I torque my wrist.
SNAP.
The sound is loud, like dry porcelain breaking.
Her left fang shears off at the root.
Matilde shrieks—a high, bubbling sound of agony. Blood fills her mouth.
SNAP.
I break the right one.
I drop her.
She falls into the mud, clutching her mouth, spitting blood and fragments of tooth. She curls into a ball, wailing, her dignity shattered, her weapon destroyed. She looks small. Pathetic.
I stand over her, my chest heaving. I look at the vampires in the trees. I meet their gaze, my eyes burning violet and gold.
"Does anyone else want to file a complaint?" I ask.
Silence.
They bow their heads. One by one, they fade back into the shadows, acknowledging the transfer of power.
I look down at Matilde. She is sobbing, ruined.
"Finish it," I say.
I’m not talking to her.
Jax steps up beside me. He is limping slightly, covered in mud, but his eyes are clear. The gold is burning bright.
He looks at Matilde. He looks at the woman who killed his father, who tortured my mother, who tried to burn us alive.
He doesn't hesitate.
He reaches down. He grabs Matilde by the back of her neck and twists.
Crack.
It is quick. Efficient. A mercy she didn't deserve.
Matilde Duval goes limp in the mud.
The threat is offline.
The silence that follows is heavy, ringing in my ears. The fire in the bayou is dying down, leaving only the smell of smoke and wet char.
My knees give out.
The adrenaline crash hits me hard. The power recedes, leaving me shaking, cold, and painfully human.
I stumble.
Jax catches me.
His arms wrap around me, solid and warm. He pulls me against his chest, holding me up when my legs refuse to work.
