A Girl Named Calamity by Danielle Lori
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
THE ICY RIVER OF BLOODLUST
When I would paint as a child, I’d take my paintbrush and splatter the colors on the paper. I called it art. The blood being spilled reminded me of those childhood memories.
Though, the only art about this scene was the way Weston fought: ducking, weaving, disappearing, stabbing. He handled the six Mages with ease. None of them even had the chance to look my way.
My heartbeat sped up dangerously, and I itched to see them die. I wanted to watch their blood flow onto the ground. I wanted to kill them myself. I wanted more blood. A malicious smile was in place internally. I paused, taking a deep breath and realized that Weston must be feeling this because this wasn’t me at all.
By the time I sighed in relief from recognizing the feelings weren’t mine, there were six dead Mages on the ground. Weston stood in the middle of them with his chest moving deeply. Blood splattered his arms up to his biceps. And I realized he was art.
From his body to the blood covering him to the bloodlust in his eyes.
He walked toward me in short, stalking steps with dark eyes. My breaths were shaky as I took a step back.
“Do you think I am some kind of saint?” His voice was hard and rough as he continued to walk toward me, a bloody dagger in his fist. Hazy feelings swirled around inside me, and I knew they belonged to him, but the uneasy knots in my stomach had me backing up as he got closer.
A saint? My laugh was edgy. “I’ve never thought that for a second.”
“Then why do you think you can get away with taunting me?”
“I don’t.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me.”
I almost flinched from his harsh tone, and was filled with confusion at his sudden mood change until I realized this must be the bloodlust talking.
“Were you looking for a reaction out of me?” Weston asked as he took another slow step forward. I was quiet as I didn’t think I could form words as his angry presence clung to the air, suffocating me.
Another step. I took one back.
“Is that what you wanted?”
I knew he was talking about the incident on the beach. I should have never taunted him like that. I didn’t even know why I had. And now it had gotten me into a mess. Instead of an ordinary storm that I had grown to like, this was a hurricane. One I had never dealt with before, and it had my heart pounding with uncertainty.
“Silence, huh? Regretting what you’ve done now?” he asked.
Another step. I took another one back.
“Why do you think I turned around?” he asked roughly. I wasn’t sure of anything right now. I couldn’t even think with a bloody assassin walking towards me like I was his next victim.
My back hit the rough bark of a tree while he was only steps from reaching me.
“Why did I do it, Calamity?” His calm voice had nervousness fluttering in my stomach, and I could only slowly shake my head.
“Because the second I saw your wet, naked body, you wouldn’t be a virgin anymore.”
I swallowed hard as he threw the knife in his hand to the side. The motion had me glancing at the blood covering his arms and then at the six dead men behind him; what he was capable of not lost on me, and all my bravery drifted away with the sea breeze.
“It would have been inevitable. I wouldn’t have cared whether you wanted it or not.”
I didn’t believe that. But I barely got a chance to think about it before his body was inches from touching mine as he put his hands above my head and boxed me in against the tree. I stared off into the distance, not able to look him in the eyes. The moment was too intense, and eye contact would only magnify it to an uncomfortable degree.
He leaned into me until I felt his lips graze my ear. “You have no idea what I have imagined doing to you,” he said roughly. My breath caught at his words as shivers ran down my spine.
“Maybe I should show you.” He gripped the side of my throat in a firm hold. Just enough pressure that it was pleasurable in a consuming way. His lips skimmed from my ear down the side of my throat. I shivered at the mind-hazing heat the soft touch of his lips brought with them. His rough hand and lips on my neck were all-consuming and more pleasurable than even the Latent had made me feel. There was no comparison. I realized it was because this was more than lust. At least for me. My body liked him . . . probably too much. But my mind was conflicted.
“You ready to lose that precious innocence of yours? You begged me for it once. I know you remember. You’ve never been a good liar, Princess.”
I shuddered as his lips brushed against my neck with every word.
His lips skimmed up and over my cheek until they stopped at the corner of my lips. I was breathless as my mind and vision were consumed in a haze. All I had to do was turn my head an inch and my lips would brush against his. There was no other thought in my mind and nothing I had ever wanted more.
“Decide what you want and decide now,” he ordered, his rough voice slithering down my spine.
My heart fluttered out of control as I stared straight ahead. I couldn’t make a major decision with a haze over my mind like this, and I believed that he might have done this for that very reason. But I couldn’t seem to care because his lips were so close to my mouth. I was drawn to them like a moth to a flame and couldn’t stop myself from slowly turning my head until my lips brushed his.
I felt tingles in every inch of my body, and my skin was in flames as my lips touched his smooth, full ones softly. There was a loud rush in my ears, but I could still hear the soft groan he let out against my mouth. That small noise had me pressing my lips against his firmly. My bottom lip fit in between his, and I moaned as he pulled it in between his teeth.
He roughly gripped my thigh and pulled me up against his body while his other hand grabbed a fistful of hair at my nape and pressed me firmly against the tree. His lips worked mine open slowly. Teasingly. Softly. The heat of his tongue touched mine, and a sizzling pulse went through me from the tips of my fingers to my toes. I wrapped my legs around him and grabbed his bicep to brace myself, my hand sliding down the stickiness on his arm.
I pulled my lips away from him and looked at the red covering my hand. The blood that he seemed to enjoy drawing too much. He was someone who had motives that I was sure were selfish. Someone who could snap my neck before I could blink. Someone way out of a simple farm girl’s league. And someone who didn’t care about me.
I looked up into his eyes. His lips were still so close to mine that it was hard to focus on anything else, but I pushed through the haze and turned my head to gaze blankly at the water lapping at the beach.
“No,” I breathed.
He held me up against his body for a moment with only our heavy breaths filling the silence. His forehead rested above my ear, and his whisper had goose bumps covering my arms. “I’m glad to see you do have some sense.”
He slid me down his body and walked away, disappearing in the fashion he was known for. I leaned against the tree for many minutes, breathless while I tried to get my senses back. I began to walk to shake off my hazy thoughts.
The breeze blew my hair around my cheeks, and the sun was warm on my skin.
You have no idea what I have imagined doing to you.
Weston’s words replayed in my head like a husky-voiced mantra. My body tingled everywhere from only a short kiss. I never expected him to kiss as he did. I always imagined it would be hard and intrusive. But instead, it was soft, teasing, and so seductive. I had to force my feet away from the camp and down the beach as my body wanted to turn right around and demand Weston finish what he started.
I wanted him to be my first. I wanted him to show me. More than a lot of other things. And that made me nauseated because I wanted it too much. It would have meant more to me than it would to him.
I couldn’t forgive him for everything he had done. For everything he wanted to do. I could only see myself spiraling down into a dark hole if I chose to be with him.
I wiggled my toes in the sand while I walked down the beach. My body froze as I heard a whisper on the wind.
“It’s time . . .”
Goose bumps covered my skin.
I spun around in a circle, and my heart jumped out of my chest when Weston appeared in front of me.
“What . . .” I tapered off when I looked up into blue eyes.
Blue?
I looked at Weston’s brother with wide eyes, but the moment he gripped my shoulder and I saw the blade in his hand, my heart pounded forcefully; it stole my breath as every muscle in my body screamed at me to flee.
As he plunged the cold steel into my stomach, panic no longer existed. Pain overrode it.
A guttural noise escaped my lips at the consuming, burning ache as I glanced down at the knife buried in my stomach. The coarse brown material of my shirt was being overtaken in dark red. So much blood.
The Sylvian woman’s omen had proved true. A small intuition had always told me it would, but I never thought it would be so soon. It was easy to imagine death, but there was nothing like it when it truly captured you in its unforgiving snare.
I wasn’t ready.
Sorrow filled the emptiness in my veins as fast as the blood rushed out of them. Each red drop hitting the sand was a memory of a future I would never have.
I would never see Grandmother again and in that revelation, the weight on my heart ached worse than the burn in my stomach. I should have pet Benji; it truly had been goodbye.
The experiences I would never have flashed through my mind as though death would only give me a taste before it ripped it away, and I blew away into the nothing.
I would never fall in love.
I would never make love.
I would never have children of my own.
I was too young.
My glassy eyes looked up into my murderer’s. I couldn’t see his expression through my blank stare. I was falling, but instead of hitting the solid ground, I felt icy water lapping at my limbs.
The murky depths pulled me down. My eyelids were too heavy to keep open, and I let them close as the water covered them.
Shaking began and water sloshed as the river was disturbed. Promises of peace were whispered in its depths. They lied. There was no peace as my body was surrounded in a cloak of emptiness.
There was nothing.
As I sank deeper down, it became quieter. Quieter than I had ever known before.
A haunting silence.
I sank deeper and deeper into the dark until it knew me.
And I knew nothing.
* * *
Water sloshed softly.
“Ca-lam-ity,” a voice singsonged.
“Ca-lam-ity,” it sang.
“It’s time . . .”