Another's Demise

Beneath the Boot

Alara

Mel stood with a flame in her eyes, sharp smile, and wicked accuracy as she shot again. The bullet whistled through the air, grazing Laurier's cheek bone. His face, twisted, with cruelty as he stormed forward, with deadly intent.

"Oh I don't think so," a familiar voice echoed through the forest, and like a shadow Leo materialised behind Laurier, gripping him tightly before kicking him to his knees.

Cameron sorted out the rest of the Bloodhounds, easy too easy.

They wouldn't have come alone.

"Isn't this lovely,?" Leo snarled, "The real bitch on his knees. Touch my fiancé again and you won't see the light of day."

Leo's anger was palpable as he wrenched Dane's head by his hair, so his eyes were locked with the crystal blue that would not hesitate to drown, "And if you hurt Alara,d you will have hell to pay."

Laurier had not ounce of self-preservation, as he grinned, a live thing that sprawled across his features in a daunting grin, "It's not me that will get her."

His eyes glinted as they locked with Cameron, his figure still, a deathly quietness about him. Looming, watching, prowling like the monster so many believed him to be.

I watched breath stuck in my throat, but not in the way it had before, when I had first been exposed to the violence of the world. It was a hitch of anticipation, I wanted Laurier to hurt.

I wanted him to be punished for everything he had done to me.

And it was a terrible curling feeling that I should have stamped out, but I let it fester. As I watched, the scene unfold I heard the crackle of leaves, alert, I spun on my heel tearing my gaze from Cameron and Mel and Leo, only to see a shadow in the trees, stalking forward, fast, faster than anything.

I raised my gun, finger never making it to the trigger as it was knocked out of my hands by a cane.

The sharp pull of metal slammed against my cheek, a burning sensation, thick blood pooling from the gash.

I did not even need to see him to know who it was.

The leader of the Duplicitous, Cameron's father.

"How's your leg?" I chided, launching forward, to reach my gun, only to be slammed to the ground with a pointed boot.

"Better," he drawled, pressing me to the ground with the pressure of his shoe, I heaved, mud clinging to my cheek, and festering into the open wound he had given me.

My breath hesitated, before I threw another taunt, "So incapable that you needed this many men to come after a single woman," his eyes curved towards his son, not knowing the presence of his father, too enthralled by how he would make his enemy pay. Too consumed with rage, and I saw it all once more, the lack of hesitation, the gun that shot through Damon Mortello, but me as well, in an echo that festered in my mind.

"You are never alone Alara Torres, but I will make sure he will be," he craned his neck, his boot moving to the base of my throat, I thrashed against him, my nails digging into his trousers, trying to grip anything to give me a modicum of leverage.

The scream was lodged in my throat, as the boot pressed firmly against my windpipe, "You won't find the diamond,"

"A blood source," he mused, "I only need you to be alive, not conscious," And I felt my vision swimming, my legs not able to push myself from the ground, my hands went to wrap around his ankle, but his cane slashed at my wrist, cutting a groove so deep blood began to pool from it.

"Cameron," I gasped with my final breath, it was hoarse, quiet and not the reason he turned, he turned even though he did not hear me, because he knew I was there.

The rage did not consume him this time, he was not too enthralled in his hatred for Laurier to forget me.

His eyes snapped to his father, and the bullet that pierced the air was precise, landing firmly in the leg that suffocated me.

His father stumbled, but kept his stance, I was quick to make it to my feet, heaving in lung-fulls of precious air, it burnt down my throat, as sticky tears dried on my cheeks.

I felt the blood ooze from my wound, light headed, and swaying, but my gun was now firmly back in my hand, snagged on my way up to my feet.

My fingers shook, I couldn't aim but my gun rested on Cameron's father.

"I'll kill you," it should have been me that let those words fall, but it was Cameron.

Son against father, as he stormed forward, fists raised, and shattering the jaw of his father, blood seeped from his nose, but Cameron did not stop, throw after throw, punch after punch, it was only Leo's hand that stopped him.

"He's gone," for a moment I thought he meant Cameron had killed him, but as he heaved and let out a guttural scream, I still observed the slight rise and fall of Carlisle Grayson's chest, alive, but barely.

"Cam, he's out. He's out and he's not going to do shit to Alara."

He turned, unshed moisture coating his eyes, as he stared at me.

I did not flinch, did not move when he wrapped his arms around me, I did not wince at the thick scent of blood, all I did was hold him, in arms that had begged for his embrace.

"Darling,"

"I'm here."