeth out and let out a sob. Tristan then reached, lightning fast, into Liam’s gut, feeling the flesh split, feeling the vamp’s panic bubble up and over. As he gripped, he twisted 180 degrees and then let go, gripped again, and did the other 180 degrees but held on.
He got an inch away from Liam’s face, looked right into his eyes, then said in a low growl, “You’ll bleed out before I rip your head off. You will bleed out in case you’ve still got even a drop of her blood inside you. You don’t die until you’re completely empty. Burn in hell.” And then he yanked and watched, chest rising and falling, his eyes stone cold, until he saw that the vamp had bled nearly all out and was barely there. He then flicked the handful of flesh and whatever-the-fuck from his guts onto the bastard’s face before his fingers gripped then separated his head from his neck.
He pulled the dagger from Adrian and held both jewel-handled knives in midair, looking over Adrian Constantin while waiting for him to wake. When that fucker’s eyes opened he took in the grisly scene of Liam Donavan’s headless body on the floor in a large pool of blood, the head torn off and insides all over his face while his guts were still attached to his body.
Adrian’s eyes moved to see that Tristan had both the smaller dagger that’d been made for Kyla as well as his own and shook his head, pleading, “Don’t kill me. You need me. I have information that might help you get her nectar back.”
Tristan’s eyes narrowed, “I have it. It’s back. I don’t need this steel to stop you. I could kill you a lot of different ways, man.”
Adrian raised one eyebrow, “It’s back?”
Adrian looked beyond Sam, who was standing, quietly. Tristan glanced over his shoulder and then looked up and saw Kyla, hands on the banister, looking down at them. She started to descend the stairs.
“Stop, Kyla,” Tristan ordered.
She stopped. Her eyes appeared to be on the grisly scene on the floor.
He felt a little sick. Had she seen and comprehended what he’d just done? He didn’t show a reaction. Neither did she. She must not have absorbed it.
“You need something, Kyla?”
She looked pale. Really pale.
“Thirsty.”
“There’s water in the bedroom on the dresser. Did you see it?”
“Grape,” she said dazedly.
He almost smiled. Almost.
“I’ll find you some. Wait in bed for me, baby.”
“Okay, Tristan.”
She turned and slowly walked back up.
“I can be useful to you. What do you want? What’ll convince you to let me live?” Adrian asked and Tristan’s gaze swung back to him.
“I want her back,” he growled, “With her essence, with everything that made her Kyla. Can you give me that? Unless you can give me that, I say you deserve to die the same death as him,” Tristan’s gaze moved to the massacre on the floor.
“I have a cocktail that might help a little and I can assemble a team to program her---”
Tristan ignored that asinine comment, “Actually, no. Uh uh. You deserve worse. He did what he did because he was driven by urges after tasting enchanted blood. You’re much more dangerous and evil than that. Maybe I’ll punish you for a whole lot longer before I end you.”