NABC Chapter 161: The Smile That Bit
Chapter 161: The Smile That Bit
Chapter 161: The Smile That BitI didn't blink.
She was on me in half a breath, that smile stretched like a puppet string about to snap. But her movements were jerky—glitches in the program, as if she hadn't finished downloading how to kill me yet.
"Down," I hissed at Elliot, shoving him to the floor with one hand as my other came up, parrying her first strike with the heel of my palm.
Crack.
The air snapped with the impact. Her knuckles skidded off my arm, caught in a rotation, and I twisted her wrist before she could reset. She reeled back, eyes flashing gold and black again.
That grin never faded.
"Masked Syndicate," she purred through a voice that wasn't hers, wasn't anyone's—like a distorted voicemail from Hell. "Cain sees Abel."
"You've got it backward, darling," I said, pivoting around her next jab with a dancer's spin. "I am Cain in this family."
She struck again—sloppy this time, a downward slash that tried to mimic training but bled chaos. I ducked beneath her swing, caught her at the waist, and swept her legs with a twist of mine.
She hit the ground hard.
Elliot gasped.
I didn't celebrate.
She rose again, no hesitation, like gravity offended her. Her eyes didn't blink. Didn't twitch. But her breathing was beginning to shake. Her movements weren't clean—they tried to be. But clean is something you learn with time.
I'd had lifetimes.
She darted forward again, elbow cocked for a blow.
I sidestepped, grabbed her shoulder, and slammed her face-first into the wall. Not enough to break anything. Just enough to remind her what a wall felt like.
She staggered, turned, hissed something incoherent through a bloody lip, then lunged one last time—
—right into my fist.
Her body slackened in midair like a marionette whose strings were clipped.
I caught her before she hit the ground.
Elliot was still on the floor, mouth slightly open.
"She—she didn't touch you."
"But of course not, dear Elliot!" I cradled her like a sleeping child, though her hands still twitched like they were
"So what now?"
I stood, dusting my hands. "Now, my dear boy, we keep a very low profile. The criminals won't find us here. Probably. They have terrible Yelp reviews for a reason."
Elliot hesitated. "Should someone stay with her in case she wakes up?"
"Yes," I said. "But not me."
"What? Why not?"
I clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I'm far too pretty to die before breakfast. And trust me—if she wakes up and sees me—we'll be painting the walls red."
He frowned. "You think she'll attack you?"
"I think she might mistake me for a hallucination and throw a chair at me," I said cheerfully. "Best not to take chances."
"So... where are you going to sleep?"
"The bathroom," I said with a dramatic sigh, stepping toward the narrow door like a man entering exile. "A noble tomb for a noble fool."
Elliot blinked. "That's a weirdly poetic way of saying 'the toilet.'"
"I am weirdly poetic," I called back, shutting the door behind me.
The bathroom was cold. Smelled like soap and regret.
I didn't sleep.
I sat on the edge of the tub, eyes half-lidded, arms crossed over my chest. My coat was folded over the towel rack like a gentleman's ghost. The silence buzzed louder than any siren.
Evelyn.
Two days.
I thought of her restrained. Questioned. Hurt.
Of her digging in her heels, refusing to speak, maybe holding out for someone to come. For me to come.
I clenched my fist.
No. Not like Sienna's kidnapping. This was messier. Sloppier. Sienna had been bait.
Evelyn... Evelyn was leverage.
And leverage meant they were planning something worse.
I must've nodded off.
A scream shattered the quiet.
High-pitched. Frantic. Violent.
I stumbled to my feet, yanked the door open—
—and she was already there.
Standing in the center of the living room, wild-eyed, her gown crumpled, one hand bloodied from where she must've punched the wall. Elliot was on the far side of the room, hands raised like she was a wild dog about to pounce.
Then her eyes locked on me.
And I knew.
I had made a mistake.
She didn't hesitate.
"Masked Syndicate," she whispered.
Then she lunged.
My god I'm an idiot.