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“That’s what people say when they want to do something terrible, or when they are defending something plainly awful,” Emrys replies. “They appeal to some kind of ephemeral sense that exists outside the obvious, as if the one they were talking to would surely understand their evil if only they knew some extra little fact that makes their depravity acceptable. My kind slaughters the innocent regularly. But we do not have the nerve to expect their gratitude in response. And we certainly do not raise the young of our prey only to turn on them.”
“She committed crime after crime,” Sheriff says. “She brought shame to our family. She needs to face justice. She killed someone in the course of fleeing. She is dangerous, Emrys. She is not a safe creature to have around.”
“That is fortunate,” Emrys says, snugging me close. “I do not want a safe creature. I cannot imagine anything more tedious. You can abandon your hunt here, Sheriff. It is over. She is mine.”
“I can’t allow that. I will not be forgiven until I return with her head, or until it is taken before the hall of justice.”
Emrys runs his fingertips down the nape of my neck, over my shoulders, and down my spine in a soothing gesture. He senses the tension in me and moves immediately to defuse it. So much of what Emrys communicates is done without words. If only Sheriff was smart enough to read the room. There is danger here, but it is not coming from me.
“Surrender your need for revenge, Sheriff. Go back to your world or don’t. I don’t care. I can tell you that if you continue to have even the thought of so much as harming the smallest hair on the least important part of her body, you will be destroyed in the most creative and cruel way I can come up with. In fact, it will not be my ideas alone that you will suffer. I will open the floor to the court, and they will each have their turn with you.”
In some credit to his bravery, Sheriff manages not to shudder at the threat, which is given with deliciously malevolent tones that make it very clear Emrys would enjoy his destruction.
“Justice will not be intimidated,” Sheriff says.
“You’re an incredibly stupid creature, aren’t you,” Emrys says. He is not angry. There is not even judgement in his tone. There’s just a straight up incredulous note in his voice, as if he cannot believe the number of warnings he is giving, and how many of them Sheriff is blowing through.
“If you will not allow me to take her, then I will have to perform a rogue form of justice. It is not my preference, but I cannot risk losing this chance. It may be my last.”
He draws a weapon that he must have hidden down the back of his pants, probably in the crack of his ass.
“ARGGHGH!”
Before Emrys can react, a scream in the semi-distance draws everybody’s attention. It’s the sort of blood-curdling cry of desperation and fear that can only come from one source. The screaming gets closer very swiftly and parts of it come through the door. The other parts of what come through the door also come through Sheriff.
Atlas appears in a flurry of blades and fury.
He is so large he takes out much of the doorway as he comes through, chunks of rock and plaster flying along with spurts of blue blood as he cuts through various parts of Sheriff.
I watch as the man who saved me, then hunted me throughout the universe, is blended in an open air blender. Bits of him fly everywhere as he becomes little more than a hot spray and a wet aftermath.
Am I horrified?
I would have been before Emrys and his sacrifice. Now I am something else. Something that concerns me deeply.
I am hungry.
I reach for a handful of Sheriff. I don’t know what I’m getting. Something meaty and bloody. Who knows what part of him it is. I stuff it into my mouth with the same instinct a baby shoves any given object into its face. My instincts demand it.
“Easy… easy…”
Emrys does the same thing dog owners do when their puppy gets into something it shouldn’t, pushing his fingers into my mouth and popping out what turns out to be a hunk of shattered bone.
In the aftermath of the quickest resolution to the longest episode of lethal trouble in my life, Aristo comes rushing in while Emrys does his best to stop me from consuming more bits of ex-dad. I am so fiercely hungry. There’s something about the smell of blood that is driving me absolutely wild.
Aristo enters the room far too late to help, but just in time to look appalled and horrified at the scene he finds. For a valker to be concerned at the sight of blood and gore is quite a rarity, given their penchant for rampant destruction and wanton cruelty. Perhaps he’s not actually surprised. Maybe he’s shocked at the scythkin’s artistry.
“I’m sorry, my liege. We attempted to stop the scythkin, but there is no meaningful way to do so. He’s very… sharp.”
“It’s alright. He did us all a favor,” Emrys says.
“Sorry,” Atlas says. Blood drips from the tips of his spikes and blades. “I heard what he was saying, and I may have somewhat lost control.”
“Not at all, friend. You’ve saved us all a great deal of… no, human girl. No. You’re not ready to eat raw flesh as yet. It will give you the worst stomachache of your life.”
Emrys once again deprives me of what I’ve decided is food, firmly pulling me away from the bulk of the carcass which I had managed to drag toward me while everyone else was talking. I want to eat. I want to devour big, thick chunks of freshly killed meat. I want to eat the cruelty of the numahn who raised me and betrayed me. It would nourish me. I would have revenge. I would be free of all the pain and torment he put me through all the years I ran from him. All the desperate things I did to avoid him. If I eat him, it will be like they never happened.
“Stop it this instant!” Emrys’ tone goes cold as he starts to lose patience with my disobedience. “I have told you, you are not ready.”
