Rabid For Her Revenge

Every set of eyes in the council room were on us. They watched as Sarakiel Heelark gracefully escorted his feral consort across the enormous room and up into the seats that were reserved for him.

My feet were not bare as they glided across the cold floor, the heel of my white stilettos clicking across the ground and sending an ominous echo through the massive space. I did not have a ratty and torn dress strewn across my frail frame, but a white floor-length polyester dress draped over my lithe figure that revealed the length of my leg through the high slit. The dress had long, cuffed, sleeves that hid my arms but also a polo neck that was pulled open in a deep A-line allowing everyone to see my claiming mark. My white hair was straightened, hovering just above my shoulders, my bangs swept to the side. Warm tones colored my eyes and cheeks, but my lips were painted a crimson red.

All eyes were automatically drawn to the only splash of color on my otherwise monochrome self, but I kept my lips set in a flat line that showed displeasure rather than its usual provoking smirk.

I didn’t want to be the crazed feral dog quite yet. Now was the time for them to see my sharp elegance, the well-behaved hound following its master.

Sarakiel’s hand pressed into the small of my back as he guided me up the steps. He acted as my source of balance since my hands were busy picking up my dress so that I wasn’t stepping on it.

I had practiced walking in heels for a few days, but I was still a little unsteady on the tall thin heel. I much preferred my bare feet flat and firm against the ground, however it was necessary for me to add height to my short stature so that I wasn’t lost next to my consort’s towering frame.

We took our seats in the stands, Sarakiel holding my hand as I swept my skirts out of the way to comfortably sit down. The whispers died down around us, but the eyes still lingered.

Those a few rows behind us and below us resumed their gossip but in much quieter tones now that we had arrived. Those directly around us kept their mouths shut, not wanting to risk offending Sarakiel and having him set loose his rabid animal upon them.

I sat properly, my back straight, my eyes forward, and my hands folded meekly in my lap. It didn’t take me long to lock eyes with Elisen Gadreel who was positioned a few rows lower on the other side of the giant court room.

I didn’t look at him for more than a second before blinking slowly and calmly turning my gaze elsewhere. I had no interest in playing whatever game he was scheming. That dangerous gleam in his eyes told me that if I indulged him, I would get distracted, and my mind would not be one hundred percent focused on what I had to do tonight.

That was something I couldn’t afford, even if it seemed like fun.

Tonight, no mistakes could be made.

Not if I wished to make it out of here with my head still on my shoulders.

So, I turned away from him and to my consort. I left a healthy distance of space between us, not showering him with teasing touches and sultry smiles like I usually did in front of people.

No, today I had to show everyone that I was a well-trained dog that was obedient when my master desired. He would allow me to be mischievous when he wished but when he needed me to be well behaved, I would most certainly be so.

There were many rumors from what people had seen through our past interactions. This completely different atmosphere now would prove to show everyone just how much control he had over the feral monster that neither the Wight Council nor Myrin Redith could break.

And that’s exactly what we needed. A symbol of Sarakiel Heelark’s strength. It would have people thinking twice about what actions they would take later tonight.

Silence fell as the Wight Council entered after everyone had been seated and accounted for. The nine males paraded through the grand hall and up to the raised table at the head of the room.

The head councilman banged his gavel calling for order. “The Wight Council has been called today on account of the many alarming deaths that have been occurring over these past weeks, to determine the course of action that must be taken to deal with these grave matters and finding out what is behind these deaths and who should be held accountable.”

After he had finished his opening spiel, the male on his right raised his voice and proclaimed to the audience, “We shall begin by calling Daylin Farringhow to the stand.”

Sarakiel turned to me sharply, alarm evident in his eyes.

We had known that they would confront me especially after I had revealed the knowledge about the mysterious weapon Myrin Redith had created. However, we hadn’t expected them to skip over the formalities and jump right into it without any of the pomp and circumstance.

To show him I was ready, I leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his warm cheek before standing. Sweeping up my skirts, I descended from our box and made my way down to the stand.

Once I reached the floor, I was escorted by two Zeta agents to the stand situated in front of the council where I had once been chained and sentenced to death.

As I took the stand, I placed my hands around the edges of the podium and leaned forward into the microphone. I spoke in a lazy drawl that told everyone I already found this entire matter tedious. “Why have I been called?”

I asked the pointless question as if every person in this room––including me––didn’t already know.

The head councilman’s lips were pressed into a flat line that told me he too was not looking forward to this second confrontation between us. “You spoke of a weapon designed by Myrin Redith when you were last in this hall. What have you to say about the mysterious deaths that have since been occurring?”

His displeasure at needing to go through this instead of just arresting me on the spot was plain.

Good. He was already well aware that I was going to make this difficult for him.

I hummed, drumming my fingers along the sides of the podium. “I have found it to be quite strange.” I tilted my head and tapped my lips with a finger. “There doesn’t really seem to be a true pattern, so I wonder what the objectives behind the assassin’s choices are.”

“Why don’t you enlighten us?” The third male from the left muttered.

I straightened, feigning a look of confusion and placed a hand on my chest. “Are you implying that I am the assassin?”

The male to his right said, “No one but you knew of this weapon.”

“I never said anything about the weapon being a poison,” I reminded them and shrugged. “It could be a knife.”

“A knife?” The head councilman repeated derisively.

“That’s what I said.”

The head councilman steepled his fingers and leaned forward on the high table. “Are you really going to claim Redith made a knife that could kill his enemies so effectively?”

I jumped in to correct him. “I said it could be, not that it was.”

The head councilman clicked his tongue and sat back in his chair with a sneer, shaking out his long sleeves in blatant irritation. “I tire of your antics.”

“As do I of yours,” I retorted, my light tone hardening into a serious timbre. “Stop your roundabout verses if you plan on getting anywhere. If you want to know something, why don’t you just ask directly then?”

The head councilman glared down at me and ground out, “What was the weapon Myrin Redith created?”

“A poison.” I admitted bluntly.

The head councilman couldn’t keep his eye from twitching. For me to object to the idea originally only to then minutes later confirm it was no doubt irking.

He rubbed at his temples in clear exasperation. “Miss Farringhow–”

“Lady Heelark, Councilman.”

His fingers stopped massaging the side of his head and his eyes looked up at me from under his thick brows. “I beg your pardon?”

“You are granted pardon so long as you do not continue to misaddress me.” Without an ounce of shame I continued, “I was recently consorted. I do believe you know of this as it was a rather grand spectacle that took place right here.”

Having had enough of me the councilman on the far right slammed his hands on the table. “Did you or did you not just confess that the weapon only you and Myrin know about is a poison?”

My silver eyes slid over to his corner. “Yes, to the part about it being poison,” I said. “No to the part of only Myrin and I being privy to it.”

“What are you implying?”

I sighed contemptuously and curled my lip at him, speaking to him slowly as if he were a baby. “I am obviously telling you that others are aware of it as well.”

“Who?” the head councilman demanded.

With a sweeping gesture of my hand, I rotated in a full circle on the stand while gesturing to the room. “Everyone here for one. I did mention it quite clearly last time.”

“This is ridiculous.” Muttered one of the males from the Wight Council who had been silent up until now.

My gaze locked on him, and I raised a hand. “I rather agree. May I leave the stand now?”

The head councilman ignored me and continued with his interrogation. “If you are not the one in possession of such a poison then who is?”

“Elisen Gadreel,” I threw his name at them without batting an eye. “He made a special trip from the Eastern Province all the way to the western one to congratulate a male he hardly knew on his promotion. Now, why on earth would such a busy and aristocratic gentlemen make such a trivial journey simply for well-wishes?”

Whispers burst out among the Ones and Twos behind me as they started speculating what he could have been doing there and if perhaps there was some truth to my words. I didn’t need to turn around to know that a pair of dull blue eyes were boring into me with mild amusement and interest. I also knew it was not the set of electric blue eyes that sparked a fire inside me but ones that induced a nasty shiver.

Surprise flashed across the head councilman’s face, but he quickly schooled his expression and rose his voice unnecessarily, addressing the One in the far stands. “Elisen Gadreel what have you to say to this accusation?”

The One stood up and calmly denied my claim. “Blasphemy.”

I didn’t turn to look at him as he was escorted over to where I was standing, brought to my left beside the podium I was on.

Now that we were both before them, the head councilman continued with his questioning. “Were you there?”

Elisen clasped his hands in front of him and rolled his shoulders back. “Indeed, I was. But I have to wonder how Sarakiel’s consort knew that. Afterall, from what I’ve heard, she’s not been allowed out of Heelark’s mansion without him accompanying her.”

“I was told by one of the ladies who attended with her own consort.” Even though my words were meant for Elisen, I stared directly at the Wight Council in front of me. “I have a lot of friends now, perhaps Mr. Gadreel has heard news of my tea parties?”

“Yes,” the One answered, he too looking to the council as he replied to me. “Sadly, I’ve never received an invitation.”

“It was intentional.”

We continued to speak without facing each other. I didn’t want to because I knew doing so would just end up with me being pissed off. Elisen was good at provoking, sickeningly good at it. His style was too similar to my own antagonizing antics.

Elisen also refused to look at me first, this battle of dominance to see who could get under the other’s skin first too entertaining for him to pass up.

I could hear the smile in his voice as he mused, “Have I offended you in some way Miss Farringhow? Not only have you snubbed me but now you are accusing me of treason and framing me as the assassin. I thought we had gotten on well during our last encounter.”

The Wight Council immediately caught onto the hint he had not so subtly dropped. Before they could ask about our first encounter I drawled out, “You are boring Elisen Gadreel. The typical mantis stalking the cicada unaware of the oriole behind it.”

Elisen didn’t miss a beat, also not allowing the council to butt in as they looked between us, trying to get a word in. “Oh, and you are the oriole I suppose?”

“What? No. I am the cicada obviously.” But I wasn’t just any cicada. I was one that had teamed up with the oriole to hunt the mantis. I was the delectable and irresistible bait risking its life to get rid of the most immediate threat to it.

Unfortunately, the head councilman had had enough of our banter and before Elisen could get in a reply banged his gavel once, silencing us both. “I call for order! Oriole, cicada, cease your nonsense, we are in court!”

I rolled my eyes and messed around with the microphone in front of me.

“Now,” the head councilman said, “someone will clearly explain to me who and why they were at Samson’s ascension.”

The One standing on the ground next to me took the lead. “I was there your honor, as was the female on the stand. I escorted miss Farringhow to the train station.”

Leaning in deep to the microphone that I had moved into a better position, I instantly rebutted Elisen. “False,” I chirped, “I was shopping in my territory that day. I never stepped foot in a train station, you can check the cameras if you don’t believe me.”

The One chuckled. “Well, I suppose there is nothing anyone can do since you and your consort went to such lengths to eliminate your trail.”

“More accusations?” I asked while rolling a strand of my hair between my thumb and forefinger. “Can you say anything in your defense instead of trying to incriminate me to divert the attention?”

“I did not take such pains to disguise myself so there are many eyewitnesses to my presence at Samson’s ascension, but you can also inquire about my whereabouts. I’m sure you will find that I was hardly ever left alone to be able to snoop around Redith’s residence.”

His response was irritatingly calm and sensible as if nothing about this situation unnerved him.

I let the white hair fall from my fingers and blew it out of my face. “As I’ve said, you are a bore Gadreel.”

“Well perhaps I can change your mind about that.”

The mischief in his voice had me on edge. Deep in my gut I knew I was not going to like whatever he had to say next.

“I heard,” he said the words slowly and deliberately to build up my trepidation, “something fun recently. A nursery rhyme that has been circulating through the children. It reminds me of your habit of speaking in rhyme,” he crooned and turned to face me, being the first to give into our little battle but he already knew he had won. I was struggling to maintain my composure as his words crawled under my skin.

“I’ve heard you can’t help it ever since Myrin brought you to the western gathering where you later killed him that very same day upon your return.”

My nails jutted into my palms as I squeezed them into tight fists. It indeed was a bad habit of mine. I thought it was fun to speak in complicated and ambiguous rhymes to relay secrets and advice but sometimes I found myself doing it without meaning to or wanting to. I was simply unable to express what I wanted to say in any other way.

Another blemish Myrin had left on me that I couldn’t do anything about.

The fact that Elisen knew it made my mood drop considerably.

Exactly how much had he been prying into my matters? How much about me was he aware of and how did he become aware of it?

I turned to face him fully, scowling down at him through narrowed eyes and sneered, “Now I simply find you irritating.”

Elisen continued on good-naturedly. “I believe the rhyme goes like this: Little princes playing in the spring, they danced around till one fell in. Down with a splash he bumped his head and didn’t move as the spring turned red. The other princes never halted their play and were all found dead in the very same way. Round and round the spring we go trying to–”

“Would you like to hear the second verse?” I cut him off, my words forced out in a sickeningly sweet tone but there was an underlying sharpness to it. I could feel Sarakiel’s eyes burning holes through me, warning me to keep my temper.

I ground my teeth together knowing it wasn’t time yet to let out the surmounting rage I was feeling. Forcing my words to remain light I cooed, “I just came up with it.” Then without waiting for a response from anyone I sang the next part. “Round and round the spring we go trying to find the evil foe. Ten steps to the left ten steps to the right now it’s your turn to fight. The bit of silver found in their blood mixed with red caused a flood. Those who drank the red spring water were also soon brought to the slaughter. Don’t ever dare step in the red spring because that is only ever a bad thing. Round and round the spring we go trying to find the evil foe. Ten steps to the left ten steps to the right now it’s your turn to fight.”

Murmuring spread throughout the open chamber as my newly added verse was discussed.

The whispers quieted but didn’t evaporate entirely as the gavel called for silence. “Did you spread that rhyme?” The head councilman voiced the question everybody was now asking.

“Round and round the spring we go,” I continued singing the refrain quietly to myself.

Irritation leaked into the head councilman’s tone. “I asked you a question.”

Still, I declined to say anything other than the refrain of the rhyme I was humming softly. “Trying to catch the evil foe.”

My refusal to answer only provoked him further. “Daylin Farringhow you will answer the question.”

“Ten steps to the left, ten steps to the right.” I sang out the lines louder and more purposeful, looking up sharply at the Wight Council with piercing eyes conveying that I was done playing their game and it was time for them to play mine.

I saw that my vindictive gaze had some of the males shifting uncomfortably and swallowing nervously. They could tell that the originally well-behaved dog was growing restless after being away from its master and it was growing apprehensive of the people trying to corner it.

In an attempt to gain control of the situation, the head councilman called for my consort. “Sarakiel Heelark, I demand that you make your stubborn consort comply!”

His exclamation brought back a little bit of my sanity that was bleeding away. “Oh, right,” I said, digging my fingers into the sides of the podium. “I forgot why my darling consort sent me up here in the first place.”

Again, I gave all of the power to my consort, reminding everyone that I was only here because of Sarakiel’s wishes and nothing to do with the Wight Council’s demands.

Of course, the head councilman was not oblivious to what I was doing and tried to steal that control away from my consort whom I had just given it to. “You were called miss Farringhow. Your consort had no jurisdiction in deciding so.”

“No, I was sent. I would not have come if Sarakiel did not have a desire for me to be up here. It was obvious you would all suspect me and force me to take the stand, it was my consort’s call to allow you to do so.”

Blustering, the male to the right of the head councilman began to rise from his seat. “How can you be so brazen to–”

“Shhh,” I hushed him softly with closed eyes and a finger pressed against my red lips. “Don’t you hear that? Can’t you understand what its saying?” I started humming a melody that had been stuck in my head for some time.

Again, the head councilman turned to my consort to try and rein me in. “Sarakiel what is your crazy dog going on about now? Has it finally lost its mind?”

Heads were snapping from me to the councilman to Sarakiel but in the end I brought the attention back to me.

“Tick tock around the clock,” I gave my melody lyrics, reciting the well-known poem and giving it the wings of song. “Time’s running out for those who doubt.” The melody took on a more sinister tone. “The storms of war will rage once more. Many will fight with all their might.”

“Enough!” The pounding of the gavel echoed again and again to drown me out but I only got closer to the microphone so my voice could still be heard.

I felt my canines elongate as a burning started in my throat, screaming at me to quench my growing thirst. “Tears of loss will be the cost as blood and gore wash your shores. Victors shall laugh as you are split in half. As your kingdoms and towns turn to dust on the ground.” Then I added a line of my own “Retribution will find you it’s time you knew. It will stare you down and then run you through.”

There was dead silence in the massive chamber.

“Prince,” my voice rang out loudly but roughly.

I saw some jump from the sudden noise.

I licked my lips, eyeing my first victim. “All of this talking has left me thirsty.”

“Fetch.”

I had launched myself off the podium I was stationed on, springing towards the high table with the nine members of the Wight Council, before the words had even fully left his lips.

Ten meters.

I had practiced this jump for this moment. I had leaped from the window to the roof until my legs screamed for a break, until they were shaky with exhaustion.

I dug my claws into the edge of the table, hoisting myself up onto the surface littered with papers.

The male in front of me couldn’t even let out a gasp of surprise before I sank my teeth into his throat and tore it out. Blood followed and splattered across the councilmen next to him. I moved on to the next who was frozen in shock having just witnessed the sudden death of his peer.

His blood also stained my white dress.

My third victim had managed to stumble out of his seat, but his foot caught on the chair in front of him.

I was on him before he hit the ground.

My hands plunged into his chest and pulled out his heart along with his lung.

I whipped around, tossing the lung to the ground with a wet splat. I brought the heart to my mouth and took a bite out of it, my silver crazed eyes locked onto my fourth target.

The Zeta agents were rushing up the stairs towards me, but they were far too late in stopping my slaughter.

I tossed one over the side of the podium and down into the fray where absolute chaos had ensued. The Zeta agents coming for me were intercepted by Sarakiel and his allies. They weren’t they only ones fighting though. Once everyone understood the situation at hand, they joined the slaughter, trying to get in any easy kill during the chaos to take out their foes while they had as good a chance as any.

It was a bloodbath. The marble floor was slick with crimson and a heavy iron tang filled the air.

By the time I made it to the end of the council’s high table, I was on the sixth one. Only three managed to escape from me, fleeing for the cover provided by the Zeta agents.

I swiped an arm across my bloodied mouth, the red smearing across the white fabric that was now deep red in some places where it had been soaked through with blood. I kicked off one of my shoes, reaching behind me to pick the other one off. I grabbed the stiletto firmly as I descended the podium and into the fray.

The heel found it’s home in the skull of someone fool enough to come at me.

I caught sight of Ramiel, his dark figure streaking across the wide expanse after one of the other western Ones.

I also saw two more familiar faces. Riyon Heel and his father were fighting their way out, not seeming interested in sticking around even if it meant having a shot at an old grudge.

The other father and son couple, Olric and Fenric Helgate were much the opposite. Absolute glee shown in their eyes as they tore into Zeta agents. Fenric pushed through the protective circle of Zeta agents around one of the last three councilmen. He grabbed the throat of the old male who stood no chance against someone so fresh and battle ready.

Kiro and Phineas were taking care of themselves, overwhelmed by the Zeta agents who sought to put down the members heading the coup.

My sights were set on the head councilman who was far too close to the doors and escape for my comfort.

I flew through the mayhem, making a beeline for him while shredding those who got in my way into ribbons. I grabbed a gun from one of the bodies and used it like a bat as I charged after my prey.

“You’re crazy,” the head councilman breathed as I hitched the stolen tranquilizer gun over my shoulder, his small guard ensemble on the ground and immobile from its darts.

“Yup,” I agreed, trapping him against the wall with nowhere to go.

His claws were out, ready to make a desperate attempt to save his life but the beast in me was hungry and had been salivating for his blood since it stepped foot inside this chamber.

A movement from the corner of my eye that I had specifically been keeping an eye on had me slinging the gun down into a ready position and firing three shots into the male before me.

Then I found my body hurtling into a deadly set of claws.

I crashed into my consort’s shoulder, knocking him forward and unfortunately changing my trajectory as I found myself tipping to the side and putting my face directly in the claw’s pathway.

They raked across my face that I had only just managed to turn a little. They dug deep down into my face, splitting open my cheek and cutting through my brow, the corner of my lip, and just under my eye all the way past my ear and to my temple.

I let out a howl of pain, taking my aggressor down with me as I crashed to the ground. I ripped into him with rage, carving him up like a savage beast that had been starved for days would.

My heart was beating at a furious tempo, thumping in its cage so hard I feared it would beat itself right out of my body.

I was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe as my chest constricted with every breath I took.

My left eye was blinded by the blood streaming into it and my split open face was stinging just from the air kissing it.

I coughed, trying to clear whatever was blocking my airway but instead lapsed into a fit of gagging.

No longer able to even support myself on my hands and knees, I fell upon the ravaged corpse below me. My nose was buried in the rancid musk of bodily fluids and eviscerated organs.

I was pulled from the dead body and dragged up against a wall where I was guarded by a blurry figure.

Trying to focus my one good eye, I watched the figure fight off those who came near us which wasn’t very many considering the number of people present.

“Ugh,” I groaned as I was able to make out Ramiel’s face when he casted me a look over his shoulder to see how I was doing. “Of course, it’s you.”

Ramiel only chuckled, shooting me what I think was a grin. It was hard to tell when he was so fuzzy, but I could see the white of teeth against his dark-skinned face. “You’re a right mess.”

Shifting my weight to the right, I eased off on my bruised hip. “Stop looking back here,” I hissed when I noticed him once again looking at me when he should have been watching for possible attackers.

“Just making sure you aren’t going to crawl your way back into the massacre,” he replied, turning back around in time to bash in the face of the male who had thought he was distracted. He stumbled back and then scrambled away from us, not wanting Ramiel to succeed where he had failed.

“The only one I’m itching to kill now is you,” I muttered and then tried to lift a hand to my face to gauge the severity of my facial lacerations but didn’t have the strength to even do that much.

“All the more reason to keep checking up on you,” Ramiel sang walking backwards a few steps getting closer and closer to me as he watched whatever was going on out there.

I couldn’t see with him standing in the way.

And maybe my blind eye was a factor too.

I let out a pained groan. Everything hurt. I could feel every bruise and scratch now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

I didn’t even have the time to lament over the gruesome fun I was missing out on before Ramiel was dashing over to my side. “Time to go,” he chirped.

The male scooped me up, not caring to be gentle as he ran off with me bouncing over his shoulder after Phineas.

“I’m definitely going to kill you after this,” I muttered feeling my lunch’s contents threatening to come out from continuously being shouldered in the gut and jostled around.

“Just wait until I get us out of immediate danger.”

The marble floor gave way to stairs and then another set and another set after that. Then we were outside and flying across the street and through the park to the main road on the other side. I was tossed inside the car, Ramiel sliding in after me and closing the door with an out of breath sigh of relief.

The car was already moving before he had closed the door.

It took all of my concentration to keep from vomiting on the floor, the dizziness I felt had my vision–­–or what was left of it anyway––­swimming. I had to close my eyes.

When the car stopped Ramiel exited the vehicle, but it was a few moments before someone stooped in to help me out.

My consort gently pulled me into his arms, hooking an arm under my legs to princess carry me onto the plane.

Sarakiel set me into one of the cushy seats, tilting my head to the side in order to properly see my worst wound.

As he rustled through the first aid kit, I turned my head back so I could see him with my functional eye.

His jaw was clenched tightly, so tightly that I could see the muscle there feathering. There was a jerkiness to his movements and his eyes were two swirling storms of unforgiving grey. Sarakiel’s eyes only got that dark when he was in an unpleasant mood.

He wasn’t just in a bad mood though; he was visibly angry.

When he had the sanitizing wipes ready to clean off my face, he turned back to me and halted, meeting my eyes with the first wipe half raised.

Dried blood splattered across his face and through his hair, caking his neck.

I lifted a hand to his neck where those claws had almost beheaded him.

My consort pushed my hand down and set to work cleaning up my face. “I’m fine.”

I let my hand fall and obediently turned my face this way and that when prompted to. As he leaned over and started to dab at the unmarred side of my face, his neck came into close proximity. I leaned into his warmth, my nose nuzzling against his skin and whispered mournfully, “Your beautiful head was almost lopped off.”

Sarakiel allowed me a moment to lay on him before he exhaled a drawn-out breath through his nose. He pulled away from me and tossed the sullied wipes onto the cart that had been brought to him with the first-aid kit. “Instead, you got half your face ripped off.”

He couldn’t look at me for a moment but when he finally did his eyes were hard and unforgiving.

I wasn’t skilled in the art of comfort, but I did my best to ease the guilt he was feeling. I was angrier that he had allowed such a deadly attack to nearly succeed than I was at the disfigurement of my face. “It’s just another scar.”

Sarakiel’s jaw ticked, telling me I had made it worse rather than better. He glared down at me before turning to retrieve the disinfectant and cotton pads. “They need stitches,” he mumbled as he poured a healthy amount of the disinfectant on the first cotton pad.

“Yeah.” I agreed.

No more words were spoken between us. There was nothing more to be said.

Not while emotions were high and the battle still fresh.

There was no need to ask him if the last two councilmen were dead. We wouldn’t have left it they weren’t.

I had no doubt that we had left a mass of bodies in our wake. It had been a madhouse and it would be a while until the losses were made known.

What our coup d’état stirred up and shook loose we wouldn’t know for some time but there was one thing I was certain of.

There would be many looking for revenge and they wouldn’t stop until they’d sunk their teeth into it. After all, I knew better than anyone the sweet taste of revenge and I was finding myself to be developing quite the sweet tooth.