His Stoic Mask, Her Bleeding Heart

Chapter 17: Death or Insanity?

The door banged against the wall as Elyria stormed into Matthias' residence, the sound echoing endlessly through the massive hall. It died away to leave only the clicking of her stiletto heels on the tile, and Kai and I followed her toward the stairs. Her stride was confident, cold, aggressive – everything I remembered so distinctly from the way she was before. The werewolf and I couldn't hope to match it, just her two little shadows, snaking along behind her.

"Do you think this is going to end well?" Kai rumbled to me as Elyria took two stairs at a time, his eyes on the bouncing hem of her skirt. I was suddenly very glad I'd had some clothes to lend him; there was no telling what could've been going on in his pants at that moment.

Or maybe I wasn't so glad. Those were my pants.

"For us? Yes. For Kyrianna? Who knows," I answered, my eyes drifting to the girl's back as she picked her way through the piles of dust that still littered the floor. A crowd of vampires waited for her at the end of the hall, the remnants of the afternoon's battle, and no matter how they bared their fangs or licked their lips or smirked their dangerous smirks, she wouldn't slow, wouldn't hesitate.

The sea of bloodsuckers parted gradually, but still, her stride never slowed. In the end, only one vampire remained, a man who leered down at her as if he were issuing a challenge. Naturally, she accepted, knocking him to the floor with a strike of the back of her hand that was so swift the vampire never stood a chance. I wondered if her eyes were red, if the monster was making its return, but when she glanced back at us over her shoulder, her irises were as amethyst as ever. She was just her – brutal, elegant, and strong.

"Hurry up," she said, nothing to her tone to suggest any kind of strain or frustration. "We don't have time to play with the trash right now." And then, she was gone, rounding the corner with a swish of her royal purple skirt.

When we finally caught up to her, she was ascending the stairs to Matthias' quarters with quick, deliberate steps. I wondered why we'd tried to take the vampires out on our own, me and Kai. I wondered why I'd ever thought that I could do better than Elyria. This was her world, and I knew that. But part of me still rebelled against the notion. Why did it have to be her? Why did it always have to be her?

"Be careful," I murmured to the girl as we neared the top, and I saw her give a single sharp nod before she pushed the door open and emerged into the dim light of the bedroom.

"Ah, Elyria," Matthias said cheerfully, and the sight of him turned my stomach. Kyrianna was there, still in her bed clothes, her hands and feet bound and her mouth covered – perched upon the sick bastard's lap like some kind of doll. "Nice of you to finally join us. I've been waiting for you ever since your friends decided to burst in here this afternoon."

"Give her back," Elyria said sharply, stopping a foot away from where the man sat on the edge of the bed. If she'd reached out, she could've touched Kyrianna; I saw her fingers flexing as if she longed to do just that.

"Why ever would I do that?" the man retorted innocently, a hand gently patting Kyrianna's bare thigh. She cringed, and while I didn't particularly like her, I certainly felt for her in that moment. "You practically trashed our agreement by sending your friends here to attempt to destroy me. I've decided to take this little sweetheart as payment. Really, you should just be glad I didn't decide on something worse."

Elyria took a small step forward, her hands balling into fists so tightly that her silvery knuckles turned bone-white beneath their metallic sheen. "Give. Her. Back." Her voice was low, her tone threatening, her words slow and carefully spoken. I knew that voice; I knew what would come if he refused. But he only smiled and laughed lightly, acting as if she'd just told him the most innocent joke in the world.