It seemed to annoy Jonathan. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked, more sharply. And then winced when the guard lost patience and cuffed him upside the head.
I thought it showed remarkable restraint, considering how many of the man’s friends Jonathan was directly responsible for getting killed, but the mad mage didn’t seem to see it that way. He came off the bed, snarling, and was only prevented from doing any damage by the chains he wore.
“I’m going to get out of here,” he told me. “I’m going to come after you. I meant what I said—I’ll destroy that damned court, and the fucking demon spawn you sleep with, and that vampire, too—”
“We need a medic,” the so far silent guard said, into a mirror on the wall. “He’s having another fit—”
“I’m not having a fit!” Jonathan snapped, and then he looked back at me. “I’m telling you what will happen.”
“No,” I said. “It won’t.”
“And why is that?”
“Because the little goddess is savage sometimes,” I whispered, quoting his own words back to him. I saw his eyes widen with understanding, right before my hand caught his throat.
But not for long.
And then I shifted.
The End.