Page 38 of The Price Of Possession

It's the only kindness he has ever shown me, and somehow right now, it's enough. His jade eyes burn with an august gloom. “Stay,” he commands, slowly releasing me. I'm not sure what has me listening, but I don't dare retreat. My feet sweep me backward against the wall. At this moment, Kieran is all I have to escape this hell.

“I’m nothing like you or your miserable existence,” Kieran grits, stalking forward. Zain appears beside me. His fists are ripe with contusions and hematic staining. He deposits Vesper next to me. She, too, has sobered from whatever drugs she was likely given. I have to pray she wasn't used. Zain approaches Kieran, flanking his side. Mortensen's face flashes with resentment. It's at that moment I see Kieran in a different light. Mortensen's blood stained teeth offer a sinister smile. He spits blood onto the floor as his eyes drift over all of us. His movements slow to a deliberate predatory pace. He is trying to instill fear, and it's working. Not on Kieran, though. He slinks around Kieran.

“You are as brutal, savage, and morally corrupt as me. It is because I made you so! She was merely a pawn.” His devilish eyes fall to me. “It's because she looks just. like. her, isn't it?” His words carry the weight of something more deleterious. Kieran's face pales, eroding away the cocky attitude I've grown accustomed to. Something fizzles in the pit of my stomach. I'm going to be sick.

My heartbeat pulses in my ears. The fucker is going for a low blow. The one thing he enjoys is getting a reaction out of me. I'm losing my head again. He knows it. He wants to sabotage our plan. He suspects I want to bring him down but has no proof. These slow calculated games are tests, and I refuse to fail.

Even though playing the part is becoming increasingly difficult. He wants me to break. He knows watching Clara getting fucked would send me into a spiral. He was correct. Why he wanted Vesper, I don't fucking know, but I'm gonna find out. He wants to show that I'm weak and untrustworthy to the Void just to watch if I'll sink or swim. My outburst doesn't help matters. He's waiting for me to slip up.

“Fuck you,” I growl. He scoffs, eyeing me. The entirety of the Void has eyes on us.

“I have something you will want to know.” He ushers us towards his office. My teeth grind together, knowing whatever it is is going to test my limits. He nods toward Zain and the girls. “Bring them with you.”

I weigh my options. Mortensen is cold and calculated. I don't trust him, but I trust these Elites less. We file into his office. The girls are reluctant, but blindly follow because there is no other means of escape for them. Just like at home. Solid wood bookshelves line the walls. Mahogany and cherry carved wood furniture. Wooden beams line the ceiling above us. I shrug off my jacket at the same time as Zain.

We cover the girls' nudity. Something strange tugs on my insides. It's a wordless gesture, nothing more. The girls refuse to sit on the leather sofa, choosing to instead linger in the doorway. I don't blame them. This lifestyle sure as hell isn't for the faint of heart. Once you've grown accustomed, you grow immune.

Mortensen plucks a handkerchief from his pocket to dab the dried blood caked along his jawline. His eyes harden at Zain.

Zain's contemptible look burns into Mortensen. He decides to stay perched by the exit in case shit goes down. Smart man. Always a step ahead. Let's hope we're two steps ahead of Mortensen.

I cross my arms over my chest. “What the fuck? You're an instigating piece of shit, you know that?” I start going hard. Probably not the best choice of words, but I can't help myself. He neatly adjusts his vest, clutching his pocket watch as if I didn't just insult him.

I suppose to a sick fucker like him, that’s a compliment.

He takes a seat behind his desk with a wicked grin, settling into his high-back chair. “How do you think I kept the power? It’s not by weakness,” he muses. He clicks his tongue, his face wrinkling with mirth.

“Do you remember her? Hmm?” He drills me. I know he's talking about the blonde woman. How the fuck could I forget? She's terrorized my thoughts for too long. I clamp down on my tongue ring to prevent myself from saying some stupid shit.

He rests his hands on the desk. “I suppose you do. It’s difficult to forget your first time.” I recoil in disgust at his words. My first time. I forced her. I hurt her. I took her without remorse like a savage. A mistake that led the way to who I am now and what I need to function.

“Did you know, the blonde was your sister? Her name was Isolde.” he says calmly as if he isn't delivering a devastating blow.

His words seize my entire system. Don't slip, Kieran. Don't take

the bait. He's a liar.

“What the fuck?” The words crack on my tongue. I shake my head. My neck snaps to Zain. His mouth falls open, a shocking look of bewilderment written on his face. The girls exchanged glances, probably wondering how they're involved in any of this shit. Guess they're along for the ride. “I never had a sister. Mom only had me. You're a lying sack of shit!” I shout, my eyes narrowing. I slam my fist on his desk jostling it. He rounds the desk to approach me. The look in his eyes offers truth, something he rarely shows. “Oh, she did only have you. Unfortunately.” he sneers, hinting at the disappointment I've always been.

Never been good enough. His desire for a perfect son never ended. When he realized I wouldn't be malleable, he resorted to violence and psychological abuse. Even then I rebelled. His voice sours. “Though, that didn’t stop me from fucking the girls inside the Void. The perks of being a Grimshaw. My mistake was not forcing the slut to abort the child sooner. Your mother was livid when she found out I knocked up one of the whores, but she knew the life she got into when we married. Monogamy is beneath me. She wanted a simple life. Deplorable,” he hisses.

My head whirls. Anger radiates from my skin. “Are you telling me . . . I fucked my sister? My half-sister?” My voice grows increasingly loud with each syllable. I take a step closer. I'm on the verge of punching his face in. Fuck the plan.

Actually. New Goddamn plan. Kill Mortensen. NOW. I no longer want to dethrone him and watch him crumble while his world falls to ash. Fuck it, I want to watch his blood seep from his skin until he admits he's a fucked up father.

His blood stained mouth widens. “How fitting really. Your initiation. Your first sexual encounter. Robbed from you. How else do you mold leaders into the hierarchy? I needed her ruined and destitute of all hope. My son, you delivered. All the way up until the very moment you killed her. I'm impressed.” He showcases a toothy grin.

My breathing bottoms out. I feel fucking nauseous. I thought I only choked her out, not killed her. This is where I lose my shit. Before I can react, Zain surges forward to hold me back, but despite being a massive dude, I'm bigger. My fist connects to Mortensen's face before he wrangles me back. “What the fuck, you piece of shit! I fucking killed her?”

Zain's hands on my shoulders sear into my skin. He gargles. Blood seeps from his mouth, “Not directly,” he smooths out. He dodges my blows. “Who was her mother?!” I roar, needing some answers before I completely go mental. Zain manages to restrain me. I demand blood. My body trembles with adrenaline. Mortensen's gaze flickers to Vesper. He staggers backward, righting himself against his desk. A few loose pens scatter along the desktop calendar.

“Emma Riley,” he says slowly. His eyes skitter back to Vesper and Zain.

Oh, fuck.

Zain freezes. Vesper stills. Clara's face drops.

“She was an offering here. Another useless drugged out woman. They're a dime a dozen. When I was your age, I too, chased the high of sex. Pussy is powerful. Don’t let them manipulate you.” The pounding in my ears grows louder. His words send a wave of bile in my throat. To think we have any similarities at all is laughable.