Rabid For Her Revenge
SIXTEEN

When the train pulled into Sarakiel’s territory, I finally could take a steadying breath that relaxed me. Being in his domain gave me a sense of comfort.

The stack of papers hidden on the inside of my coat no longer felt like a weight and the vials strapped to my calves didn’t feel like constraining shackles.

I knew I still had to keep them a secret and couldn’t risk them being found, but I felt that they were really in my possession now.

They were mine.

I had successfully stolen them.

No one could stop me and demand who I was and search me, or at least I didn’t have to give in to them in order to avoid exposure.

After leaving the train station, I hailed a cab to the shopping center I had scoped out previously. I took my time gathering merchandise, hopping from store to store until I came to the true reason for this trip.

This tailoring store was one that specialized in formal wear such as the Rassah used only by Ones and also suits that could only be affordable to those of ranking.

The reason for my stop here was because this label was the very same one I had seen sewn into almost all of Sarakiel’s clothes.

Setting all of my shopping bags down on the countertop, I was given a judging look by the cashier who obviously thought someone who couldn’t even get a decent haircut had no business being in such a store.

I ignored his scornful gaze and held out my hand. “I need you to connect me with Sarakiel’s secretary or personal assistant.”

The male snorted and crossed his arms, leaning across the counter. “And who might you be to demand such a thing?”

“Someone who is obviously not afraid to address the One of this territory by his given name.”

“And for what reason do you think that we would have access to such phone numbers?”

“Because I’ve been in his closet and know that he orders enough of your product to warrant access to his assistants for ordering and delivery purposes.” I was trying to drop enough hints for the employee to understand who I was without saying it outright. Afterall, how many females could possibly have had the chance to be inside of Sarakiel Heelark’s closet?

Unfortunately, he didn’t really seem to be listening to me. “If we simply gave away Mr. Heelark’s personal information to anyone who walked in here and mannerlessly called him by his given name, our store would have long since been buried.”

Holding in a growl of frustration, I tapped the countertop with a clawed finger. This whole ordeal was quite inconvenient so I made a mental note to ask Sarakiel for a phone that I could use to contact him, or his Twos if need be, so that I didn’t need to go through a hassle like this again.

The sight of a female exposing her claws had the cashier’s eyes widening and reaching for the phone, probably to call security.

I certainly did not need to end up in any sort of authority’s hands with all of the stuff I had hidden on me. Especially when there was a good chance that they would hand me over to Zeta.

Snatching his wrist, I twisted slowly, forcing the phone out of his hand and clattering to the ground. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I warned him.

Then using my free hand, I pushed the jagged bangs out of my face to expose my silver eyes.

The cashier inhaled a sharp breath, recognizing the strange colored eyes that belonged only to the notorious feral consort of Sarakiel Heelark.

“Oh good, it seems you’ve finally realized who you are speaking to. Now then,” I said and released his wrist with a shove, “call my consort so that I can go home.”

He nodded fervently, clutching his injured wrist to his chest as he bent down to retrieve his phone. With fumbling fingers, he called someone who could help me to get a ride back to the estate.

It would have been easier to just take a cab to the estate but there was the fact that not just any car was allowed entrance to Sarakiel’s mansion and I didn’t need anyone seeing Sarakiel’s feral consort coming from the train station. That would raise too many questions such as where I had been, and why I had been alone, and what I had been doing outside of my consort’s territory.

I also needed someone to know that Sarakiel’s consort had spent the day shopping inside of her consort’s territory so that if someone started asking questions a secondary source could vouch for me.

I had taken extra care to not show my face to any of the video cameras in the train station and had boarded the cab in a blind spot so that I couldn’t be traced from the station to the shopping center.

After a few mumbled affirmations the cashier hung up the phone and whispered in a tiny and terrified voice, “um…someone will be here momentarily.”

His once mocking gaze could now no longer even look up from the counter. The male clasped his hands tightly together to try and control their trembling.

I dismissed him, picking up my bags from the counter and meandered through the shop over to the three mirrors and took a seat on one of the three cushioned stools facing the mirrors.

Soon enough a man came to escort me back to the mansion. He was a man of ranking, a Three he had to be since he was neither Kiro nor Phineas.

“I am here to retrieve you and take you back to the estate.” He said to me, lifting a hand to direct me in the direction out of the mall.

Retrieve. Like a dog that had slipped its leash and had been chased around town until it had finally been caught and collared again.

I couldn’t really be mad about it since that was the picture I had agreed to paint with Sarakiel.

Gathering my merchandise, I left the store and the quivering cashier.

The male said nothing to me as we drove in silence to the mansion. When we arrived, the door was opened for me by another Three who was waiting on the driveway as we pulled up.

“Mr. Heelark would like to see you.”

The words came as no surprise to me. I simply sighed heavily and handed off my bags to Claude, the butler, who grunted as I slapped the bags to his chest and moved on without a word.

The Three escorted me to Sarakiel’s office, stopping me from opening the doors and walking in by clearing his throat. I halted with my hand raised to push down on the lever. I shot him a glare that he couldn’t see since my eyes were hidden under my jagged bangs. Then, deciding I really didn’t need to make Sarakiel even more annoyed by acting without manners, I stepped back and allowed the Three to announce our arrival.

He knocked twice, “Sir, I have her here for you.”

“Enter.”

Just a single word spoken, but it was more than enough for me to know that my consort was not at all pleased with my disappearing act. Even if I had come back before nightfall.

The Three pushed open the door for me, bowing his head as I slipped past him into the office. The door clicked shut behind me, locking me in the lion’s den.

Sarakiel was sitting at his desk, his hair haphazardly styled, looking like he had just finished running and not sitting in an office taking phone calls and doing paperwork all day. It was Thursday, after all, and Sarakiel always dedicated the day for office work. But perhaps since I had slipped out this morning without notice, he had instead been putting his efforts towards locating me.

His blazer and tie were thrown over an adjacent chair, not even folded nicely to prevent them from wrinkling. The sleeves of his shirt were missing their cufflinks and instead were unbuttoned and rolled up.

The male certainly had been thrown off of his daily routine by my disappearance and I had to admit that I was a bit shocked to see him so out of sorts despite it. Where had the forever calm and cool One gone?

Sarakiel’s eyes flicked up and down my figure briefly, taking in my shaggy and worn condition and trying to glean my activities from my appearance alone. “Where did you go Daylin?”

His voice was dark, cautioning me not to push him any further today.

I remained standing, not daring to take a seat in case a quick escape was necessary. Taking in a breath, I licked my chapped lips and answered him. “Shopping.”

The pen in his hand cracked. Sarakiel closed his eyes, his jaw clenching tightly, “Don’t,” he warned me, his eyes slowly peeling back open, “don’t provoke me any further Daylin. Not today.”

I cleared my throat, looking away from him, uncomfortable with the way his gaze was piercing into me. “I went back.”

He set the broken pen down. “Why?”

He didn’t need me to clarify where I meant. I had been a wanderer my entire life, there was nowhere for me to return to except the place I had been imprisoned and tortured in for months.

“So that I can be useful,” I told him, letting him make of my words what he would. There was more than one meaning behind them anyway and I didn’t want to explain all of them.

Luckily for me, Sarakiel didn’t seem to replace a direct answer to be very important and was willing to accept my answer for what it was but not the reasoning behind it. “You wouldn’t be of any use if you’d ended up dead.”

“But I didn’t.” There was no reply from the male, but his eyes never left me either. After a long stretch of increasingly discomforting silence, I turned to look at him, grateful my curtain of hair acted as a shield of sorts from direct eye contact. “I never pegged you as someone who would waste time on the ‘what ifs?’ especially since I’ve already done it.”

I bit my bottom lip the moment the words left my lips, knowing that talking back was not going to help me at all, even if I was only trying to relieve the heavy tension.

Sarakiel, however, didn’t deem my remark as enough to start a fight since I was being relatively compliant.

“Were you seen?” he asked.

“Of course, I was seen.” I replied candidly.

“Daylin–” he growled, the chair screeching back across the floor as he pushed back from the desk and stood.

I hurriedly gave him my explanation. “I walked right into that house in broad daylight during a celebration. There’s no way I could’ve snuck in there without being seen. However,” I added raising my hands in an effort to placate his anger and show I had no intention of being difficult. I was tired enough from today’s events and wouldn’t have the energy to fight with him if it came down to it. “I was not recognized, which is all that truly matters.”

My consort braced his arms on the flat surface of his desk, the papers under his hands crumpling under his tensed fingers. “Are you sure?”

“Considering they didn’t gut the murderer of the late Myrin Redith on the spot, yes. But,” I admitted, “I had a run in with a male from another territory. Probably another province since I don’t remember seeing him at the Western gathering when Myrin brought me.”

“What about him?”

“He knew who I was and helped me out of a tough spot.”

Sarakiel slammed the heel of his hand on the hardwood and shouted out his frustration. “Dammnit, Daylin, you just told me nobody recognized you!”

Swallowing down my hostile response to his aggressive behavior I blinked calmly and stated bluntly, “Then I amend my previous words. Nobody except for him recognized me.”

Seeing my own efforts to keep tranquil, the One also did his best to keep the restlessness we were both feeling from escalating into something worse. “Why did he help you?” The words were taut with barely restrained aggravation.

“He had something to gain from it. Apparently, he knows about your character quite well,” I dropped the hint of my curiosity about that fact, hoping he would pick it up. “I believe he used the words, ‘stiff intrigant’ to describe you. He knew I had come for something at your command.”

“Well,” he said, shooting me a sidelong glance before turning his shoulders to face the window as he stared out at the looming grey clouds that announced the coming of rain, “I guess he doesn’t know me all that well considering you most certainly were not sent there by my command or even with permission.”

I felt a smile tug at my lips. He really was bitter that I had taken off without a word to him. Not that I could blame him. If his feral consort was known to be on the loose, the Wight Council would bring down their wrath on him.

Being on a leash was the only thing that kept them from storming into Sarakiel’s territory and putting me down. However, there was another male out there who wanted to cut the leash Sarakiel had on me in order to clip on his own. The only thing stopping him from attempting to do so was his belief that my current owner was putting me to good use. “If he was aware of that, I don’t think he would have let me go so easily. I only managed to convince him because he believed I was there for a purpose you had designed.”

“Name?” My consort asked, his voice ringing out in the small room clearly despite his back facing me.

“Elisen Gadreel.”

The veins on his forearms became more prominent as his muscles tightened. “The One of MidCliff territory in the Eastern Province. He has a lot of pull because of the vast size of his domain compared to the others. Not only that, but his uncle and older brother are on the Wight Council, so he also has sway in our reigning government.”

I really had escaped a dangerous situation into an infinitely worse one then. “As I thought, he’s dangerous.”

Sarakiel only exhaled a breath, his lack of a response the confirmation I needed to know I was right. “What did he want?” the male demanded, those hands drawing out from his pockets and coming to rest on his hips.

I stretched out my arms, grabbing the back of the chair in front of me. “He wanted me to join him.” My claws drummed against the surface of the chair I was gripping. “Then he contemplated killing me when I refused.”

Slowly, his right foot pivoting and then his left, he turned to meet my serious gaze.

There was a silent agreement between the both of us that enough had been spoken about Elisen Gadreel. We both knew what he was and what he was capable of. There was no use in talking about him anymore, only planning on how to deal with him. Before that though, we had more pressing matters to deal with that came first on our road to making Sarakiel Paramount.

My consort strolled over to me, picking up the badly cut ends of my hair off of my shoulder, examining the spottily colored strands. “What the hell did you use to cut your hair?” he demanded, rolling my hair between his thumb and forefinger. “A pair of dull garden shears?”

I pulled my hair out from his fingers. “I was in a hurry,” I defended myself.

He snorted and stepped back, cocking his head as his eyes moved up and down from the top of my head to my shoulders. “Are you presuming that I will allow you out to host garden parties when you look like the creature that haunts Blythe Mountain?”

The said creature was a pale ghost with long brown hair covered in moss that concealed her face as she limped blindly around the mountain in search of her missing eyeballs.

I was a far cry from looking that pitiful, though for a moment I thought it would be funny if I showed up as such. “The dye I used will wash off and fade in a few days.”

Sarakiel reached out a hand and tried to brush the sheared hair out of my eyes but the short strands didn’t reach behind my ears and only fell back into place. “That won’t fix these wretched bangs you hacked. You cannot possibly expect that I introduce a shaggy yak as my consort to the cream of society?”

Using my fingers, I raked my bangs back into place. “It’s fine. I can make up a good story. We can tell everyone I did it so that I don’t have to look at their disgusting smiles and fake expressions and get the urge to claw at those faces. Or perhaps I had a bout of rabidness and in a frenzy shredded my own hair and the poor soul who attempted to stop me.”

“There’s no denying a bout of craziness is what led to this whole ordeal,” my consort muttered derisively.

I blew out a breathy laugh, my bangs flying up from the puff of hair before settling back on my forehead. “You’re lucky that I am crazy Sarakiel. If we were both levelheaded, we wouldn’t have the fool willing to risk their life for something that seems impossible.”

The male shook his head and rounded the back side of his desk.

Following him, I leaned over the front to see what he was searching for. “With me, you will never cease being surprised. You will be entertained by me for as long as I am by your side.” Sarakiel looked up at me with apathetic eyes that told me he had absolutely no desire that I follow through with my claims. I only grinned back at him. “I will never let you be bored.”

He returned his attention to his search. “I replace drama to grow tedious when there is a surplus of it invading my life,” the One drawled as he rustled around through one of the side drawers of his desk before pulling out a purple folder with my name on it.

He held it out to me, lifting it in an invitation for me to grab it.

“What’s this?” I asked as I flipped it open.

“It’s your upcoming garden party. I’ve invited ten males and their consorts for you. They have all confirmed their attendance. In here you will replace party planners, decorators, and catering companies. It’s all your matter now.”

Snapping the folder shut, I shifted it behind my back, holding it there with my hands. “Aren’t you concerned with what I will do? What if I do it all wrong?”

Sarakiel shut the drawer firmly. “Then it will also be up to you to fix it.”

I hummed, my eyes following his path to the door. “I will have Kiro help me, so don’t worry.”

“Phineas is more suited to the task than Kiro since he deals with politics more, but do as you will,” he replied, opening the door for me and gesturing it was time for my departure.

Stepping up beside him, I bowed to the One, “I will keep that in mind.” I straightened with a smirk before striding out of the door, tapping the folder in my hand as I made my way through the familiar halls to my room.

Once the door was locked securely behind me, I set down the folder before flopping onto the couch, drawing out the notebook from the inner pocket of my coat.

I lifted the leather booklet to my nose and inhaled deeply, kissing the cover. This was finally the start of my revenge. I would make this society implode on itself and I was going to use the most unexpected forces to accomplish it and turn this world inside out.