“No!” I shrieked, pulling my wrist as hard as I could. Blood has a taste when it’s in the air. I had long ago learned that. Rune’s blood tasted like agony and spice. Hot, painful tears burned my eyes, spilling over to pour down my cheeks. I choked on bile. “Fucking bastard.”
Godric pulled his fist out of Rune’s chest, the god-man dead, his entire frame slumping with no muscle to hold it up. Rune’s heart was in Godric’s hand, and he turned toward me and crushed it inside his fist. He bared his teeth in a disgusting smile, enjoying my pain and horror. “Your scream is so pretty. Do it again.”
I swallowed hard and turned my head away, my whole body jerking from shock.
Godric shook his hand down by his side, the remainder of the heart splattering the sand. His hips swung with a pleased swagger as he strolled back to the rock, his gaze turning to the redhead. “Isn’t this the best time, Ms. Carvene? You must be enjoying it since you haven’t killed this body yet.”
The back of her free hand was against her mouth, her words choked, “Death won’t be good enough for you.”
He hit the hilt of the sword again, allowing it to spin in a rapid motion. “Blah, blah, blah. Let’s see who the next person is! That’s so much more fun than the empty threats.”
Through tear-filled eyes, I stared at the sword.
It stopped.
Poppy finally reacted, her hand dropping to her side. She hissed, “Don’t touch him.”
Godric’s brows rose high on his forehead. “There it is. A little fire.”
His feet danced across the sand, the shit flying everywhere again.
Poppy moved with him, tracking his progress.
Her reaction pleased him immensely as he stopped directly in front of Cassander. He pointed a bloody finger at him, watching her face. Smirking in triumph. “So you care if he dies?”
Poppy growled, “He’s the seer.”
“And this body is a king.” Godric opened his arms wide and blatantly flexed his muscles. “And a king can kill the seer.”
She moved a step closer to her lover. “Do. Not. Touch. Him.”
Godric lifted one finger and pressed it to Cassander’s chest. “You mean like this?”
Cassander jerked his shoulders brutally, trying to throw off Godric’s touch.
Godric only pressed harder, his whole palm flattening against Cassander’s chest—right over his heart.
Poppy took one large last step and lifted the gun. Her hand shook terribly, but she held the barrel of the weapon right against her lover’s temple, holding her ground. She snarled in rage, “Get your fucking hand off him.”
Godric’s eyes lit with demented evil. “Not a chance, Ms. Carvene.”
His fingers curled over Cassander’s heart, and his muscles flexed. He pushed.
Crack.
My head jerked at the sound, my chest heaving in oxygen.
Godric’s massive body swayed to the left and then crumpled down to the sand. Half his head was lying all around him, brain matter and hair and his skull, all splattering the area. Blood pooled from the gaping wound, crimson and loss like a halo atop his head. His eyes were wide open, staring lifelessly across the sand he lay upon.
Poppy’s arm dropped to her side.
The gun tumbled to the ground, hitting the sand with a soft thud.
Cassander’s muscles bulged, and he bellowed in the horrible silence. His arms flew out in front of him, the cuffs around his wrists breaking. He grabbed at the gag in his mouth and yanked it out, rushing to order, “Turn away from the body. Breathe through it.”
Poppy’s head shook in a negative. Her body continued to quiver. She stared down at her dead lover.
All around, the remaining men, who were alive, were breaking free of their bonds.
