Obsession

 

 

What it all came down to, quite simply, was that he didn't want his sister to marry Remy LeBeau. He was a thief, for god's sake. The two Guilds had been at war since forever, in his view. Usually a sort of armed peace, but it had been far more interesting when the warfare was open. And this...this was meant to reconcile them? Presenting his sister as a sacrifice to the alter of politics? No.

This was not allowed to happen. He would die first.

He had thought that this infatuation with the demon-eyed boy, who grew up to be the man named le Diable Blanc would fade away. Bella had always been his. His to hold, to cherish, to love. And then one day, she had run into a scrawny little petty thief. Everything had changed. Because of this one stupid little encounter, with someone who could die and no one would shed a tear for their passing. A mutant. A filthy disgusting abomination against the laws of God. How could it even go into a church without exploding? How could their grandfather consent to this? This!

The memory of her skin under his fingertips was still thrumming. Her kisses, were so sweet. Like honey against his tongue as they rolled and tumbled in not so innocent play. Skin so white and perfect, with that one scar across the curve of her hip where she'd been a moment too slow in one of her assassinations. A bullet had grazed her, but she'd gotten away clean. A long slow lick along the length of it made her writhe and clutch at his hair, calling him her beautiful lover, her only one, her brother, her most beloved. And she was going to marry LeBeau. How could she?! She'd promised never to leave him, that even if they both got married, they would still rest in each other's arms. And no, she was completely endeared of this piece of dog shit, this bastard gutterscum from the streets. If you bred a throughbred to a scrubby pony, the foals suffered. She should know that, they'd both dabbled in breeding horses as well as knowing how to ride them faultlessly. They'd always done everything together.

Explored each other's maturing bodies. The way a woman's body filled out and curved was one of the most precious things he'd ever seen. It made him writhe in agony to think of LeBeau touching and tasting where he'd had first rights, and would never touch again. Because she had stopped talking to him. She'd stopped seeing him. She'd shut him out of her life, and he knew exactly why. Remy LeBeau. The man had to die. And if that brought the Guilds back to open warfare, then so be it.

Kissing the hilt of his rapier, Julien Boudreaux slid it into the sheath at his side under his wedding jacket. Giving himself a quick once over in the mirror, he walked out of the room and towards his destiny.

If he couldn't have his beautiful Bella Donna, then no one would.

 

 

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