Rabid For Her Revenge -
TEN
My eyes followed the Zeta agent for the rest of the night. I didn’t try to hide my blatant staring and even went so far as to give the male a little smirk when he locked eyes with me. His glare told me that he did not appreciate my scrutiny and advised me to look elsewhere.
There was no need for me to do so. After all, I was just a crazy feral. I didn’t need to be discrete or polite. So, I continued to grin at him over Sarakiel’s shoulder with my sharp eyes as I danced with my consort, holding on tightly to his arm, my nose buried into his shoulder.
It excited me, made my stomach flutter with delight that I could be so obvious about what I was plotting and thinking. I pictured over one hundred different ways to slowly dismember the Zeta agent and crush him bone by bone. The best part was that he knew I was daydreaming about his death but couldn’t approach me or confront me.
For years I had curled my lip at the prospect of a consort but who knew that one could be so useful? Sarakiel was my impenetrable armor, my unbreakable shield and with him holding my leash I was freer than I had been without my collar.
A rabid street mongrel had to be put down, but the prized attack dog could be as vicious as it pleased and was only rewarded and pampered by its master. A street mongrel had to snap up any food that came its way, every day was a fight, but the prized attack dog was only starved before the hunt for the most successful results and the greatest reward.
I could wait, slowly starve as Sarakiel prepared me for the massacre he had planned. He would release me one day and allow me to tear into the flesh that I was salivating for. I didn’t need to settle for the scraps anymore. Now I had the finest selection of meats just waiting for me to devour them.
Yes, perhaps this had indeed been a good choice on my part. Perhaps even one of the best choices I had ever made.
“Daylin, your claws.” Sarakiel’s low voice brushed across my skin.
I inhaled, getting a strong whiff of Sarakiel’s scent as I pulled back from his shoulder. Not smothered by him any longer I could catch the feint iron tang of blood. I looked down at my hand that was tightly clutching his arm and retracted my claws that I hadn’t meant to unsheathe.
“Whoopsie,” I beamed up at him innocently with a lopsided grin.
The male only looked down at me with mild amusement glinting in his eyes. Lifting his arm, he used his sleeve to wipe my mouth and chin where my saliva had dribbled.
“Are you hungry?” He teased me, seeing if I would get embarrassed from showing him something as shameful as drooling like a baby.
However, this male had seen me naked and scarred, covered in bruises and bleeding gashes. He had seen me at my worst, when I was beaten and completely dominated, trapped by this society and sentenced to my death. That was much more humiliating than a little bit of saliva. So, I only licked my lips and purred, “Ravenous.”
Giving me a small twirl, he spun me under his arm before pulling me flush against his body and whispered lowly, “I’d better feed you then.”
Like the perfect gentleman he was, he escorted me off of the dance floor and over to the table of hors d’oeuvres.
Sarakiel took up his post, leaning against the column right next to the tables stacked full of little finger foods. “You’ve been watching the Zeta agent all night,” he commented casually as I picked my way through the variety of breads and spreads.
Piercing an anchovy with a claw I lifted it to my lips. “I have.”
His eyes followed the anchovy all the way past my lips. “And?”
Sucking on my finger before releasing it with a pop, I replied as I went to spear another, “Easily flustered.”
Exhaling softly, the male pushed off of the column and came to stand shoulder to shoulder with me. “It’s fine to have your fun,” he said as he picked up a piece of bread and smeared a brown paste over it. He turned to me then, offering it with a serious face. I looked from the bread to him, cocking my head. “But I strongly suggest you also take the time to observe and assess the others here.”
I slowly plucked the appetizer from his hand. He made a good point. I had been wasting this perfect opportunity to feel out some of the other Ones and Twos and judging from the fact that Sarakiel had even brought it up meant that there was someone he had wanted me to take special note of. “Is there one in particular I should watch out for?”
The male’s impassive expression yielded nothing. “You tell me.”
A small chuckle found its way through my lips. Lifting my bread in a salute to him I cooed, “I don’t mind playing a little game.” I admired Sarakiel’s shrewdness. He already was aware of the most dangerous person in the room and wanted to use me to affirm it while also using me as a second judgment to weed out the other unsavory characters that could be veiling themselves in the crowd. “What will you give me if I win, Prince?”
He couldn’t possibly believe that I would be lending him my services for free after all.
Those electric blue eyes glowed, telling me that I hadn’t disappointed him with my astuteness. “What is it that you want?”
I hummed taking a bite out of the bread. “Ursa.”
There was a slight pause, and those electric blue eyes darkened a little. “Pardon?”
I smiled beneath the appetizer still in my hand that I was using to block my mouth with. “Kiro Ursa, your Two. I want him.”
There was another moment of silence, this one much briefer than the one from before. Sarakiel was already aware of my attempt to tease him before my comment was able to faze him. “Under what conditions?”
I pouted a little, disappointed that this sharp male hadn’t been misled by my request for even a second. “Nothing much. Just a few rounds of sparring.”
His reply was instantaneous. “Done.”
“Very well then.” I popped the rest of the bread slice into my mouth before dusting off my hands. “I will have to trouble you to lend me your arm for the rest of the night then, Prince.”
The male lifted his bent arm out to me in a silent invitation.
One by one my fingers came down on his bicep and tightened in an excited grip. Turning my chin up at a sharp angle, I shot him a malicious grin, delighted by this game he had set up for me.
My dress brushed up against my legs, the cool silk rippling like water with every step I took. The fluidity of each movement filled me with a sense of calmness. The chill from the cold metal resting on my shoulders was a comfortable weight that grounded me here in this moment and prevented me from getting lost in my head. The prickle of needles from the mercury flowing through my veins, the constant discomfort it provided, the slight pain, reminded me that I had already been through the worst life had to offer and I was the scariest thing in this room.
We circled the room slowly leaving me more than ample time to thoroughly examine each male. I watched their body language, scrutinized the way they carried themselves and clumsily fixed their masks upon their faces. I analyzed their interactions with each other.
I didn’t fail to notice the ones that stared back at me, attempting to do the same but they would never be able to peel back the layers that concealed me. My walls were not curtains easily brushed back to expose the dark stage of my soul. I had an ever-changing screen that displayed whichever face and layer I desired them to see, all which were truths about me in some regard but perhaps not a truth that was relevant in that moment. Lies were easier to wade through than a sea of truths. Lies were always falsities but truths easily changed, and it was hard to know how long a truth would remain true. Changing truths were a much more dangerous weapon to use than lies, no matter how clever.
My eyes swept across the room, easily pulling all of their truths to the forefront with just a glance from me.
“What do you see?” The male escorting me inquired lowly.
Each person was faceless to me, all having a white mask fastened to their head. I could see which ones slipped easily, tied loosely or with a fraying ribbon. I saw which ones had many cracks and were one bad day away from crumbling. I saw some masks had a permanent smile marred on them and others a cemented scowl. Yet others gleamed with jewels and feathers and fancy colors to mask the ugliness beneath.
“I see their lies.” I breathed my eyes landing once again on the mask that kept bringing my attention back to it.
“Tell me how they appear in your eyes.”
I tore my gaze away from the mask I had never seen the like of and allowed my eyes to wander once more. “They are all wearing masks, some are plain and some extravagantly outrageous with sequins and exotic feathers. Some are close to shattering, others slip constantly.”
Nearing the end of our second bout through the elegant ballroom, Sarakiel came to a halt. “Can you unmask them all?”
My gaze flickered over to the one mask in particular. I shook my head slowly. “No. There are four I can’t see past.”
“Which?”
I lifted my chin to gesture in front of us. “The first is the male dressed in red and white, he is standing near the orchestra.”
“Do you fancy a closer look?”
“Not because of him, but because of his son standing beside him. The old badger simply knows how to play the game. He’s smart but he’s not a threat. His loyalty changes with the tides in whichever direction will lead to the most favorable outcome for him in the end.”
“How do their masks appear to you?”
“The old badger’s is split half in a smile and half in a frown, usually I only see one expression. The fact that he has two just proves he’s been in this game for long. His mask won’t slip without some poking but that can be put off. His son on the other hand is quite intriguing. His mask is a mosaic of many different colored glass shards.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. Let’s take a closer look, shall we?” I twisted my neck up to lock eyes with my consort only to feel my stomach flip at what I saw. I quickly averted my eyes, hoping he didn’t notice the way I stumbled a little on my first step.
Without waiting for his reply, I half dragged him over to the father and son pair, focusing on them in hopes that the distraction from what I had seen would settle the queasiness I felt.
I slowed my steps as we came within a few meters of the pair and let Sarakiel take the lead.
“Teel,” Sarakiel nodded in greeting at the old male and then also in acknowledgement at his son, “young Teel.”
“Heelark, it’s a rare pleasure to see you at a ceremony like this. It’s truly admirable that you can manage your territory that resides in two territories. Twice the amount of paperwork and twice the amount of necessary management.”
The older Teel rolled his eyes, obviously not impressed with his son’s flattery.
“I couldn’t possibly miss the chance to greet all of my fellow Ones of the Northern Province. Besides, I have a consort now. So, it hardly seems acceptable to bury myself in my office day after day.” Sarakiel smoothly invited me into their conversation, calling for the spotlight to now shine on me as he blended back into the wings of the stage.
The son turned to me. His colorful mosaic mask glinted under the dim lights of the ballroom before fading to reveal his face. There was no need for me to see his mask anymore now that I knew to be cautious of him until I understood the meaning of his strange mask. “Yes, Daylin Farringhow was it?”
“A dog is a dog no matter what you call it, Riyon,” the old male grumbled.
With an exasperated sigh that was half pleading and half scolding, Riyon reproached the old male. “Father, please, all evening you have been stepping on people’s toes. Can you just take a break from it?”
The older Teel clicked his tongue and turned on my consort with a glare. “I have no interest in treating your pet feral as anything other than the circus animal it is. Parading it around at something as respectable and dignified as a naming ceremony, I must say Sarakiel that you are certainly lacking in both respect and dignity this night.”
“Father.” Riyon shot his father a warning look.
The old coot only sneered and waved his son aside.
Seeing that Riyon wasn’t going to go any further in an attempt to stop ripples from becoming waves, I entered the battle. “I have always found that my mood sours in the company of conceited and pompous males such as you. I am only too delighted to return the favor.”
Finally casting me a look, the male eyed me up and down distastefully. “What’s this? It barks out of turn. And here I thought we were all to believe you had tamed this dirty creature.”
“A loyal dog protects their master.”
“Ha! Your master is the last person in this room who needs protecting. As I recall it was not his wrist that was broken this evening.”
I peeled my lips back from my teeth to show him my pointed incisors in a smile that was anything but apologetic. “Dogs get bones for good behavior. As it happens, I have been exceptionally obedient these last few weeks.”
“Humph. Yet blood was spilled the moment you were taken out for a walk.”
My grin broadened. He was finally recognizing me whether he knew it or not. By engaging me in a battle of words and wits he was treating me as a worthy opponent instead of merely dismissing me and attempting to pursue a dispute with Sarakiel. I had taken his tactic and flipped it on him. Now Sarakiel was in the position he had wished to be in, only needing to engage with those who were of equal worth. This old badger was not qualified, so I would handle him just fine. “Those who like to get in the face of a wild animal should expect it to snap its teeth.”
The old male hissed out, “Any dog that bites should be put down.”
“I was lucky enough to be saved before such a thing could happen to me. It is simply my duty to repay my master’s kindness with unfailing protection, unyielding gratitude, and undying loyalty.”
Narrowing his eyes, the old man attempted to stare me down but when my grin never faltered, he dismissed me with a huff and turned his temper on my consort. “Muzzle your dog Sarakiel, it’s annoying barking has turned into incessant yapping.”
“Excuse my father Sarakiel, he has been in a mood since this morning.”
“Don’t apologize on my behalf boy! Who is he to deserve an apology, huh? We’re all Ones here. He isn’t Paramount yet, and until he is, I will keep my groveling and boot licking for the damn Wight Council!”
Riyon whipped his head to the left and right in alarm, looking to see if anyone had overheard him. “Father, lower your voice.” His tone was no longer gentle pleading and exasperation but now a stern command.
Despite the major shift in tone, the older Teel remained unbothered. “So what if their Zeta dogs hear me? What are they going to do to me? They let this one,” he said pointing rudely at Sarakiel, “walk off with the feral who murdered Myrin Redith.” The old male sniffed. “Those arrogant bastards can keep feigning control and ultimate power until they end up just like Redith, but the rest of us don’t have to follow their foolish whims and pretend we will give up our lives when the coup happens.”
“Sarakiel, you’ll have to excuse us. I think my father is tired of this ceremony, or perhaps of living,” he muttered, shooting his father a meaningful glare to which the old man only clicked his tongue and made a shooing gesture. “Either way,” Riyon said turning back to Sarakiel, “it’s time for us to retire for the night.”
My consort gave a low nod at the pair. “Have a good night and safe journey.”
As the father and son made their exit, I felt Sarakiel’s hand settle on my shoulder. I looked down at the hand, frowning at it as I waited for my skin to crawl at the contact only to once again feel nothing.
“So? Tell me what you have observed.”
I started at the sudden vibrations of Sarakiel’s voice. I nearly looked at him before I remembered the mask he was wearing and quickly diverted my gaze to the floor instead. “Mediator. He’s a peacemaker and tries to avoid conflict when possible but he’s not a coward. It’s the first time I’ve met a male of ranking like him. He’s genuine, there’s no need to be wary of him. It may even be within your best interests to bring him to your side.”
“Hmm.” Sarakiel neither confirmed nor denied if he would follow my advice. “And the other Teel?”
I snorted. “He’s just a cranky old male who is tired of mincing his words. He has his pride, but he also has his morals.”
“Are you ready to meet the other two?”
My eyes flitted about the room looking for the female I had singled out earlier. Her mask was not one that I knew how to interpret. It only covered half of her face, cupping her chin and the left side of her face. It was a mask made of glass, but that glass had been shattered and smashed.
“Needs fixing,” I found myself mumbling to myself. “No time for that now.”
As for the mask that had been drawing my eyes since the start of this little game, it was not one to be approached tonight. It was late and there was not sufficient time or preparation to approach him. The pure white mask was sculpted to fit his face perfectly, the brow line, the chin, the lips, nose and cheekbones were carved perfectly as if the mask had been painted in a layer of white upon his skin. There were no eyes on the mask just eerie emptiness.
I knew that this had to be the male Sarakiel wanted me to take note of. There was no other person that it could be.
Sarakiel followed my line of vision. “You truly do not disappoint me.”
“He’s dangerous,” I said without looking away from the male.
“I know.” Sarakiel didn’t look away either.
Blinking, I let all of the masks slowly dissolve into the faces of their bearers. I memorized the male’s true face for future reference. “Best to leave him for another day.”
“As you say,” my consort’s hands fell from my shoulders.
It was time for us to go. Our staring had attracted the male’s attention and now he was looking at the two of us with blatant curiosity. This was not an entanglement that could happen tonight.
Sarakiel understood this as well and promptly brought us towards the exit. We did not say our farewells to the host or even greet the others who tried to catch my consort’s attention on our way out.
Phineas Aquila and Kiro Ursa noticed their One’s urgent withdrawal and immediately pulled away from their own conversations to flank both sides of us. Neither dared to ask what had happened for such a prompt departure, not while we were still here. There would be time for that when we were safely back in Sarakiel’s territory.
“How long until the next train?” The One demanded as he opened the back door of the car for me to slide into before getting in himself.
“A little over an hour. We can catch it.” Phineas answered starting the car and pulling out of the gravel driveway.
“Good. Make sure we do.”
A silence thick with rigidness filled the small car, neither of the Twos willing to be the first to ask what had happened before Sarakiel brought it up himself. If the One didn’t volunteer the information, they naturally assumed it was not something they needed to know about.
Sarakiel certainly wouldn’t replace it necessary to tell them we had practically run away from another One so I doubted they would ever know what had occurred this night.
I stared into the rear-view mirror to see if the Twos would meet my eyes but they both took extra caution to make sure that they didn’t. Their One however had no such qualms and locked eyes with me. “Did you truly see them all with masks or was it just a metaphor?”
Closing my eyes, I let my head fall against the seat and exhaled a tired breath. “The masks were there.”
“How can you see them?”
I cracked an eye and glanced at Sarakiel. It was hard to tell what he was thinking but I was sure he had to be questioning something along the lines of my sanity or lack thereof. Letting my lid fall shut again I chuckled lightly. “It’s too late to worry if I’m truly crazy Sarakiel. I am not whole, but I am whole enough to do what you need and what I need.”
“Is it because of what he did to you?” Sarakiel broached the topic of my tormentor without any delicacy or apology.
I appreciated that he wasn’t treating me like a porcelain doll. I wouldn’t break at the mention of his name. I could talk about that dark chapter of my life since it was a large part of who I was now. By talking about him I was taking away more power from his ghost.
Letting my head fall forward I slowly peeled my eyes open. Staring down at my hands and the claws protruding from my fingertips, I clenched my fingers into tight fists. “I think I died once when I was with him. After I…” my hands instinctively reached for my womb before freezing and tightening back into their clenched balls. Clearing my throat, I continued, “I remember that when I came back, I was different. I don’t see things the same way anymore. I don’t focus on the same things I used to. I can’t even talk in the same way. Some days I feel further gone into my head with a looser grasp on my sanity, and others I feel complete clarity but struggle to see past my emotions.” Sighing heavily, I unfurled my fists and turned to my consort. “It’s better for both of us that I let go of a bit of my sanity, so those emotions don’t get in my way.”
The male held my gaze for several long seconds before turning to look out at the darkness of the window. “You’ve discarded sanity for complete clarity. You can see beyond the barriers the rest of us are blocked by.”
“I don’t see beyond,” I denied immediately, “I just see differently. The way my eyes pierce through the veils of this world is not something that the world is used to guarding against. Most attempt to tear the veil off entirely and so in defense the veil is fastened more securely or shrouded with several other layers. I don’t rip the veil free, I set it on fire so that the bearer themselves takes it off.”
I was talking in circles and in a way that was hard for others to understand because even I myself had a hard time comprehending how and why I was like this. Even so, Sarakiel did not raise his voice at me or show the slightest hint of frustration. His tone remained calm and even as he asked me to elaborate in a way he could understand. “How?”
“I had to change the way I saw the world in order to survive. If I ever attempt to look back on it with my old eyes I would be blinded.” Sarakiel turned to me, his brows drawn together by just a millimeter. He knew I meant that if I hadn’t changed into whatever this was, I truly would have gone completely mad and probably would have killed myself along with Myrin that day.
“What does my mask look like?” My consort gave me the opportunity to divert this conversation away from Myrin but where he was directing it was a place I wanted to go to even less.
Still, I couldn’t just ignore him outright. I could only hint that it was not something I was going to talk about. “The masks are gone now. I don’t need to see them anymore.”
Sarakiel’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally knowing what I was trying to do but he wasn’t about to let me get away with it that easily. “You looked at me once and then avoided repeating that action. I know you saw something.”
“Someone,” I corrected him before grimacing and hastily turning away from him to look out the window.
“Who did you see?”
I remained silent, closing my eyes and feigning sleep.
“Daylin.” Sarakiel tried once more but I was not budging on this.
There was no way I was telling him, not until I knew myself what it meant.
Sarakiel’s mask had frightened me more, much more, than the blank eyeless white mask. Emptiness was something I was familiar with. It was something I was comfortable with.
But for Sarakiel, it was not a white canvass I had seen but a smooth reflective surface. And when I had looked at him, all I had seen was myself staring back at me.
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