FicWad

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the following fanfiction, except for Eddy. Pretty much it's all property of Laurell K. Hamilton and I am simply entertaining my own fantasies (in the mildest sense). I also apologize for any OOC's, for I am merely an LKH fan and not LKH herself.

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Chapter Ten



She wanted to scream. That was all she had been doing. Her throat had become hoarse, until he sliced it open with a flash of his blade.

The dark Prince did not need to use a knife to cause her suffering. He stood above her gored figure on the floor, calling his hand of Old Blood. Every wound she had ever had opened up at his command. Every bite, every stab, every burn, every slash. All the blood she had ever tasted poured forth from her shredded body, soaking into the black carpet of the pitch black room. She saw nothing, only felt unimaginable agony and heard his malevolent laughter.

As tears fell from her eyes, the gaping afflictions on her face stung. He had not only plunged her in such fantastic suffering, but he had attacked her when she was weak. He ambushed her when she was blind. Now, he took his revenge on the pitiful little girl she strived for hundreds of years not to be.

She rolled on the rough carpet, arms grasping at the air, wishing for death and cursing immortality. Cel's laughter was a staccato rumble in his throat. He crouched down by her body, straddling her beneath an expensive pair of Armani trousers, drenching the midnight black cloth in her sanguinity. Her head rolled around, opening and closing her mouth like a sick fish, blood flowing out between her lips.

When she felt him above her, she extended her claws. But before she could take a feeble swipe at him, he pressed one of her wrists to the floor and the other with his elbow. He drew the knife to her face, carving a deep, steady line down her cheek, and then the other.

"Well, aren't you beautiful?" he whispered, then kissing her open, bloodied mouth. She whimpered, moving her head out of the way.

"Oh, Edith, isn't this what you wanted?" he murmured, running his hand down the side of her face."Are you not elf-struck?"

Her head lolled to one side. She did not breathe, but her heart beat furiously behind her chest. She could not speak, and each movement was such immense pain. She had become numb, wishing for death to swallow her up.

He squeezed her chin between his fingers, forcing her to stare straight up at him.

"Edith..." His voice was tantalizingly sweet. He moved his lips from the unbroken skin of her soft neck up to her severed cheeks, smearing her blood and the blood of her victims across his visage. "You know why I am angry, and you know you cannot resist."

What do you want with me, you bastard? She thought heatedly, but no sound could come out of her ruined throat.

"You know what Iwant," he growled, gripping her around the neck. Blood gushed between his fingers. She whimpered in pain. "Ahh, yes that/ /is what I want."

He suddenly stood up, letting the immense weight off her chest. His shoes made a slight scuffling noise as he walked back and forth across the floor of her bed room.

"I mean to punish you, Edith," he said. "You have done wrong. I ordered you to bring the princess to me, but you couldn't do something as simple as that."

He pounced at her helpless figure, bellowing at her, "YOU COULD NOT EVEN DO THAT, COULD YOU?"

She did not answer him, only lay very still.

He got to his feet. She could feel his glare on her. A look of disgust. "You are a sad, sad creature." He spat on her. "You are a failure. I gave you a simple task and you have jeopardized my discovery. The princess knows and she suspects."

He continued to pace. As he spoke, he dug the point of the blade into the flesh of his thumb."Of course, it is not the only assassination attempt on her I have ordered," he continued. "But I cannot fool my cretin of a mother forever, Edith." He smiled."I may be insane, but I am not an idiot."

The prince whirled around to scowl down at her. "And you," he snarled. "I have let you disrespect me. You may not be of the fae, but I am above you. I am more powerful than you. I only spared you to do me service."

He sat down beside her body, curling himself next to her. He ran his fingers down the skin of her face, across her neck and over her breasts.

"Although, you could have been of other use than merely to carry out my revenge," he admitted."I have never been with a creature like you before."

He was very quiet as he continued to touch her, his hand smearing her spilled blood.

"What /are/you, Edith?" he asked. He moved very close to her face, whispering into her ear. "You are not a walker of the night."

He took a long whiff of her skin and then got back to his feet. He began to pace again, continuing to cut at his fingers.

"Let us face it, you may walk the night but you do not truly walk the night," he said. "I know vampires, Edith. While some burst into flame at the slightest hint of daylight, you stand steadfast. The sun simply glows off of your skin. You are able to face it head on. It is as if you are made of crystal prism, is it not?"

Oh, how she hated him. He acted as though she could answer him, yet he knew she could not.

"I know that vampires do not have talons. I know that they do not actually transform into bats or wolves or black smoke." He turned to face her. "Real vampires are only human corpses brought back to life. They are the most wicked and unnatural thing in existence. While the Goddess wishes them death, they continue to live to spite her."

He poked her face with the leather toe of his polished shoes. "A sidhe would be repulsed at the mere presence of such a creature." His voice was low, almost a whisper. "And yet I stand before you, completely content."

He crouched down beside her face. "Why is that, Edith?"

A soft noise in the distance caught his attention. Beyond the honking cars in the bustling streets of the city, he could hear it.

"It seems as though the princess is seeking you," he said, laughter in his voice. "Perhaps for some revenge of her own? Who knows?"

He sheathed his blade after wiping off the blood on the bed's covers. "You might have been caught, but I still have a chance for survival."

And with that, he was gone.