Love Sucks

What She Wants - Chapter Fourteen

"...as long as nothing happens between them, the memory is cursed with what hasn't happened."

Marguerite Duras, Blue Eyes, Black Hair

***

The young and relentless Mercy Harrow was lovely, and how she knew this too.

She knew that before she entered the opaque hallways of this building; an empty and crude display of housing. She knew of her beauty before she had openly agreed to participate in the favors her Grandfather asked for.

But what Mercy wanted did not include her looks.

What Mercy longed for - killed for - was her impeccable need to be dominant; of her race, her family, and her cousin.

There was nothing wrong for two members of a family to be wedded; to love. Mercy felt this in a full, frothy passion, as she angrily stomped through stoned corridors, towards the ending set of doors. That was where she would find him - Lucifer.

Oh, his letter had been so vague. Yet, the words he'd spoken were the truth.

They were the right path to follow; and Mercy knew deep in her being, that she wanted the woman dead. Abigail Worthington, a girl who had yet to realise her family lineage; had yet to see what she was doing to Nathaniel.

And how yielding he was, so soft, that he had yet to know what he wanted.

And what he wanted was she; Mercy. And her desire was a rapid growing wall that blocked out anything else of reason.

Mercy would have him; and with the help of Grandfather, it would be determined. They were meant to be together (or so Mercy has deluded herself into thinking), and once they were together, it would be forever.

She was meant to be his, and he hers; there was nothing wrong with their love.

Her choppy heels had finally reached the doors leading to the nightly terrace.

Outside, the wind had picked up and clouds tufted over the slitted moon, like a blanket of cotton, covering a turned cheek.

"Mercy. You are late." Lucifer's voice was dead; a monotone of terror.

"I am sorry, Grandfather. But I come and go as I please, you should know this." She remarked, keeping her own tone smooth and resourceful. Mercy had yet to weigh the options, and he was supposed to set in front of her deal. A legitimate offer, that if she accepted, would change everything. Change was for the better of her people, and her Nathaniel, and being Mercy - needing to have a steady hand in this change - she would push the knife all the way into the wound.

"Very well. You got my letter, I presume?"

Mercy nodded, though he couldn't see her head move, Lucifer still somehow knew the answer to his question, and this was just small-talk.

"You know what I plan on presenting you with, then?" All formalities had passed, and now the man sounded to be in an urgent state of anger.

Mercy nodded again, and this time, Lucifer spun around. If she had suspected rage in him before, her assumptions were rejected; he looked impossibly serene; calm.

"Good girl. I feel as if the Council has reached its brink in patience with the revolting amongst our race; you have witnessed such, I'm to guess?"

Mercy, her face a mimicking mask of Lucifer's smiled, a haunting and unattractive addition to her perfect features.

"Yes, Grandfather."

"Do as I say, Child, and the world will never fail you. Do as I say and you might live through the revolution."