My love.
He’s going to kill me.
Chapter 57
Karson
Karson did not want to be here. Every cell in his body wanted to go to her, to cradle her in his arms, and never, ever let her go. It had killed him to give her space. Killed him to know that bastard had hurt her. He would hunt him down. He would cover his balls in melted cheese and let the rats feed upon them. He would peel his skin off his body slowly until he was nothing but raw flesh and leave him in the sun to bake. He would not let the bastard die quickly. That filth would die slowly and suffer in the worst ways possible. He would regret he ever laid a finger on her when Karson was done.
Rage vibrated through his body like it was a living, breathing thing. It churned through his gut so furiously he wanted to vomit. And he had not vomited since he was forced to murder the people who’d hunted him down as a boy. He was strong, battle hardened.
Except when it came to her.
That’s what his love for her did. It made him want to protect her, made him want to murder anyone who dared to even glance sideways at her, made him sick to his stomach knowing what she’d been through.
Karson’s kind might be vicious, lethal, but vampires didn’t hurt children.
Sometimes animals left young that were weak to ensure pack survival, but humans were the only species that abused their babies. They hurt them not because there was anything wrong with the child, but because there was everything wrong with the adult. And the most powerful in their world turned a blind eye to the most heinous of acts on their young. Humans were by far the most despicable of species. God’s wrath should fall upon Earth, every pedophile, every rapist, every abuser, needed to be wiped from existence.
Until then, he was God.
Sensing his mood with some innate survival ability, the crowd scampered out of his way. The club reeked of alcohol, perfume, sweat, and sex. He had dragged himself here to show support for Jacque, a powerful ally with many connections on both sides. Karson needed support—and their absolute submission to his rule—now more than ever. Ethan had informed him the wolf had found her, which meant she was safe where she was for now. But it also meant the battle over the waters loomed ever closer.
He walked through the crowd. Females stared, smiling at him as he passed. He ignored all of them. A few vampires greeted him, but in no mood for chatter, he merely nodded in response.
“You.” A blonde-haired girl of about twenty-one stopped in his path. Clearly, this waif-sized witch had more tattoos scrawled on her body than natural-born instinct. Her pink-painted lips curled up into a snarl. “You killed my cousin.”
Had they been anywhere but in Jacque’s club with his peace-for-all rules, Karson would have tossed her body against the nearest pillar and listened to her thin bones snapping like twigs.
He glanced down at her with a bored expression. “Did I? I’ve murdered lots of people, but only ever those that deserved it.”
She snorted. “He didn’t deserve it. He was sweet and kind and decent.” Her voice cracked and tears welled in her eyes. “You stole him from us. You stole him from a grandmother who adored him, from his niece. She’s only ten and cries all the time for him. You stole him from all of us and I hate you.”
Karson sighed. “The only person your hate hurts is yourself, love. I’d suggest you find yourself a good counsellor to help you move on with your life.”
She jutted up her chin, even as her heart thundered in her chest. “You bastard.”
Karson lowered his voice to something quiet and glowered down. “Yes, and if you don’t get out of my way, rules or not, you will find out just how big a bastard I can be.”
Most would have wet their pants. To her credit, the girl flinched but didn’t back down, even as her heart rate out-beat the music.
“Is everything alright?” A thin witch’s moustache twitched as he asked. He was dressed in flared pants with a high belt like he was intimate with the seventies. “Need I remind you of the rules you both read moments ago?” He raised bushy dark brows. The man looked like he’d struggle to take down a one-winged fly, which meant his magic, possibly what he had stashed in his deep pockets, must be strong.
The girl tore her eyes from Karson to The Seventies. “I was just leaving. It suddenly stinks in here.” She strutted across the floor, knuckling tears from her cheeks.
The Seventies appraised Karson with a cold eye before moving off. Karson would have laughed if he’d been in the mood.
“The only place I want to see a witch is six feet under.” A white-haired vampire sidled up to him.
Once he would have agreed, but everything had changed. He’d changed. Amelia had changed him. And this slimy little prick wouldn’t think twice about ending her life.
Fury vibrated through Karson’s body, begging to be released. He had a sudden urge to rip the nose ring from the little prick’s face.
“Perhaps you’d be better served leaving here and going to The Bite, Ryan.”
“It’s nice here, and besides, it gives us prey to play with after.” He rubbed his heavily ringed hands together, a sly, cold grin on his face as he tracked the room.
Karson grabbed the vampire’s hand, tucking it by his side between them. He heard the cracking sounds as bones dislocated and broke.
