Novel-novel oleh Preshi Pandora

All the unease vanishes from Jasper's demeanor and is completely replaced by rage. He becomes still, so still that his muscles are visibly tense. Jasper's face contorts into his characteristic devouring look. The only thing between Jasper and Theodore getting torn apart, is a single pounce. Theodore, of course, is not about to miss this. He unhesitatingly points a silver printed gun at Jasper, now frowning himself. "Don't get any foolish ideas, Jasper. I could kill you early. Doesn't make any difference to me. But wouldn't you like to wait and see what I have in store for you?" "You killed Jules! You killed your own father. You vile—you freak," Jasper says, visibly shaken. This is the first time Jasper expresses anything about Jules's murder; all night, he has been cool and aloof. Theodore smiles in surprise. "Is that pain I hear in your voice, Jasper? So moving. Jules Gerald's favourite boy, grieving him. The old man's dead heart must be touched. But man, what's this weak-

We keep hurrying along, more out of restlessness than necessity. The heavy metal door leading into the basement is tightly closed. There is little chance that it would be blown off its hinges any time soon and even less a chance that it would be discovered. It opened on its own as we wandered close to a gust of thick smoke and it shut behind us as soon as we stepped in. The air here hangs still, unruffled by the commotion going on above. Even the lighting here is dimmer. And once again tonight, the basement looks like anything but a basement. It is more like some ancient fortress or strange monastery. We slow down to deliberate steps—not as if we could keep hurrying head-on into an underground tunnel we just found minutes ago. And my joints feel as if knives are constantly being jabbed into them. Jasper turns to me as I slack slightly behind him. We haven't said anything to each other after I called him a "son of a bitch" and almost blew my cover. And I almost failed father.

"Yes. Yes. That's absolutely right." Jules is pleasantly surprised. Jasper Grant's stare is unwavering, just clinical and unreadable. The man's feline almond eyes piercing through mine, have no trace of known ground—it's all uncharted territory. If it could all go down now, I can't afford any stumble. It all has to end on my terms. "You know, mademoiselle Michelle, for all his gracelessness, Jasper has quite the sharp mind. Well versed in history and the humanities. It might interest you to know that he once had a brilliant career as a lawyer. He rather got his mother's brains," Jules blurts, chuckling. There's no stopping him, when he breaks into his unending flight of thoughts. Apparently irritated at being the subject of discussion, Jasper Grant looks away to the incoming waiters with trays of food. On seeing the food trays, Jules gives a jubilatory clap. "Isn't that lovel—" The left lens of Jules's glasses explodes, his head snaps back and blood spurts from his left eye. Two

Those grey, depthless eyes relentlessly try to drag you deep into his dark abyss. Until he paralyzes your mind, until he leaves you defenseless in his mercies, then he's satisfied. He is a perfect replica of his bloodthirsty father, Mark Grant. Why don't I end all of this right now? Kill two snakes with one stone. Taking down both Grants at once would be better than I have ever dreamed. There are three guards in the room still standing over Jonathan Crocker. If I can pull my pistol fast enough, Barth and Jasper should be dead before the men can shoot me down. And my first bullet would go right between Ice Grant's grey worthless eyes. "Oh, come on. Don't be shy, I don't bite. Tell me your name," Barth says, beginning a coaxing smile but Jasper Grant snatches my hand and pulls me away from him. "Michelle answers ONLY to me. You've crossed enough lines, Barth. Bully, you got your hands on this piece of garbage first, but you have no other business here. Take your men out of my company

Morello beckons for us to continue towards the Del Pey Mansion. After we walk for some time, he breaks the silence. "Please forgive me, my dear Arturia. It is your passion as much as it is mine to see the Grants dead, every last one of them. When I lost my Mama to brain cancer, brain stem tumor, that was what they called it—Paul was there. He stayed around. He became the only person I had in the world that I could call family. That was till you came along, my dear Arturia." All the playful air and hysteria of the race has disappeared from Morello's manner. He has countlessly told me this story of how his and my father's brotherhood was born. It seems this is one of those evenings that stories are retold, but today the words don't feel the same. They are heavier, they are more urgent. "Father would have been forty-five last month. Of course, he'd no longer be built like a greek god, but I wonder what he would have been like now. When he turned thirty, he was so upset that he didn't

Jasper Grant does a pathetic job at concealing his expression, or maybe he just makes no effort to. He stares quite obviously from his large, empty and shiny desk. His eyes follow every contour of my skirt, rising till they come to rest on the neck of my blouse where two buttons are open, and the third barely holds the full bust together. Jasper Grant finally meets my eyes, his bright almond slits, no different from a panther's. "Who are you?" he asks in a low growl. "Michela Cruz." He makes no response and glares quietly, leaning on his elbows. His knitted eyebrows and broad, bulky shoulders only accentuate his already predatory air. I had known these very eyes when they were a lanky 15-year-old's, though, they now belong to a dangerously gorgeous panther of a man. So unless they are jetting out flaming bullets, I will still comfortably return the stare. It is a full minute, I'm sure, before he finally leans back in his seat and speaks. "What was that?" "Miche—" "What ar