Thursday came bright and early. Rita had breakfast in her new kitchen and started for the mall. The job of a personal assistant involved going out to events with or in place of the CEO so there were party gowns to shop for.
Rita felt alive walking through the mall with confidence in her debit card. Project New life, better things was a go and the first thing she needed was a whole new wardrobe. Rifling through outfits, Rita wanted her new work look to project confidence and competence with an overall nice appeal. Her personal look would be the same but with a bit of fun, comfort and sexy mixed in. The shop attendants were more than happy to help her with whatever she needed.
Rita blew over a grand on outfits excluding the shoes, makeup and jewellery. Home appliances, personal care and her bursting full pantry were a totally different matter entirely.
She sat in the tub just thinking about it. The bathbombs were amazing though. Strawberry Vanilla. So calming. She had had fun today. More fun than she had in two years. A part of her was still screaming about blowing off three grand but there was still twenty-four grand still left. So, no harm no foul. Plus, she still had her savings.
She had met several people today, most she had a few things in common, like jewellery and shoes but nothing that could strike a friendship that would last more than a few hours. There were a few totally edible guys–Correction. There were a lot of them but most got crossed off her list. How could there be so many douchebags in one place?
Her Romance checklist had:
•Hot, cute on a moderate scale.
•Thoughtful and considerate.
•No assholes, pretenders or douchebags.
•No wolves, maybe a lycan. And virtually anything else but a vampire. And maybe an Incubus.
•No mafia men.
•No creepers.
And if she was just in it for fun
•Make sure he was not an STD spreader.
•No videos.
•A one night stand was all it was.
•She would never see him again.
•No mixing business and pleasure.
A golden rule.
Coming out of the bath, Rita dried off and stepped out. She got into her new night gown. She had five now each one completely unique. Comfy sweet, comfy sexy, cool comfort, sexy comfort and cock wrangler. She loved the airy and soft feel against her skin of comfy sexy. It came in black and it was worth every penny.
10:45pm, everything in where they should be, her handbag was packed and ready. Tomorrow’s outfit was already hung. Lights off and her alarm set and both her phone and laptop on charging. Cars clean and waiting in the garage.
Ready.
She belly flopped into bed, exhaustion taking over in seconds.
WARNING: If you don’t like torture scenes and aren’t comfortable with it. Please skip this.
Two hours before 11pm, Samuel Princeton had been wiped off the face of the earth. The dog either had the luck of the devil or all her agents were getting sloppy. Very sloppy. To be fair, he was a hard one to put down. He had managed to evade the several other attempts she had made but tonight was the night he had finally run out of luck. Princeton had been willing to negotiate but he was still a liability and liabilities were meant to be removed. Permanently.
If only he were easily bought and most of all easy to get rid of, like that Marlene. Except the organization had not been responsible for her early…retirement. Princeton had taken care of that personally. It was better this way.
Just how hard was it to recover the body of a six foot four male African-American werewolf Alpha? Even if the current had swept it away? Irina wanted evidence that the mutt was dead. Then she could be hundred percent certain that he was dead personally. Then the rest of the fucking pack would follow. The biological freaks would drop one by one and that would be one more cluster of diseased maggots gone. That was a big score and she was not going to leave anything to chance.
The best part was, she was not anywhere near Alvas. Not by a few miles. If anyone were to ask or search, they would find that Irina Verushka was on a business conference on a small island close to Caribbean. A long stretch from Alvas. There would be nothing to pin her directly to the crime. The smell of sea water felt rejuvenating, and with the heady mixture of excitement and tension. Truth was, there was no conference. It was all just a carefully planned ploy. The event hall had been well bribed with an additional amount of threats to keep it that way if anyone came snooping.
Back in Alvas, Irina’s agents were sweeping the entire rekap river and its banks. When they found the body–and they would–she would be the first to know. There had been no way for Princeton to escape. The driver had been taken out by a sniper and the car had earlier been set up with wolfsbane cannisters. One word was all it took to set it off and she had given the order. Princeton had still given her a run for her money but with a Fallon’s worth of wolfsbane on his body and several rounds of silver bullets in his body, there was no escaping death.
A pained groan came from the other side of the room, followed by the sound of chains and zapping. Irina rolled her eyes and rotated the chair to face where the groan had come from. “What is it, my dear Anthony? Not liking my present?”
Irina hated to admit it but she had taken a liking to her assistant. As cliché as that sounded. It was not easy to lure him in, actually she did not. But for the past eight hours, she had been showing him just how much she truly cared.
New tears slid over old ones, tumbling down Anthony cheeks and into the blood dyed sheets. Irina rose from her chair, the click of her heels against the floor set Anthony in a futile frenzy of escape. A series of pitiful whimper left his muzzled mouth. Metal links clanged against each other, straining against their hold in the wall. His bloodshot eyes were focused on the remote in her hand. “I know that’s not the case. So maybe it’s that you’re not satisfied?”
Anthony shook his head vigorously. The leather cutting into his neck and chest even more. Half of his face was already firmly in the mattress. In his own sweat and blood.His naked back and buttocks exposed to her view. Bloody from her earlier presents. He did not want more pain.
“Oh come on. You don’t need to be prudish with me. We’re in here, completely alone.”
Anthony did not even know how he got here. One moment, he was walking into his house and the next be was in this mechanical hell of steel chains, leather and burning pain. He could not even cast a single spell.
“You must want more. After all, you magic users, wizards, witches and mages do love pain, don’t you?” Irina asked sweetly. Anthony kept vigorously shaking his head. No one he knew or had known for the past eighty years enjoyed causing or receiving pain like this. A little curse here, a small hex there was all. Irina was insane.
Anthony tried to plead his innocence through the muzzle.“mhmmmh”
“Trying to lie now?” Sarcasm dripping from her voice.
“mhmmmh!” No, please! I’m not lying! Anthony begged. Struggling more.
“Alright then. I’ll just give my little toys just a bit more juice.” Irina laughed without smiling. Anthony continued to pleaded but no amount of begging would do anything.
“mmmmhMHMMMHAHHGHh!” The scream that left Anthony’s mouth even through the muzzle reached the high ceiling and was the exact explanation what wild burning pain could cause as watts of electricity travelled through his body.
Irina pressed the remote button endlessly, laughing like a teenager and smiling like a deranged lunatic as her thumb smashed the black button. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, mixing with the heavy iron scent of blood, sweat and piss.
Anthony pleaded to every god, goddess and spirit he knew to save him. To the pain. To end him.
A sudden splat, squelch and crunch and the pain stopped. A small sigh escaped Anthony’s lips. It was all he could muster before into inky depths swallowed him whole.
The remote fell from Irina’s lifeless hands and clattered noisily to the waxed wooden floor, meeting the growing blot of her blood and bits of her throat. Her head and its bundle of red hair hung loosely from his fists. Rivers of warm blood covered his hands, mingling with the loose curls on her scalp before he let go and her body fell face first into her own dark red pool.
‘Well that was no fun at all.’ He thought, disappointment clear in his stance. Then again, he did not want to have to chase the damn bitch around.
He took in the room, more of a torture chamber–from the mechanisms, to the chains, the various torture tools laid out on the table. A real love nest. The assassin looked at Irina’s remains and the blood splattered glass window. The falling droplets of red forming a painting only he could see. Beautiful.
He looked back to the blackened husk left lying on the stained and burnt mattress. Someone else would take care of it.