~ KINLEY ~
"Let her go." Neziri presses the point of Tristan's discarded sword to the back of his neck, where spine meets cranium. The silver-ebony steel infused with the purple flames of her life force once again.
'I—lud-dub, lud-dub—still beat for—lud-dub-lud-dub-lud—you.' My faltering heartbeat keeps intertwining with Tristan's words. Over and over, they replay, resounding through me as if my body is a cavernous well Tristan cast them in to.
The longer Thron's thirteen son holds onto me, the more difficult it is to tell which beating vessel is mine and which is coming from Tristan. They run in tandem, amplifying each other until it seems there is but one beat and it goes:
Lud-dub, lud-dub, luddd-dub
Lud-dub, lud dub, lud-duuub
But the repeating pattern cuts off on the fourth course right before the last dub. A stammering beat that keeps misfiring. I've heard this melody before.
"Two hundred eevie are waiting outside. You're outnumbered, beast. Release Kinaley or we will set upon you and all that will be left is your shredded armor."
Whish
Splat
Drip, drip, drip.
"You broke my nose."
Fresh glowing lavender seeps out from the cracks of my sister's fingers, Tristan having gripped onto the blade of his sword and thrust the hilt into a bone-crunching shot.
"What you fail to understand is I don't need my sword to disperse you into petals that play in the red misted breeze." Tristan lifts Neziri by her face, her feet dangling several feet above the same mists she could easily be a part of. "And with my sword"—Tristan doubles down his brutal clutch of her bloodied cheeks—"I could decimate this entire island without calling upon my sanctums. You're alive because your deaths would bring me no satisfaction. Keep the gloves though. One day you may need them."
"You blood-bellied, black tick." Neziri spits at Tristan, her face scrunching in the continued tightening of his hold.
"Drop her, Tristan. Release my sister." I bang on his back.
"It's time for baby thorne to sit this one out. Interrupt me again, and next time I won't miss." Tristan tosses Neziri into the line of eevie standing by.
His dark eyes follow the grooved channel that runs the length of his sword until they meet with two much smaller hands struggling to balance such a weighted hunk of lethal steel.
"I don't care what kind of monster you profess to be. I'm not letting you walk out of this museum." My knuckles turn white as I clench the hilt spackled with my sister's illuminated blood. "You belong in the hellmouth. It should be you who's the red mist, not my sister, not the others. You!" I yell.
"Drop the sword, Kinaley. Drop it right this very second," my sister shouts as the eevie hold her back.
My skin jumps when armored knees hit the floor, shy of missing my toes.
"I'll lay down my life for you a thousand times. At your feet. At your heart. At your next words." Tristan peels the shredded valderan armor off his shoulders, his skin a mixture of red, black, and pale patches.
"I will not fall for your tricks, vampire. Get off your knees and face me. Face me!"
"Save your sisters and the balance. I will accept my death a second time if it is by the hand which called me here." He discards the torn armor behind him.
YOU ARE READING
DOFAB#3
Paranormal~ Kinley ~ In the world before, the balance fell. Some say it's because the war between the two sisters of the afterlife got out of hand. Others aren't believers. But I know the truth. The world fell because of a beast, the same beast my sister has...
