Page 17 of Little Mate
“Fuck!” There’s a resounding crack that makes even Josephine flinch, but I don’t pause then either as the bones of his hand are crushed. Each cry from his mouth only serves to further anger me. Each begging plea from his mother’s stare makes me prolong the inevitable.
The limb rips, the skin stretching until it can’t take it anymore, and then I let go, letting the hand dangle—holding on by a one-inch piece of flesh still connected to the arm. It’s a bit grotesque. Very tempting to drink from, and yet, I simply hold it up for his family to watch.
It spurts at first, the red spraying the floor near his mother’s foot and she shrinks back, her sobs loud while the others look on with sick expressions.
“I’ll talk!” This comes from the couple, and I look over to find the male’s eyes on me. He’s sweating, face a little pallid at the proof of what I’m capable of, and yet, this is nowhere near my worst. “Please, just let the women go. I’ll tell you what I know.”
“Were you involved?”
“No, but he told me things.”
“Don’t you dare!” Once again, it’s his mother’s threatening words that fill the room.
I’ve had enough of her.
A quick, sharp whistle rends the air that comes from me, and another entity enters the room. His body slithers along the floor, head held high while everyone else freezes. Even Rodej and his wife aren’t completely at ease with the shifter, but they have no say in the matter.
He and his sister have earned my trust.
Are loyal.
The albino python tilts its head, his forked tongue coming out to scent the air.
“What is this…?” the brother-in-law asks, pulling his wife in a little closer. His eyes shifted between the beast and his sister, worried for her and the child’s safety.
“The woman and child have ten seconds to leave.” At my command, Tomasso’s wife exits without looking back at the man bleeding in my hold, while the other woman tries to argue with her husband, but that lasts as long as it takes for my snake to move closer to the pair.
One stretch of its mouth and he pushes her out the room, the move blocking anyone else from leaving. Not that Tomasso or his mother can move. The two are frozen where they’re being held, shivering while watching the creature languidly stretch and then lower himself flat to the ground.
Not coiled. Not poised to strike.
He’s waiting.
“What’s your name?” I ask the brother-in-law.
“Nicolo.”
“Well, Nicolo, you’ve got my attention and I’ve granted your request. Speak.” He swallows hard, his eyes flicking from me to the snake and back again. This also takes longer than it should, something the python gets annoyed by, and in a move Nicolo couldn’t predict, it strikes, giving him a warning bite on his leg. Not cutting, but it’s enough that the man stumbles back, falling on his ass. “The next one won’t be as gentle.”
“Tomaso wants the Wiccan crown, believes his family is owed it—”
“Under what claim?” I ask the man bleeding in my hold.
“Before that bastard was born, it was my husband’s compensation to take the crown as Moore’s right hand! We dedicated our lives, put our goals on hold, and what did we get in exchange?”
“Your husband was never in line for the crown.” My hold on her son tightens, and the choking sound—his panic over not being able to get air into his lungs—fills her with renewed rage. “Paolo has a brother and a son, the latter of which is the rightful heir. You have nothing. No claim.”
“And all those years served! What about us!”
A low snarl comes from Rodej, and I turn to find his eyes glowing red. His anger and disgust are palpable. “It’s a privilege to serve the crown. Any member of the court or guard is proud to do so, and that is what we get—we are honored to keep our people safe and thriving.”
She scoffs at that, and I snap the fingers of my unoccupied hand once.
This old woman, a bitter witch, is the reason so many will die. Her greed is why her offspring will witness her last breath a few minutes before following the same fate. They are the epitome of delusional meets blind; she fed him bullshit, and he destroyed them all for a lie with no basis of truth.
Because most lies do hold an element or two of reality, distorted as it may be. The problem here is that even if Moore had no son, his brother would’ve been the next in line. Why not his daughters?
However, there is more to this story.