Kill Me Softly

Chapter Five

My back slams against the rough bark of a tree and the air whooshes out of my lungs. Ryder's body moves flush with mine with one hand on my waist and the other holding a blade to my throat.

"Dead again, darlin'," he smirks, taking some of the pressure away from the blade but not removing it from my throat.

My breaths are heavy and laboured and my eyes are full of frustration. I know I can do this. There's just something holding me back. It's like my body remembers what to do but my mind won't let it. How could I go from killing three shapeshifters by myself to not being able to last three minutes with Ryder? The incubi is good, very good, but I used to be his match -his equal in every way. What happened to me?

Angry at myself, I shove Ryder away from me, growling "again." I feel a drop of blood trickle down my neck from where Ryder held his blade and wipe it away, pissed at myself for letting him get close enough to hurt me. I'm better than this.

Reading my expression, Ryder says, "you're angry. Good. Use it, but don't let it blind you." He begins to circle me, twirling the dagger in his large hand. I watch him and he watches me, analyzing my every move with with calm blue eyes. His voice is soft, low, firm, as he says, "you're holding back. Darlin', you need to let go of whatever it is you're afraid will happen and give into your instincts. Your body knows what to do. Let it."

I watch as his muscles tense, his expression not shifting in the slightest. The dagger that was once held firmly in his fist now flies from his fingertips. End over end it soars through the air in a blink of an eye. There's no time to think, no time to breathe, so I just do.

My hand darts up, blindly catching the dagger by its hilt. It stops dead in it's wicked path a mere inch from my face. The sinister point of the blade gleams before my startled eyes.

"See?" Ryder says as I bring the dagger away from my face with a shaking hand. "You do much better when you don't think so much."

As much as I want to, I don't yell, "you could have killed me!" As pissed as I am, I know that he doesn't have any other option. He doesn't have the time to baby me through this. With a two week deadline, I either take whatever Ryder throws at me and learn from it or I don't and face Octavian and my parents unprepared. To be unprepared would be a mistake.

As if acknowledging my thoughts, Ryder pulls out another blade, identical to the one gripped loosely in my hand. He circles me confidently, like he already knows my next move and has anticipated the six moves after that. He thinks he's so smart. He thinks he has me bent to his will, but he's wrong.

I will go with him to Grimm Haven, like I've promised, but it will not be to serve our parents and be the weapon I was born to be. No, when I go to Grimm Haven, it will be to end my parents' reign of terror or die trying.

My destiny became clear after I saw the blood spattered on Ryder's shirt. That night, I laid in bed and thought about whose blood that was -wondered what poor soul had the displeasure of coming face to face with Ryder. I knew that I had to do something. I couldn't let someone else be reduced to a blood stain on a shirt. So, I made a plan.

Tonight, when Ryder leaves for another one of his "jobs", I'll follow him. I'll wait and watch and I'll save the next person Ryder is tasked to kill.

A coy smirk catches my attention. "What are you thinking about so hard?" Ryder asks mockingly, twirling the dagger around in his hand again. Show off.

I force a defiant smirk. "How good it's going to feel to kick your ass." How good it's going to feel when I destroy you and that vile father of yours.