Blood, Knives, and Prince Of Hell, Keara Masterson [great novels to read .TXT] 📗
- Author: Keara Masterson
Book online «Blood, Knives, and Prince Of Hell, Keara Masterson [great novels to read .TXT] 📗». Author Keara Masterson
”Yes, that's why she tried to kill me earlier. She thought she could just take the written Contract right off of my body, or maybe have the assassin torture it the Contract information out of me incase I burned it. Mother thinks me a fool. She didn’t think I would secretly change the Contract so if I'm dead, the Transfer to her is invalid, and your banished back to the 2nd Realm. Unless you possess my body the millisecond before you’re banished.“ The Prince struggled not to laugh out loud. It did not know what was going to happen, but this was fun! So unexpected! This young ‘Jack’ was very interesting.
They reached the door. It was a dark brown door, with small nicks and splits on it. It looked well used and possibly used for generations, but when the door was opened, that was just used for a certain image. It was thick and sturdy and the hinges were heavy duty, resistant to bashing and heavy weight. “I See You Have Made The Servant. Now, Tell Me Why I Shouldn't Kill You Where You Stand And Dump Your Body Into The Sewers.” An old women sat behind a black desk in a dark red chair. Her back was straight, body covered in pearls and red velvet. Her dress was maroon with intricate silver lace. Her image commanded attention and respect. ‘Jack’ bowed, over dramatically and taunting, unresting his top hat from his head and holding it out to the side. He had none for her. “Hello mother, thank you so much for your…present. My Prince loved her so much, he accidently broke her. May I have another?”
The Duchess waved her thin hands. “Enough Of Your Sass. Hand Over The Contract Or Tell Me How You Did The Ritual, And Perhaps I Will Let You Say Your Last Prayers Before Your Death.”
He stood back up, plopping the hat onto the Prince's head. The Prince gave a small smirk. “I'd rather not mother. You see, I rather like living despite having you almost ruin it.”
She couldn't resist leaning forward a bit. “Oh? Then You're Going To Have Your Prince Servant Kill Me?”
‘Jack’ grinned. All teeth. “Oh no mother, I'll be doing that.”
She startled. As she yanked a dove bone whistle of of her necklace, he shrugged off his jacket and handed it to the Prince. The whistle was blown, and wooden dolls sprang from the walls, still covered in wallpaper. “Keep them busy wont you?” The wooden dolls lurched towards the Prince. Already his presence was affecting them. ‘Jack’ ran forward and jumped over the desk reaching for his mother's throat, but was met with a small silver dagger. The dagger was slashed at his chest, but he batted it away. Thump. She used her leg to slip his from under him. While his mother was old, she was trained as an assassin and was still fit. As fit as she could be anyways. He moved out of the way as she stabbed the dagger down, grabbed her arm, yanked her closer, and punched her in the face. She staggered back with a bloody nose but almost immediately lunged at him. He had barely any time to get off the ground. Pant, pant. His low stamina was waning fast despite it haven't been more than 10 seconds. She ran and slashed at him and when he blocked that, she kicked at his face but it landed on his neck. His head whipped to the side and he fell. A heavy thump made the Prince pause at fighting the wooden dolls and glance over. ‘Jack's’ body laid on the floor.
4
The wooden dolls attacking the Prince froze when the room started to shake. The shaking got more and more violent causing the wooden dolls to start dropping to their knees. Cracks erupted from the walls and the house creaked. The Prince looked at the Duchess, its fiery pupils expanding and glowed brighter. “YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE DONE THAT, FOOLISH HUMAN.” The creaking got louder, dust trickled. Then, the roof fell.
Stone. Walls. Broken floor boards. Plaster. All of it had caved in, breaking and trapping all of the dolls. Except one. The Prince. He was standing over ‘Jack’, protecting his body from debris. A small cough echoed from under rubble elsewhere. The Prince bent down and checked ‘Jack’s’ pulse. Pause. The Prince shook his head. It stood up and sighed. Glanced from where the cough came from. It walked over to where the Duchess laid, her lower half of the body caught under rubble. Her hair was a mess, dust and chunks of the mansions stone walls covered her body. Her dress was ripped and, the Prince guessed, had many broken bones. “He, He, He,” Her voice was slightly hysterical.“Come To Kill Me Now That Your Master Is Dead?” She rasped, and coughed. “Come To Do The Deed? He, He, He, He-!” She was cut off by a jolly looking man, with only a slight sprinkle of dust on him.
“No, that’s my job.” Kneeling down, he reached into his coat and swiftly pulled out a pistol and put to her forehead. Smiled. “Ta ta, mother.”
“YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN HER FACE WHEN SHE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD. HILARIOUS. HOW’S THE NECK?” The Prince murmured as best he could. “Glorious, peachy, like roses in spring time- no you idiot, If she had been slightly stronger and if I hadn't been close to collapsing on my own, I would have been dead.” The Prince chuckled wickedly.
They walked out of the ruined old mansion, picket-fence and deathbells no more. Rubble was everywhere, not one board stood up. Not even the old office door. Some neighbor had seen the mansion, panicked and had someone go get the police. They surrounded the place, light blaring, sirens wailing. Police running around trying to keep people back. A few were running up the path to get to the house to see if anyone was still alive when they spotted ‘Jack’ and the Prince. A couple blanched, and one almost let out a shriek. “Well, Prince, I believe it would be best to leave now.” The prince put a hand on his arm and got ready to use the shadows. “WHATEVER YOU SAY ‘JACK’…THE RIPPER.”
“Shut up. That's a horrible nickname.” “HOW ABOUT ‘PEACHES AND CREAM’?” “I honestly can’t tell which is worse. Can we go now please?”
“OH ADDING PLEASE NOW ARE WE?”
“Do it you scoundrel.”
“SO MEAN. YOU HURT ME. REALLY.” Jack rolled his eyes as the shadows swallowed them and whisked them to an unknown place, never seen again by the public again.
Imprint
Text: what. me?
Images: google
Editing: me
Translation: me
Publication Date: 11-30-2016
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