Daimon, DANIELLE BOLGER [read my book .txt] 📗

behind them. The door tore open so quickly and violently that I thought an explosion must have gone off. They were all thrown off their feet. It was then I saw Rose—so beautiful and vicious—rush into the room, rip into Ryota's chest, pull out his heart and swallow it whole; all in the flash of a moment. He didn't take a moment to savor it like you. The next moment he ripped out Seiji's heart and then headed for my father.

“I wanted to scream out to him, stop this monster from coming any closer and protect my dad, but I couldn't move. I was too scared. I was such a coward that I had my hands covering my mouth to try to muffle my sobs. I was twenty-four, your age now, but unlike you, I was frozen by my fear.

“Dad pulled his gun on him and began to fire, but the bullets may as well have been flower petals. Rose walked through them without so much as a wince. Then he reached him and...” Alex trailed off, leaving me to paste in the last details. “I couldn't do anything.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “I just stood there, hidden from view, and watched the person I loved most die brutally in front of me. My father, who waged a six-year war for me, murdered horrifically, and I did nothing to protect him!” She barely kept from sobbing at the memory.

As she fell into silence, I continued the story. “Rose didn't see you, and you survived.”

“No,” she corrected. “I survived but...he saw me. After finishing with my father, Rose looked right across to the wardrobe, held out a hand and smiled. The sick son-of-a-bitch, with blood covered right across the bottom half of his face and hands, was smiling at me. Then this old man came into the room, and he was as bloodied as Rose was. He said something I that couldn't hear, and just before leaving the room, Rose turned and winked at me.” She shook her head, as if in disbelief of her own story.

Despite her distress, I lacked the capacity for empathy. “So a girl with no family and no identity survived a terrible massacre. What did you do with yourself then?”

“I disappeared,” she husked. “I came back, though, pretending to be someone else. I used my new name and tried to get close to him. I learned all I could about Rose and his daimons, and strategized a thousand ways to kill him in my mind. The trouble was, the more I learned, the more that my imaginings failed. I murdered him over and over in my head, but because he was immortal, he kept resurrecting and attacking me in my dreams. Years ago, I told Freddie of my plight, of how my nightmares killed me night after night. He thought these were funny and decided that was what he wanted to be—a nightmare. My foolishness, really, for trying to connect with such an evil creature; even if he was newly reborn at the time.” She took a long, hard drink. “I got close to Rose. I worked for him, and, before I realized it, was caged by him, subservient and scared. I let him rule me—the man I hated most. He commanded all my actions. I became his pawn, and that little promise I gave my father was looking less and less likely to become fulfilled.”

I understood her self-loathing and the fact that she could never run away. Though she hated Rose and his daimons, she could not permit herself to leave them before she fulfilled her promise. She would work with them and stand by their sides, all the while waiting for one moment that may never come. Rose undoubtedly knew of Alex's intentions and cruelly allowed her the slim hope of retribution, though knowing none would ever emerge. Alex would continually be dominated by her greatest enemies and haunted by her failed oath. I realized what game he was playing with her then: mouse in maze with the scent of cheese but no passages that led to it.

“Rose seems to like his games. Do you know what game he has set up for me?” I asked.

She laughed mirthlessly. “You haven't figured it out yet? It's the same game. It's the same game he plays with everyone—kill me, if you can.”

“I thought you might say something like that. Still, the game he has set up for me is quite different from your own. He has actually given me a chance of winning,” I stated.

She shook her head mockingly. “He wants you to think that. It does not matter what you are, your case is as hopeless as mine.”

“I am a daimon who killed Freddie, consumed his heart, and, I think, acquired his power as a result. I don't know if this was all a part of Rose's plan, but I believe it gives me a fighting chance.”

She rolled her eyes. “You were meant to kill Freddie. He let you think that if you're strong enough to kill one daimon, then you could kill them all. Freddie was weak, too wild and primal, and ruled by his emotions—a lot like you, and just as dispensable, I imagine. Rose wanted the two of you to have it out, and I suspect he knew you would be the victor.” She smirked. “The others are far stronger, faster, and smarter. Rose… he's more powerful than all of them combined.”

I brushed her words aside. “It doesn't matter. I will still kill him; I will kill them all. At first, I just wanted to avenge what was done to me, but now, after what those bastards did to Zach, I refuse to let any of them get away with this. I won't let his death go unpunished.” I promised.

She played with her straw, amusement lighting her grim features as if she just heard precious nonsense from a child. “Then you will die.”

“No,” I stated firmly. “I refuse to die.”

“You know, you could have just run away, left the Blue Coast and you would have been thought dead. You would have been safe and alive, but the very thing that you say has kept you living is the very thing that will get you killed. When you walked into this casino with vengeance on your mind, you would have been made, and there will be no chance of escape now. The daimons were fearful of how strong you were, how you would not follow commands. They had been ordered not to kill you so that Rose could have his fun, but I think survival is beyond you now. It is only a matter of time before they make their move and eliminate you.”

I smirked. “I invite them to try.”

She sighed, almost sadly. “Alright, you wanna skip to the end of this game?” She fished around into her handbag, pulled out a slip of paper and a pen. After writing on it, she directed, “Then this is where you need to go.”

I inspected the note. “I will find Rose here?”

“Yes, that is where he resides, but I warn you, they will know you're coming. In fact, they are watching us right now.”

I held the address in my hand. “Thanks.”

“Jane…it'll be Sage who comes after you. He considers himself Rose's personal protection squad. He may look old, but he is very strong; fast and smart. He'll kill you, but...I hope he doesn't. I hope you have your vengeance. I hope that if by some crazy miracle you manage to face it off with Rose, that you win—for your reporter friend, and…for my father.” She took a last sip of her drink and slid away.

I let her leave this time, as I was too lost in bewilderment.

Did I just make friends with a gangster?

Chapter Twenty-Two

I walked through the stiffly quiet car park. It was dusty and dark in the underground cavern. The overhead fluorescent lights guiding my way were spaced a little too far apart, causing vast areas to be completely veiled in darkness. There was also a smell here, of sweat and urine, reminding me just how sickening humans were.

I stopped, dead in my tracks, as I detected muffled footfalls. No one could be seen, but their hurried breaths echoed around me. Their heartbeats began to drum across the vast car park; a dozen of them, if not more. Adrenaline sent these rhythms into furious paces; their bodies were preparing them for fight.

Then the firing started. Bullets soared through the air from all directions; all aiming at one target—me.

I rolled away and took cover behind a sedan. I pressed myself up against it as the metallic rain barraged into the sturdy panels. The car wailed at the unfriendly treatment, and headlights flashed in protest. It did not take long for its screams to be silenced. I yelped as a bullet connected with my hip, searing through my flesh like a hot iron. The culprit, to my left, was tucked behind a blue hatchback, with a rifle lifted straight out in front of him.

He continued to fire, but no other shots made their mark as I leapt through the air and fell right on top of him. With one swift movement, I tore into his chest, ripped out his heart and snatched it into my mouth.

I peered behind me; there was another one, riddling me with a volley of bullets. I did not feel the first few, likely due to the positive effects of ingesting the organ, but in moments, I sensed them slicing into me. I took fifteen, outright, before I made it to this man and ripped away his heart as well.

His friends, to the left and right of his position, were ill prepared when I spun, midair, to land in their blind spot. I drove a kick to side of the first man’s head, sending him sprawling to the ground. I grasped the second man’s skull, engaged a firm twist, and his neck snapped instantly. I returned to the first man, still staggering from my assault, and stabbed two fingers straight into his eyes. He groaned for just a moment before he fell to the ground limply, blood oozing heavily from the sockets.

The gunfire continued, in force. I dashed swiftly to another row of cars and cleaved my hand straight through the waiting man's throat. Then used my other hand to tear the head away completely, and sent it flying into another aggressor, firing five cars away. As the cannon bowled him onto his back his fire fell silent.

To the right, four of them crouched behind the side of a car. From here they donated more fresh bullets to me, causing my vision to turn red. I ran up to the car and rammed it against the one parked next to it. All four torsos were severed at the point of contact.

Yet more bullets pelted my flesh. I roared as blood spilled down my legs and moistened my socks, but I was far from wounded yet. I ran up to a man, snatched his weapon and plunged it right through his belly. Gun tip emerging from his back, I pointed to his partner and riddled him with bullets. He danced erratically as each landed, shimmering shoulder-to-shoulder before his body collapsed in a heap. His mouth gaped open and closed as a pool of blood formed swiftly around him.

The remaining men moved in, surrounding me; firing into me from every direction. How many of these cronies are they going to throw at me? How many men are they prepared to throw to their deaths?

I launched through the hail of cartridges, grabbed a shooter by the throat, and pierced his windpipe with both thumbs. I elbowed some hero trying to strangle me, threw the man in my grasp at a rushing assailant, and then turned round and ripped out the hero's heart. I was about to gobble it up and restore my strength, but then I felt smooth steel pierce through my back, just below the ribs. Screeching, I retrieved the blade, turned around, and thrust it inside the stabber's belly. “How do you like that, fucker?”

I made for his heart, but was cracked in the skull with a steel chain. It was drawn back too slowly, allowing me to grab the chain. I yanked it from my pursuer, and pulled it back to whip it at