“My name is not…” I began, but he interrupted
me, cutting off my words.
“Ah yes,” Lazarius looked down at Damascus
sitting on the floor, “She calls herself Shizuka Ryōshi
now.” He laughed and turned his gaze back to me. “Aya,
Aya, Aya. When will you learn to stop assaulting my
friends?” He walked closer, shaking his head as if I were a
child who had not yet grasp the concepts of right and
wrong.
I looked at him defiantly, my loathing of him
evident in my eyes, “I’ll stop. When every last one of them
is dead and your fangs belong to me.”
Turning back to Damascus, Lazarius reached down
a hand to help him to his feet. That brief lapse in
concentration almost cost him his life. I pushed off the
wall using every inch of my body and every ounce of
power and ability I could muster, breaking free of his will
holding me.
As I came off the wall, I grabbed my dagger once
more. Propelling my body forward and using the wall to
my benefit, I traveled toward my target drawing the short
blade across the air level with Lazarius’ throat. It would
have seriously injured him at the very least, had Damascus
not pulled back on the hand Lazarius had extended him
less than a second before. If not for that, I might have
destroyed my tormentor once and for all.
Instead, my dagger slashed across his right
shoulder, drawing blood and scoring flesh, but not causing
the damage I had been aiming for.
“Bitch!” Lazarius’ ocean blue eyes swirled to red as
he moved in a flash, grabbing me by the throat with great
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