"Names always matter," she spoke quietly, her hands wrapped around her mug of tea as if she could transfer its very warmth into her with that mere action.
I grunted, not having much to offer in lieu of that statement. I wasn't sure I believed her. I wasn't sure if I was called by a different name I would have become anything but the beast I am. I already had multiple names; Dimitri - Pakhan - Murderer - Thief - Sinner - and The Godless One.
"Can't you curse him or some shit?" I hate the hint of desperation in my voice but this entire fucking situation is bullshit.
She remained quiet and looked pensive before finally offering, “I need to see how we can get through her defenses for anything to be effective and to make sure it doesn’t rebound back on us.”
“Rebound?” I tried not to let my frustration show my ignorance in this subject matter. There was just so much I didn’t understand, so much to wrap my fucking head around. I fucking hated this, I hated that I wasn’t in control. I hated that I couldn’t just walk out there and shoot the fucker, And, I hated that Corinne was constantly in my space - her scent everywhere, her body imprinted on my mind - even if it was merely my imagination that conjured up those images.
“Yeah,” she sighed, shifting her weight against the counter, “Lauren kept saying ‘an eye for an eye’ - which pretty much means that if we try and take her and Sergei out, it will rebound against us. So if we end up killing them, there’s a good chance we’ll end up dead.”
“And if they try the same shit with us?” I asked, trying to get my bearings on how Magick actually worked.
Her smile was savage, and it was a calling that made my dick twitch as she said, “They’re in the same predicament - we’re at a stalemate.”
Pride rose up within me, swift and fierce, the fact that my girl matched that fucking Voodoo bitch head-on left me feeling guilt - which wasn’t something I allowed myself to feel very often. I lived with all sorts of guilt and regret daily, but this regret somehow tasted different. A wasted emotion if there ever was one. And yet it was regret that I felt because when she had arrived here, I thought she was some bullshit princess playing the part of Witch. I had been sorely mistaken.
She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, biting and chewing as she spiralled down into her thoughts, seeking a solution.
The thing about this girl was that she wasn’t actually afraid of me, not really. Where I pushed, she pushed back. And it wasn’t just bravado, in fact, I was surprised she hadn’t just told me to go fuck myself, but looking at her now, I was grateful that she didn’t.
I knew the instant she had an idea by the way her eyes blazed with ambition. Corinne was extraordinary and she didn’t even fucking know it - perhaps that was the appeal of her.
It surprised me that she didn’t know her worth - her value even, considering where she came from. Girls like here were usually offered the world on a silver platter with little or no consideration of others. I had looked into her father’s business. He had done well for himself - I mean sure, he could have done better, but it didn’t look as if they crossed any ethical lines. Her mother, on the other hand, was a social climber, which was shocking because all she had to do was perhaps get to know her daughter on a deeper level and Corinne would have opened any door she wanted - even if it wasn’t what she wanted.
I had thrown down the offer of teaching her about pleasure as if it were a fucking hardship. Normally, I took what I wanted, barked commands and orders, and had a bevy of women who blindly obeyed, eeking out my pleasure little by little. With Corinne, I wanted nothing more than to press her against the wall and ravage her, but it needed to be her decision because the last thing I needed was the scorn of a Witch. She’d come around, I saw it in her eyes, the way her breathing hitched slightly when we were in close proximity to one another. She was a fucking enigma, and I would bide my time until she crawled into my bed. Because passion somehow seemed synonymous with Magick.
“I think I have an idea on how to discover what their protection actually entails and how we can get around it,” she grinned up at me, a woman on the hunt for a solution.
That was the kind of woman I wanted beneath me, liberated from the shackles of what she thought she needed to be for the fucking world.
“Just do it,” I uttered the words in her direction, grabbing my vibrating phone once more.
This was the problem with my life - my position - there was always someone needing something from you. And, there was always someone trying to be higher up on the food chain than you were. It was a fucking nightmare, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. This was my parents legacy, and I would guard it with my last drop of blood. I had already lived far longer than was my due, and I would keep punching out enemies until I physically couldn’t anymore.
I glanced down at my phone, my eyes finally breaking contact with Corinne’s figure. It was Alex from the lab with the results. If those fuckers mimicked our product exactly, I would fucking throttle them. I may not be able to kill them, but that did not mean that more innovative ways of dealing with them were off the table yet.
“You don’t even know what I’m proposing,” she sounded as if she were almost protesting.
Did she want me to witness her work her Magick again? Because if so, then that was an entirely new response.
Before answering the flashing green answer button on the screen, I held her gaze, my throat constricting slightly as I said, “I trust you, do what you need to do.”
Without further commentary, I left the kitchen to take Alex’s call, certain that by the time I was done, the type of torture I currently had in mind would seem too tame.
I stepped outside, the grass obscenely green beneath my loafers. That’s what you got for paying top dollar for the state-of-the-art sprinkler system that I had installed here. All so that our grass looked slightly greener than our neighbours, making us the envy of the street. And wasn’t that the fucking joke.
“Govorit,” I growled down the line, ordering Alex to speak.
Even while I listened to him talk about the compositional make-up of our product versus theirs, I was keenly aware that Corinne was behind me in the house somewhere, and it struck me that I wanted to be where she was - I wanted to be watching what she was doing, not talking compositional make-up of our product with Alex.
“And?” I demanded once he had finished his slew of science.
“It’s our product.”
The words echoed down the line and my immediate response was to grit my jaw and breathe through my nose - an old fighting habit.
“Are you certain it’s our product and isn’t just similar to ours?”