Free Retribution, Devotion by Kai Leakes Page B

focused on the loss today. She had to admire the anger that the Oracle . . . no, she heard her name being screamed. Ah, yes, it was Sanna. She could admire that woman’s skills in how she smoothly came at her and removed her limb. The woman’s movements were ancient and worthy of a warrior such as herself, albeit the broad was on the wrong side.
    â€œNo, you are,” echoed in the back of her mind. The Medusa ignored it in favor of keeping her mind on her objective: the Oracle.
    The Oracle bitch’s backing was fierce. The pain she inflicted would make any Cursed noble heady in pleasure, if it were projected toward the Light Nephilims. Therefore, it was a shame to her that she had to hunt Sanna down and end her Light. It would be interesting to see exactly what she could be if she was given the Bite.
    â€œLike you or worse,” echoed again in her mind. The scattered odd thought made the Medusa bite the inside of her cheek in restrained fury. Once again ignoring that strange, pesky voice that seemed to appear out of nowhere after that Reaper touched her. She hissed to herself returning to her thoughts.
    How interesting it would be to see those beautiful fangs and wings of hers contort into absolute malice. But of course, a part of her didn’t want to think of the repercussions of what that meant, if she had caught her.
    In winning that big prize and turning her, it would mean the constant hunt of the Reaper. The man whose very fiery eyes put the fear of God in any and every Cursed he ever encountered and she could vouch for it. For some reason it amused her to see him rip her kind apart. His tactics were very dark, very much her style. But she refused to have her dark soul ended. Only the “True” death by hands of the Light kept her on her toes, ready for battles. However, it was the “True” death by the hands of the Reaper, that meant pain, torture, and forever living in the everlasting fires of Hades, which made her always watch her back.
    Every fiber in her declared that he need not come after her. She enjoyed breathing. She would rather take a bullet from a mortal and not die than be ripped apart by the Reaper as she had witnessed in the club today. She shuddered to think about the light from his very touch being forced to infuse into her malicious DNA. To relive every dark sin she had ever committed gave the Medusa the type of nightmares only her kind were known to give. Although, the idea of going head to head with him still toyed with her interest and kept her curious, slightly. She had watched him well. She had felt what he could do with his touch and knew to definitely battle him with caution and awareness and never let him touch her again.
    Her eyes were becoming glossy like oil over water, which drew her away from her thoughts. Her vision was starting to waver causing her hiss out in agony. All aspects of pleasure were gone. Intense pain made her sharply inhale while her head felt as if it were splitting in two. Each jab of discomfort made her reflect. When they went flying off the roof, she had no idea what the extent of the wounds inflicted on her.
    Everything seemed to run in a fluid seamlessness. Her focus was on making sure everyone she encountered either A: died; or B: were left with gashing, life-threatening wounds. Each objective, outside of killing the Oracle, or the Dark Lady’s future toy, she successfully achieved. She loved marking her targets in such a way; unfortunately, it seemed circumstances were reversed. That broad’s touch had changed something within her, which made her feel this pain; it was the only explanation. Her body was now seamlessly burning with jarring heat. She needed to sit with their healer and she needed to fast.
    Winter saved them in that club. Had she not tracked them and then gone head to head with those bastards, who would have known what would have happened? She herself had failed her Mistress by not protecting her as best as