I like this.
I trace my blade up and down the man's bare legs and flick it near his groin.
“You like that? Is this what you want? Women on their knees, worshipping your pathetic cock and”—I wrinkle my nose—“ the disgusting smells?”
He starts to urinate out of fear, and I jump to my feet, slashing my blade down on his cock for that. More than half of it drops to the ground with a squirt of piss and blood, and he tries to scream but Gray tightens his hand around the man's mouth. I quickly glance around us, satisfied that there seems to be no one around before I continue. The man is a bloody mess with only a little piece of dangling skin hanging between his legs. I look him in his eyes; he seems to be drifting in and out of consciousness now.
“Hey, look at me,” I demand. He tries to, so I decide to make it easier for him. I smile as I stab my blade upwards and into his balls. Yep, he's definitely looking now, wide-eyed until they roll back as he passes out from the pain. His legs give out but Gray keeps him held up for me to play with.
“Lift his head up for me, darling,” I ask Gray and he does, exposing the man’s neck for me as I slice, damaging his vocal cords so he can’t make another sound. He jolts awake during the cutting, and Gray drops him to the floor. The man has one hand to his throat and one hand trying to cup what's left of his crotch. I sit myself down on the opposite wall, contently watching him suffer. Gray sits next to me, and we look at each other before our focus is stolen by the man bleeding out. Eventually, his soul appears and floats towards my outstretched hand. I curse at it and let my pendant absorb it.
I take a deep breath in and calm myself; I hate women being touched like that, being treated like that. My blood instantly boils. I think of my girls at De-Vil’s: Sparrow and her beater, Sirena and the guard. Now this woman who got raped and stabbed in the alley. I hope she finds peace. I look at Gray andhis eyes are back to normal. He stays silent, letting me calm my thoughts in my own time.
Evening is drawing in now and the streets seem to get busier. Gray leads the way as we meander our way back toward the Tower green, still a fair distance away. We wind up on one of the main thoroughfares through the district. As we dally along the sidewalks, watching people as they pass us and carriages doing the same, we both spot the Royal Carriage parked a little way up ahead. We cross the street and put a little distance between us and it but remain near enough to the carriage to take a peek as we pass by. I can’t hear what’s being said by the group of men we see there, Richard in the centre, but Gray cocks his head. He whispers to me, “He’s asking about the stabbing victim we found. He’s diligent in his business, this Royal Investigator.”
I nod and we continue on, heading toward the Tower and making our way to Borough Market. It’s a pretty brisk walk, and he’s gotmuchlonger legs than mine, so I wind up somewhat out of breath, but Gray, of course, is fine, not even slightly winded. I smirk inwardly; of course a death god doesn’t get out of breath.
We reach the market and slip into the crowds, listening to the raucous sounds of London’s busiest market in the early evening.
‘Thief!’
‘Get him!’
‘He went towards the Woodcutters shop!’
‘After him!’
I look to see what is going on, only to see a small child running in between people and ducking his way out of the crowd of hands trying to grab him. Poor kid. Probably hungry.
“Come, let’s go get a drink.” Gray’s voice distracts me from watching the kid run away and I look back to him, taking in the little smirk on his face.
“Lead the way.” I bow and open an arm for him to walk past me. He laughs and walks ahead, leading me to a tavern. Heenters, holding the door open for me and moves to order drinks at the bar while I find a nice spot in the quietest corner for us to sit.
Is this a date?
The tavern is busy tonight. Men place bets and yell at one another and no one seems to have noticed us entering. Good. Gray brings over two drinks: a whiskey on the rocks for me and something black on rocks for himself.
“What is that?” I ask.
“Rum.” He picks up his drink, gesturing towards me. I lift my own, and we clink our glasses together. It baffles me that we can touch our glasses, but that I can’t touch him. Just sitting here with him, drinks to hand, a cosy corner of a tavern, is amazing, tantalising. There are candles on every table, the sun is setting and I just want to place my head on Gray’s shoulders.
He read my thoughts. “Soon, my love. Soon.”
“But how soon? You keep saying this and I'm tired of waiting, Gray. I need you. I find it hard to think of anything else. I crave your touch more than to bring death with my blade. My chest feels tight when we get close and I know I can’t touch you. That’s all I want now. Please, touch me.” Yet again, I find myself almost begging. He sighs and puts his drink down, not having taken a sip of it. I down mine in one go, needing the burn. He turns to me and we look at each other's eyes, lips, nose, everything. I can see how badly he wants to touch me, too. He leans in, his face so close to mine, and moves his nose to touch mine.
And I feel it.
I gasp and I pull back to look at him.
“What? How? I felt you!” I squeak out. Gray gives me a little chuckle, his eyes shining gold. Lust.
“You’ve taken a couple of souls today. It’s creating a stronger bond for us. I told you, my Evelyn,soon.” I open my mouth tospeak but a fight breaks out with all the men at the other side of the tavern.
‘Dirty scumbag, fuckin’ cheater!’
‘I won that fair and square, old man!’
‘Take it outside lads!’
