Kinsley x Julian

Reidna had been watching Kinsley and Julian for some time. They were ideal. The pain, the anger, the suffering and the yearning for it made them reek of potential. But they would be useless on their own, with such unhinged... desires. What they needed was someone like her, someone like her companions, to make them into something truly great. As a high ranking member of the Paragon, Reidna didn't attend to affairs much in such a hands on manner. However, she'd grown bored of watching failure after failure by her counterparts. They were losing their iron clad grip on the neck of this wretched place, and Reidna would be having none of it.

And with her powers to protect her, Reidna was unconcerned about walking into the lion's den Julian had set up for his little poppet. The woman, tall and supple, strode into the apartment, unconcerned for the men inside. The sound of her high heeled boots clicking against stone and wood no doubt alerted them to her coming. A slight smile touched the corners of her black-painted lips. When they came for her, she simply lifted a hand and with a twitch of her fingers, the men dropped like flies, writing in agony before going rigid in death. Reidna's power was pain. The manipulation of it, the creation of it. So long as there was fear and suffering in the world, she could feed off of it and use it to serve her purpose. As she entered the room where Julian and Kinsley were engaged in their little drama, the woman clothed in a black and gold velvet suit (usually tailored for men) leaned against the doorframe and gazed upon the scene with an almost bored look in her dark blue eyes, which were ringed with black kohl. Her hair, almost grey with how platinum it was, was slicked back from her face but otherwise left loose as it hung down her shoulders and back. "What do we have here, Julian?" She inquired, her voice almost a purr as she uttered his name. She'd learned it from watching them, and she knew more about them than they would ever anticipate. It was necessary, in order to establish control.

People are the truest version of themselves when they are alone. Boone was certain of that fact, but he also knew that it didn’t apply to everyone equally. Take Julian for example; he was just as much of a freak alone as he was in the presence of others. Between the incessant ticks and wandering eyes, the guy read like an open book that Boone wasn’t particularly keen on reading. The truth was that these people were a risky choice- but he understood why Reidna thought they were perfect candidates. Dangerous people made for dangerous mutations, and they just so happened to be in need of diabolical weapons. He had no doubt that these two were promising, but he wanted no part in keeping them contained. Fortunately, his baby brother would take care of that.

As if on cue, the bedroom door opened, and Bellamy appeared with subject number two slung over his shoulder. The smell of blood and sweat filled the small room and he resisted the urge to utter a sound of disgust, not ready to reveal his presence just yet. It always baffled him how his brother actually seemed to enjoy enacting such grotesque violence on people. The mere idea of hitting a bound and defenseless woman in the face made him cringe, let alone experiencing the physical sensation of flesh upon flesh. Everyone had their strengths and weaknesses, he supposed.

Boone watched idly as Kinsley’s head was forced beneath the water, wondering what possibly could have been going on in her mind. They were just rats in a maze, unable to see over the walls and realize that they were just playing someone else’s game. But much like the cheese at the end of the tunnel, the rewards would be worth it. Structure and power would soon be bestowed upon them and, judging by the state of unhinged chaos between the two of them, they’d likely benefit from both. As much as people liked the idea of freedom, most thrived under the thumb of others.

When Julian finally made a move, Boone shifted with interest and prepared to make himself known before they attempted to leave. He had no intentions of helping to subdue them- Bellamy could handle that part- but he couldn’t resist inserting himself into the mix and reminding his brother that he was always watching. Like any trapped animal, they would likely try to escape, but their odds were rather dismal. Kinsley was bound and crippled, unable to even walk with her stub of a leg. Julian was able bodied and strong but would not stand a chance against Bellamy’s brute force. In the end, this was just another tedious task and Boone had more important commitments to take care of.

The familiar clack of heels down the hallway interrupted his train of thought and effectively altered his expectations for how this scene was going to play out. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d missed out on an opportunity whilst mulling over his thoughts, but he quickly adapted, pressing his lips together and resigning himself to the fact that he was no longer in control. Reidna’s powerful presence filled the room, making his impending introduction feel pathetically underwhelming. That’s how he saw it, at least. He considered just up and walking out of the room to pursue his other, more personal interests. But his pride directed him otherwise, and he took care to remind himself that it was healthy to have a good sense of humor over such things.

“You’ve ruined my surprise, Reidna.” Boone’s disembodied voice sounded from the shadows, deep and hypnotic in nature. He was seated in a cushioned armchair in the corner of the room, though it appeared empty to the naked eye. He didn’t bother revealing his nude self, preferring to maintain the mystery of his identity with the new subjects until it benefitted him otherwise. The couch cushions shifted, and the floor creaked under his weight as he stood up- the only allusions to his otherwise invisible presence. “You aren’t doubting Bell’s abilities, are you?” he mused, aware of his brother’s impending outrage over the fact that his mission was being stolen out from under him.

---

Julian’s attention was focused solely on Kinsley. The way she looked at him, crawled to him, reached for him- it all made him feel incredibly alive, like he was the only thing in the world that mattered to her. Her thick-skulled captor was forgotten in an instant, reduced to the simple tool that he was always meant to be. It was proof that their connection was raw and real, intensified even after a week apart. Kinsley was his muse- his obsession- and as long as she continued to need him, he would be there to piece her back together. And then ruin her all over again.

Unmoving, Julian stared back at Kinsley as she leaned in tantalizingly close. He could feel her breath on his lips, but he was no fool. Kinsley would not kiss him, especially not here and now, and he felt secure with the knowledge that he understood her well enough to predict her actions. His skin twitched beneath her fingers, but he made no move to reach out to her, choosing instead to bask in the moment as she fawned over him.

Just as soon as his mood was lifted to the soaring heights of success, it all came crashing down at the sound of a feminine voice uttering his name. He physically cringed in response to the words, for a moment imagining that his mother had emerged from the depths of hell to sneer at him in that demeaning tune. His attention snapped toward the woman who had appeared, and he stared directly into her dark rimmed eyes, spiraling into their depths as he searched for a logical explanation as to who she was and why the fuck she had spoken his name.

After a few tense beats, he decided to ignore the overpowering sense of unease that the woman’s presence had instilled in him, instead opting to go about his plan as intended and simply leave. He gave Reidna a judgmental once over, raking her with his eyes from head to toe as an intense display of disrespect. Rather than addressing her, he forced his eyes back to the man he had hired in the first place, “I didn’t ask for a whore, dimwit,” he spat, his disgust poignant and real.

As convincing as his deflection might’ve been, Julian could sense that something was about to go terribly wrong, and he wanted no part of it. But before he could gather up Kinsley and leave, yet another voice materialized from behind him. His head whipped around instinctively, and he searched the corner of the room for the source of the sound, only for his eyes to scour the empty space in vain. That is the exact moment it dawned on Julian that he’d become entangled with not just freaks, but super freaks.

The alarm bells were blaring by now and Julian didn’t need a fourth ghostly voice to convince him to get the hell out of there. He reached for Kinsley’s bound hands and yanked her to her one remaining foot, gathering her to his chest possessively to keep her propped up. His eyes shot from the vacant armchair, to Bellamy, to Reidna- one, two, three- before he released a short, humorless laugh, “It’s been fun.” With that, Julian stepped toward Reidna, brushing past the woman with his sights set on the exit, though he couldn’t shake the sickly feeling that his newfound freedom was about to be stripped away- or worse.

The brutality was swift and shocking. At least, it would be shocking for most people. But Reidna had seen and done worse, though her skills were more refined whereas Bellamy's hinged on raw rage and force. She gazed into the blank space where Boone was sitting, observing the whole thing. It unnerved her, though she would never admit it, that Boone could see and hear things that no one else ever would. It irritated her to think that perhaps he had done it to her. Her dark blue eyes flickered to Bellamy as he beat on Julian and Kinsley, her mouth twitching at the corners with slight distaste.

"It seems the whole of the Paragon has come out to play with these two. Jude," she greeted the newcomer, then nodded her finely pointed chin in the direction of the victims laying on the floor, bloodied and screaming. With barely a thought, Reidna dulled any pain they were feeling down to a reasonable level. She didn't enjoy speaking above the screams of the tortured. Her powers, though usually used to inflict pain, could also be used to manipulate its sensation and effect on the individuals who experienced it. Perhaps Bellamy couldn't see why he wouldn't be successful. But she could. Kinsley liked the pain. She could feel it in her. And no matter how much Bellamy gave, it would never be enough to truly break her spirit. What Kinsley needed was to see Julian ripped apart. To feel responsible for his suffering.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Bellamy. I can see you have it handled, in your way." She rolled up her sleeves, approaching Julian and Kinsley and crouching between them, beginning to examine them with gentle hands. She brushed her fingers through Julian's blood-soaked hair, her gaze lingering on Kinsley's shattered foot. It had all the indignity of a breeder examining brood mares or siring stallions. She straightened up and faced Bellamy, knowing he was already enraged and not likely to take her next words kindly. "But I'll be taking it from here. I'm afraid your... techniques won't be satisfactory, and these two have far too much potential for you to break them down to the point of inutility."

Her head swiveled back towards Boone and Jude and she arched an eyebrow at them, daring to turn her back on Bellamy. He may be bigger and stronger and faster, but she could bring him to his knees with a thought if she wished it. Pain existed all around them and Reidna was advanced enough and powerful enough to weaponize it in any way she could imagine. "Boone, no doubt you were simply enjoying the show. Now Jude, why are you here?" She demanded and explanation. This was going to get sorted now, but what had already been decided was that Reidna was now in charge of these two promising targets.

There was an art form to being the center of attention and Jude was a world-class artist. Right now, he might not have been the center of attention amongst everyone in the room, but he knew just how much Boone was trying to appear unbothered by his presence - and he loved it. Where Boone valued privacy and discretion, Jude was unapologetically shameless. They were oddly complimentary of one another; a pervert with the ability to go unnoticed and the attention whore who could always sense him.

If Boone thought that his hot, disapproving, brooding stare would be some sort of reprimand for him, then he really didn't know Jude at all. Jude lavished in the moment, loving every second of feeling Boone's nearly hostile gaze burning through him. Boone had per-emptively arranged himself to shield his manhood from Jude's intrusion, but in response to Boone's thorough scrutiny, Jude slyly shifted back on Boone's lap. The move was subtle but the effect was immediate; the tension between them - arguably sexual tension, although Boone would never admit to it - grew tenfold and Jude smiled to himself as he felt Boone tense beneath him.

Jude rolled his eyes, tilting his head towards where he assumed Boone's head was to make sure he saw. "The girl touched me, her smell is fucking infectious. Blame your brother," He grumbled. If it had been anyone other than Boone, he probably would have more bothered by the comment. On the broad spectrum of personal hygiene, he landed somewhere closer to obsessive cleanliness than not. He seldom let true anxiety show, but now that Boone had implied that he stunk, he knew that he wouldn't be able to move on with his day until he bathed. But that scenario provided new opportunity - "I guess that means I'll have to bathe afterwards," Jude drawled, the unspoken invitation shamelessly hanging in the air between them. Just the thought of Boone watching him was enough to get him excited and he allowed his mind to wander away from the violence in front of him to what he hoped would happen once they left.

A pressure on Jude's leg, tantalizingly close to his crotch, made him jump. Part of the fun was that no matter how much Boone denied his attraction, he couldn't stay away - he always came back to watch, and Jude fucking loved being watched. But boy did he deny it, and he had never willingly reciprocated any of Jude's many propositions. So the location of Boone's hand, specifically in relation to the close proximity to his member, gave him momentary heart palpitations. But then the moment was over and the empty vial floated up between them and Jude rolled his eyes again. "You know better than anyone how much I exercise," Jude said lowly, eyes focused on the vial. The nausea was already starting to recede and the bitter taste in his mouth was a distant memory and it was all starting to feel worth it again. The first time he had been introduced to the barbaric drink, he had vomited just at the mere idea of consuming it but now, he would down shot after shot if it meant that Boone could enjoy whatever show Jude put on for him that night.

Of course, Bellamy ruined the moment. Bellamy was only fun to rile when Boone was around to protect him and that greatly limited Jude's opportunities. While Boone had an aversion to violence, Bellamy didn't hesitate. All it had taken was one joking slap on the ass and three broken ribs for Jude to learn to steer clear of Bellamy's oh-so-fragile masculinity. Once upon a time, Jude actually preferred Bellamy to Boone but that didn't last long. Bellamy's pretty face could only mask his raging, psychopathic tendencies and instability for so long and Jude was a lover, not a fighter. "Ouch!" Jude hissed when he felt Boone's fingers grab that back of his neck, even though it didn't really hurt, and was forced to his feet. He slipped the empty vial back into his pocket, feeling cold air fill the space that had been previously occupied by Boone.

Jude only partially paid attention to whatever Boone was saying, only really using his words to pinpoint his location in the room. There was something much larger at play here, there always was, but Jude didn't care enough to concern himself with the details. As long as he did the bare minimum of what was expected of him, he avoided scrutiny from higher-ups and didn't show enough initiative to progress a career he didn't want. He did, however, pick up on the strained brotherly relations. Boone had made an art of taunting Bellamy but he was playing with fire and one day, he was going to get burned. Jude wondered if Boone meant for there to be as much friction as there was or if had more faith in Bellamy's stability than Jude did. But if Jude was as protected against Bellamy's violence as Boone was, he supposed that he would probably also stir up trouble so he couldn't really fault Boone all that much.

"I came to see if our new friends had... changed yet, of course," Jude said with a wave of his hand. "You know how sometimes the change isn't very obvious and I'm just making sure these poor folks aren't subjected to unnecessary time with Bellamy," He said with a cheeky smile, noticing how similar the brothers looked when they were glaring disapprovingly at Jude. "Good news, or bad news, however you want to take it really - they haven't. And as much as I love spending time with dear old Bell..." he paused, feeling the heat of Bellamy's threatening glare and amended himself before Bellamy found him in some dimly lit hallway later on, "...amy, this room feels a little crowded so I can drop back in later." His excuse wasn't unfounded at all; after a previous mutation went unnoticed and then was still nearly beaten to death, Jude had been checking in periodically to see if he could detect any unseen changes. He didn't add that his timing was not coincidental; Boone tended to avoid him outside of the bedroom, and that made their run-ins in a professional setting that much more enjoyable.

Before Jude had the chance to leave, he was cut off by a scream of rage from Bellamy, and he followed Bellamy's gaze down to the source of his fury and had to choke down a laugh. It shouldn't have been as funny as it was to see the girl, the same one Bellamy had spent the past week torturing, latched onto his ankle like a starved dog. He almost didn't want to leave, but besides the added incentive of following Boone, Jude knew firsthand that he didn't want to be anywhere near Bellamy's temper. Anyways, as the seconds ticked by, the scene became less funny and more grotesque.

"And that's my cue to leave! Good luck Bell!" Bellamy was so focused on the girl's teeth ripping his ankle apart that he didn't even react to the nickname, which was a stroke of good luck for Jude. Jude gave Reidna a small wave and slipped out the door before she could consider to ask him to stay.

---

The diminished pain was not a blessing. As the pain receded, the haze in her mind dissipated and she was able to think (more or less) clearly. And the clearer her thoughts became, the angrier she became. She couldn't look away from the mutilated remains of what was her remaining foot and all the hideous ramifications it would mean if she survived. It had been hard enough to swallow the reality of only having one foot and all the inconveniences that came with it, but now, any hope of independence and adventure were null and void. And it was all Julian's fault. He was her creator, and she loathed him for what he did to her. He was the reason she had jumped down into that drainage pipe that had killed her foot and it was his hand that held the cleaver that came down on her ankle, cutting her free of her dying appendage. Now, he was the mastermind behind Bellamy's latest and greatest tantrum, pulling the strings of an unhinged lunatic in some sort of delusional effort to break her down and force her reliance on him. Well, he got what he wanted because now that she was crippled beyond repair, she was his fucking responsibility whether he wanted her or not.

Kinsley simmered at the sight of Reidna combing her fingers through Julian's hair, revolted and enraged at the sight of someone other than her fawning over him. He was a controlling, demented, neurotic piece of shit, but he was still hers and Kinsley didn't share. Whilst Julian had been resting and relaxing the past week, Kinsley had already been enjoying the generosity of their hosts and she knew Julian well enough to know that he wasn't going to tolerate it well. And it wasn't that she wanted to spare Julian from the pain he was about to endure, or even herself - she wanted to be the one to inflict it on him. She wanted him to feel how unnecessary his plan had been and how mind-blowingly stupid he was for landing them in a situation worse than prison. She wanted him to feel how helpless and ugly he made her by going above and beyond disfiguring her by crippling her, condemning her to a life of dependence. She wanted to take everything he had taken from her; his security, his independence, his hope. She wanted to taste his tears and paint herself with his blood. Unfortunately, she doubted they would grant her the ability to ruin him so she was going to have to settle for a front-row seat to his decimation.

"Was it worth it?" Kinsley sneered at him, eyes dark with resentment. She hated the way he looked at her, like she was something ugly. She was a product of his actions, a monster of his making, and he wasn't any better than she. She could practically taste the disgust rolling off of him and she knew that he wanted to abandon her but he didn't have that luxury anymore. She was a consequence of his poor decisions and she was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. "Tell me Julian, was all of this worth it?" She continued to taunt, her tone scathing.

At this point, her interest in Bellamy's unfortunate name and his obvious mental instability was waning. Their game was tiresome and she was angry that for once, she didn't deserve the treatment she was receiving. Additionally, it was frustrating that she was gathering bits and pieces of a much larger picture and the words that Kinsley did pick up on made no sense. And beyond that, there were four other voices in the room but only three bodies - although Kinsley couldn't be entirely sure that this wasn't just a miscalculation due to head trauma. If she hadn't been so consumed in her anger and devastated over her crushed foot, she might have been more interested in the apparent presence of supernaturals, but she didn't have the energy to care about anything other than herself. In the end, motive didn't matter to her; as far as she was concerned, there was no justification for what Bellamy had done to her and no amount of reason could protect her from whatever was inevitably coming next.

"Hear that, boys? At least someone thinks I have potential," Kinsley taunted with a sardonic laugh until Bellamy's foot drove into her side and she curled in on herself, wheezing. It took several long minutes for the pain in her stomach to ebb away enough that Kinsley mostly spent between alternating the focus of her resentment between Julian and Bellamy. When she finally felt comfortable enough to unfurl herself, Kinsley noticed how close Bellamy was standing to her and she couldn't, in good faith, just waste an opportunity like that. If she was going to die, then she was going to bring them all down with her.

There was no plan; no foresight, and definitely no consideration of the consequences. All she saw was an opportunity to inflict pain, even if only a fraction of what Bellamy had done to her, and she took it. Kinsley lunged forward and grabbed Bellamy's leg and without the slightest inkling of hesitation, she sunk her teeth into his ankle like a starved animal. His reaction was slow; at first, he tried to merely pull away from her but she wasn't about to let go so easily. She sunk her teeth in deeper, feeling the metallic, coppery taste of blood fill her mouth and then dribble down her chin. His screams spurred her on and she twisted her head, ripping the muscle. His other foot finally lashed out and he kicked her hard but she was relentless. The second kick was harder and her grip was loosening, but she still clung to him. The third kick finally did it; she flew back, but not without taking a chunk of his ankle with her. She rolled to the side, spitting out the chunk of ankle meat onto the ground next to her and started to laugh as she looked up at Bellamy.

This was a significant moment in their relationship; not only was it the first time she had really fought back or the fact that she injured him, but it was the first crack in Bellamy's armor. Her act of defiance was a stark reminder of Bellamy's fallibility, something that seemed to scare him more than the missing chunk of his ankle. The sight of him pale and nervous was truly thrilling and she continued to laugh until they were abruptly cut off as she accidentally inhaled a bit of Bellamy's blood and coughed hard. The reprieve wasn't for her benefit and she knew that when Bellamy rallied, retribution would be merciless, so she enjoyed the respite while it lasted. When she finally caught her breath and rolled over to look at Julian and smiled, her teeth were stained red with Bellamy's blood.

---

"What?!" Bellamy snapped, his voice coming out louder than he meant. His gaze snapped to where he assumed Boone was, glaring accusingly at the empty air. Somehow, this felt like his brother's fault. Boone was careful to appear professional in front of prying eyes, but Bellamy knew his brother, and Boone didn't need any more of a reason other than to torment Bellamy. His suspicions were all but confirmed at Boone's apparent dissatisfaction with his process, and Bellamy simmered. Bellamy wasn't just better than Boone in this line of work - Boone was entirely, 100% incapable of doing what Bellamy did. His gaze snapped back to Reidna, and then back to where Boone was. It was one thing to understand the principles on paper, but it was something else entirely to experience the process oneself - something neither of them understood.

Bellamy respected Reidna's authority within the group, but when it came to inducing mutations, he was an expert. The science behind it was poorly studied and hardly understood, especially by Bellamy, but the working theory was that a life-threatening situation, combined with the consumption of cursed blood could trigger a latent mutation if one was present. With an already-mutated individual, cursed blood suppressed the mutation but when given to someone who had not yet mutated, it seemed to dramatically increase the chances of a life-saving mutation. Not only did he excel at what he did, with an impressively high rate of successful mutations, but it seemed to be a job that no one else wanted - especially his brother. And he didn't like the idea of someone else coming in and trying to tell him that they could his job better than he could.

"That's the only way to induce the change!" Bellamy couldn't believe his performance was being questioned. Even though Boone never backed Bellamy on anything, it was still frustratingly disappointing to hear how little confidence Boone had in him. Just once, he would love for his brother to actually show something other than aversion towards him. Bellamy was all too anxious for Boone to leave, eager for the separation in the alliance between Boone and Reidna, that he didn't even tell him where he could go shove his directives for fear of him lingering around a moment longer. It was going to be easier to tolerate Reidna's presence without Boone to instigate him, and maybe he could show her that he was the right man for the job.

What happened next was a result of two crucial mistakes that Bellamy made. The first was that because of his physical advantage over pretty much everyone, he sometimes got cocky and careless. It wasn't just his sheer, unmatched strength; his reflexes were faster and his precision was flawless. It was unusual for someone to have the skills to outwit him in a fight, and downright rare for him to sustain any sort of injury inflicted by someone else. And prior to Kinsley, no one had ever managed to make him bleed. The second mistake was that he became so preoccupied with the politics of the evolving situation that he had forgotten about the beaten, deranged girl that lay at his feet. Bellamy was not in the business of making friends, and Kinsley had a personal score to settle with him and by taking his eyes off of her, he might as well have offered the idea to her himself. So, to Bellamy's complete horror, he didn't see Kinsley's attack coming in the slightest.

Bellamy was so unaccustomed to pain, especially at the hands of others, that it took a long moment for Bellamy to register what the fuck was happening. The situation was so bizarre that it was surreal; he looked down and saw Kinsley latched onto his leg like some sort of rabid animal and blood - his blood - oozing out from around her mouth and spilling down his leg. He screamed, wrenching his leg back and trying to shake her off, but his pain only spurred her on. He could feel her teeth sink deeper into the meat of his ankle, sawing away at his tender flesh.

"You crazy bitch!" Bellamy screeched, fury finally overriding his inherent shock. This never happened to Bellamy, not once, and it was unbelievable that of all the days for all hell to break loose, his brother and Reidna happened to drop in for a surprise visit. Actually, this wouldn't have even happened if Boone and Reidna had just left him alone to do his job - they distracted him, and now he was probably going to get some obscure disease from this bitch.

"I'm going to fucking kill you! Get the fuck off of me!" Bellamy screamed, his vision tunneling until all he could see was Kinsley and the blood that spilled down his leg. Anger festered inside of him, burning away at everything else inside of him until all that was left was pure, unadulterated rage. He was furious; furious that Kinsley dared to attack him, furious at Boone and Reidna for distracting him, furious at himself for not being able to see her attack coming. Bellamy stomped down on her and felt the way her body rattled from the blow but she hooked herself around his leg, hanging onto him like a starved dog with a fresh steak. She withstood two more kicks, each progressively harder than the last, until he finally managed to knock her away and to his horror, she took a sizeable chunk of his ankle with her. Bellamy stumbled backwards until his back hit a wall and he slid down it, his face paling as he watched the blood pour out of the unobstructed wound.

"Aren't human bites more likely to get infected? I'm pretty sure I heard that somewhere," Bellamy asked no one in particular, transfixed on the crater in his leg. Finally, he had enough sense to lean forward and strip his shirt off, whimpering as he pressed it to the wound. He gulped as he watched the blood soak through the shirt and he winced as he pressed harder on the open wound.

"You crazy fucking bitch," Bellamy growled, his worry melting into anger when he eventually looked up at Kinsley. This was no longer just a job. This was personal; her laughs filled his head until all he could was her vile, scornful taunts and his blood outlined her mouth and dripped down her chin, making her look like the psychotic version of a little girl experimenting with mommy's lipstick. And in that moment, he hated her with every ounce of his being. The only thing that protect her from his immediate retaliation of bashing her face in was Reidna's presence, but her luck was running out. Rage simmered beneath the surface but he wasn't anxious to rush his revenge. She wasn't going anywhere anytime soon and they had plenty of time to make sure that she regretted each and every transgression she had committed against him.

The moment was glorious. Breathtaking. A work of art. Hearing Bellamy squeal like a stuck pig was enough to make Julian’s heart leap with immense satisfaction, but witnessing the cause of the man’s pain with his own two eyes was an entirely different experience. While he laid in miserable heap on the filthy floor, he was graced with the privilege of watching Kinsley clamp her teeth around their tormentor’s heel like a chihuahua straight out of hell. The pain and shock that exploded from Bellamy was like music to his ears, and Julian drank in every single note as sweet retribution for the destruction of his face.

Perhaps Kinsley was unbreakable. He watched with renewed fascination as she clung to the man’s flesh, enduring kick after kick until she finally tore a chunk from Bellamy’s leg with the precision of a hungry shark. Bile threatened to rise in his throat at the idea of allowing another’s blood to invade his tongue, but he swallowed the feeling down, satisfied with the knowledge that Kinsley had no reservations when it came to such vile actions. They were two very different monsters and together they were a uniquely dangerous combination. Not just anyone was able to escape Nethilor’s maximum security prison, full of psychopaths and deviants from all walks of life. Kinsley had been his saving grace- someone willing to put their well being on the line in order to execute his plans.

When Kinsley finally turned to look at him, he realized that he was mirroring her expression- grinning from ear to ear, teeth strained red with his own blood. Julian would certainly underestimate her again, if only to fuel her psychotic methods of proving him wrong. Kinsley was a weapon and a shield all in one pretty package; she drew the negative attention away from him, and lashed out when he needed her to. If this whole mess proved anything, it was that Kinsley was still loyal to him despite his attempts to destroy her. He could see it in her eyes- in the way that she sought his approval. In some twisted way, this was turning out to be a success.

With the other mysterious characters gone and Bellamy wallowing on the floor, there was a distinct shift in the dynamic of the room. They were no longer outnumbered, and beastly Bellamy no longer seemed invincible. Julian couldn’t help himself, he just had to contribute to the ruination of the dimwit he’d hired, “You may have fists of steel, but it seems your skin is paper thin,” he mused, eyeing Bellamy from across the room as his Achilles heel was both literally and figuratively revealed, “Good to know.”

Julian’s eyes zeroed in on the wound as he attempted to stop the blood, feeling almost giddy at the sight. It seemed that Bellamy disliked pain and germs just as much as he did, and if that was the case, then Julian knew exactly how to manipulate the bastard, “’Infected’ would be an understatement. You’ve no idea where Kinsley’s been…do you? Prison can be a filthy place, not to mention the sewers…” His eyes flashed to Kinsley’s stump of a leg, and his expression became more sinister as he recalled the hellish scene in which he’d hacked her dead foot off with a meat cleaver, “I could remove it, if you’d like. I have quite the talent for dismemberment,” he offered, his choice of words careful and deliberate.

Julian was having so much fun with the turn of events that he’d almost forgotten they were being captured by group of mystical freaks, but Reidna’s interruption was quick to remind him of that fact. He grunted as she pulled him upwards, reigniting the throbbing pain in his head with a vengeance. Reluctantly, he planted his feet underneath himself and leaned his body weight heavily against the woman- if she wanted him to move, then he was going to make it difficult for her. In their close proximity, he took the time to study her features up close, scrutinizing her through swollen eyes. He could already tell that she was a harsh and severe woman, naturally attuned to being the most powerful in the room. What that power entailed had yet to be seen. All he knew was that she was beginning to remind him of his mother…and that didn’t bode well for either of them.

After staring at Reidna for an uncomfortably long time, Julian slowly leaned his face toward her and inhaled her scent, “You’re going to regret this,” he whispered the promise, his exhalation close enough to disturb her curtain of silver hair.