Kai Villalvazo’s Nemesis (The Kalon Tetralogy #1)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

BADASF — SANI KNIGHT

?? KAI ??

I smiled as I entered my little bunny’s room for the umpteenth time, everything in place except her books. She had picked the one in the middle and the space was bothering me a lot.

I swiftly moved towards the bookshelf, then rearranged them according to colour and size. I couldn’t help it; I only functioned well in a thoroughly organised environment. If Yasmina noticed that I rearranged almost everything in her room, she just didn’t care.

I moved to her drawers, clenching my jaw when I saw the scrambled clothing items that I had dedicated my previous evening to folding. My eyes shifted to her and a momentary calmness engulfed me. She was sleeping so soundly today, and I don’t know why that information relieved me.

I should enjoy her suffering. She should suffer. I was here to eliminate her peace and happiness.

And her life. But all in due time.

The itch to rearrange everything overpowered me and I hardly thought as I folded, rolled, and stacked all her clothes, from the bottom drawer to the top.

It was a daily thing: I organised her clothes and she scrambled them whenever she was looking for an outfit. It was a fucking cycle that should have exhausted me, but I secretly looked forward to it. It was a pleasant way to keep my tormented mind busy, an excuse to stay in the safe realm of Yasmina’s energy.

I moved to the last and final drawer: her underwear drawer. I involuntarily smiled as I inspected them, as though I was seeing them for the first time. I knew the ones she liked and the ones she didn’t.

I had my favourites, too. I was sometimes guilty of being unable to resist the temptation to leave them in her drawer. I had my own personal stash of Yasmina’s sexy panties and I wondered if she ever noticed they were gone.

They were the few I wanted to see her in, and possibly ripped from her pussy after.

I was here on a mission: harm her or get some information. Since I had gone through her room too many times to count and found nothing, I decided to go with the former.

Whipping my switchblade out, I circled her bed while glaring at her from a distance. Her book was long abandoned and as usual, not bookmarked. But I could clearly see where she left off by the gap, and when I moved to lift the book, the fading warmth of her fingers still lingered when I ran my hand over the crisp page.

I pulled a bookmark from my pocket and inserted it in between, then placed the book on the nightstand. I continued with my glaring, and the more I stared at her, the more my hatred for her burned.

I clenched my fist, inching closer until I could clearly see all her features. Her long lashes were still against her fair skin, her lips slightly parted while she slept. Her body was encased by the sheets and the outline of her body was defined to the point of temptation.

Her hair was sprawled on the pillow and I twitched at the thought of pulling her roots until she was crying and choking on her words. I exhaled my anger, then opted to slice some of her hair off. I took my time to inhale her shampoo then count each strand in order to calm myself before I did something very impulsive.

When I finally got to five hundred and eight, I pushed the hair into my pocket then returned my attention to her. She had absolutely no right to sleep this peacefully while her father roamed the Earth with unforgivable sins that she was linked to. She had no right to sleep when others were suffering and being abused in every shape and form.

She had no right at all.

I unconsciously traced my switchblade against her neck, then began to apply pressure as I moved up her jaw to her cheek. Small beads of sanguine blood formed on the trail and I exhaled again, retracting my hand and watching a small droplet trickle down her porcelain skin to the corner of her lips.

Impulsively, I leaned down to follow and soothe the trail with my tongue, hating myself for tainting her beautiful skin like this. The tangy, metallic taste piqued my tastebuds and I sucked gently, getting more blood from the thin, geometric wound.

I moved down to her lips, licking the corner and groaning at the softness of her lips. I wanted to taste her so bad, but I wasn’t supposed to. I hadn’t been able to do so at the slopes and the urge to devour her mouth gripped me like a deadly vice.

I exhaled slowly against them, taking note of her regular breathing. She was such a deep sleeper, it fascinated me. After making sure she has no signs of consciousness, I brushed my lips lightly against hers, wagging my tongue slowly over the bottom one. My body trembled at the glorious feel of her feathery lips.

I was now half-mast and leaking of arousal. I pulled away from her, gathering all my wits to stay away from the enemy. I'd been doing this for years now: luring beautiful women into a trap then killing them when they fell for it. I never felt anything for them, so what was this all about?

Yasmina was supposed to be another beautiful girl to murder, but my willpower to do so was crumbling bit by bit. I looked out the windows for a minute then turned back to her.

I was still throbbing and pulsing, and my boy was so ready to tear through Yasmina’s pussy, but we couldn’t do that. It was risky. I cursed at myself for not leaving when I sensed danger, because then, Yasmina whimpered in her sleep.

The sound was so fucking sweet and unholy, I wanted to bite her. Red filled my vision as my sex beast thrashed within me.

My brain shut down the moment I pulled her sheets down and gazed at her thick thighs that her nightie didn’t conceal. My hand trembled as I pushed the silky nightie up slightly to see her sexy fucking panties shaping her little pussy.

I adjusted myself through my pants, taking deeper breaths as the scent of her pussy permeated the air. She was probably having a dirty dream. Using my switchblade, I cleanly cut through the strings on her hips, then skilfully pulled the material from between her legs. She softly moaned at that and I bit my tongue, palming my dick through my trousers.

Holy fucking shit.

I brought the damp material to my nose, the urge to consume her to death overwhelming me.

I involuntarily groaned, opening an eye to make sure the unexpected sound didn’t wake her. I nuzzled my nose further in her feminine smell, darting my tongue out to taste her. God, she tasted like the Heaven I will never get to see.

I pulled out my strained cock, breathing harshly as I rose all the way to my abdomen. I was harder than I’d ever been my entire life. I took the panties and placed the wet middle against my tip, quivering at the feel of her warmth and wetness. I tilted my head back as I began to stroke myself, imagining how hot and tight Yasmina’s pussy was just a few inches away.

I wanted her so much that I hated her. I was not supposed to crave her this much.

I wanted to eat Yasmina out while she was unconscious…like now. And I would in due time the moment she gave me the go ahead.

My strokes were long and rough as I pictured her legs spread so fucking wide, tears running down her face while I tainted her, my cum filling her tiny pussy to the brim. I went faster, the precum collecting on the panties as I bit my lip, drawing blood from the action.

My body pulled taut when I looked at Yasmina and came instantly; it was almost embarrassing. I was always in control, but not today. I fisted the panties over my tip, soaking the material so much that it dripped onto my hand.

I wanted to slit her throat for altering my brain chemistry. I was tempted to release in her mouth and watch her choke to death in her sleep.

She would look so sexy.

I trailed my fingers over her bottom lip and painted it with our unproportionate combination. I fisted the material then finally moved away from her and tucked myself in. It was time to leave before things got out of hand.

And before I shut the door, I noticed her lick her bottom lip.

I was having a splendid morning.

It had gone far too well, actually. I almost thought my demons had been sent back to Hell. The previous night in Yasmina’s room had done wonders.

But of course, that wasn’t a daily occurrence in my life. And everything returned to normal when I entered the boys’ bathroom.

Actually, my bad mood began when I realised that I had lost one strand of Yasmina’s hair. I had five hundred and seven now. I had breathed through the fury, but turns out, I wasn’t going to keep it together after all.

There was a number in the bathroom mirror, and it caught my eye immediately. I was going to ignore it, I really was, but the sequence was too familiar to overlook.

I moved closer to the massive mirror, ignoring my reflection as I checked my phone to confirm.

It was Yasmina’s number. I knew it like the back of my head, but a part of me had hoped this wasn’t hers.

Underneath it was some text that made me ball my fists.

Great fuck, text her.

I felt my muscles tighten in anger. It was a subtle reflex, but so intense I almost shattered the mirror in one blow.

How many assholes had taken her number and dared to call her?

I pulled out my phone and intercepted all her unsaved number texts to my phone with one glide of my finger. My phone began to vibrate uncontrollably the moment I did, so I set it on silent.

I was going to deal with ever motherfucker who had the guts to copy her number down. They clearly needed a moral compass and I was willing to carve one out on each of them.

That aside, I moved to a file of all her past enemies and current ones. Even those she didn’t even know. I knew her better than she knew herself.

I had so many ways to find out who this person was, but I was going to use a simple method. It was all too easy to find out who had done this. They weren’t smart enough to cover their tracks and it was an advantage on my part.

I scrolled through all their handwriting samples of their letter ‘f’, which was always so distinct and different throughout the academy. The more calligraphic, the more intellectual.

But this was a basic ‘f’, so I found the culprit within seconds. William. My jaw ticked. He was a recurring variable. He was the same person who had stolen her headphones and I knew exactly who was sending him.

Paul. A guy who couldn’t take Yasmina’s no for an answer.

He was too much of a coward to destroy her reputation on his own. But what he didn’t know was that his lay in my palm. One inward flex of my fingers and he’d fade back to dust. I made a mental note to pay him a friendly visit.

I checked William’s timetable and his usual hangout spots: the library, the school bar, Marriane’s room, the slopes, and his own dormitory. He barely had a social life, but he tried. He just wanted to fit in. Poor thing, he didn’t even know that his sweet Marriane was pursuing me like a lost puppy.

I could have easily caused havoc in the school, but I didn’t have that kind of luxury. None of them intrigued me the way Yasmina did.

So, I took a bottle of methylated spirit from my pocket and some paper towel from the roller, then wiped everything from the glass. My veins pulsed with so much white-hot anger, I had to inhale deeply and exhale some of that testosterone before I did something I'd regret.

Someone was going to die. And I would never run out of ways to make it look suicidal.

Yasmina was mine to annoy, mine to agitate. Mine to fucking talk to.

A part of her found me attractive and I had seen it a couple of times in her eyes when she wasn’t careful enough.

I left the bathroom in a blur and headed straight to the library, ignoring all the stares I always received. William worked hard, but for others.

The librarian didn’t dare to check me in or say something, instead, letting me through to the massive library. She was scared, too, another advantage on my part.

I walked through the third aisle, visualising exactly where William was. I wasn’t going to kill him, though, no. I was feeling generous, a rare occurrence, might I add.

I was simply going to have a chat with him then let him go. Hopefully.

I caught sight of him and with silent stealth, I stood right behind him, calmly waiting for him to acknowledge my presence. It didn’t take long before goosebumps began to form on his neck, despite the massive heaters installed all around the library.

William didn’t dare to turn back, instead pretending like I wasn’t there. He knew who was behind him, and he knew he was up shit creak without a fucking paddle. The stifling silence stretched like rubber band then snapped at my mercy.

“Get up, before I have to do it for you.” My cold, robotic tone made him shiver, and he immediately got up, following me to one of the dark corners of the room.

“W-What happened?” His eyes darted around, his tiny brain scrambling for a solid explanation as to why I had him cornered with a deathly, venomous glare like this.

“You don’t happen to be the one who wrote something in the bathroom, do you?” I spoke calmly, but the ice in my voice gave him a clue of exactly why we were here.

“N-No?—”

“Lie to me one more time, and I won't be speaking with words.” My hand found his throat, squeezing with pressure that had him gasping for oxygen.

“It wasn’t on purpose, I-I swear. Paul made me do it,” he blurted, selling his best friend out to save his ass.

Talk about fucking friendship.

“I know that. So why did you?” I looked down at him since I was way taller than him.

“He threatened m-me. I'm sorry, man, I'm sorry. I didn’t know she was yours?—”

“Shut the fuck up.” My dark voice was almost demonic and now he was hyperventilating with fear. “Give me the headphones.”

“M-My bag.” He was shaking like a leaf as I squeezed his neck a little harder, now crying uncontrollably. It was embarrassing. “Please don’t hurt me.”

A little too late for that. My switchblade was already running across his thigh with the glide of a paintbrush on a canvas as he held in a blood-curling scream.

"If you make a sound, I'll finish you off." I narrowed my eyes, using the edge of his t-shirt to clean his filthy blood from the blade. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to mentally escape this horror scene.

His blood was already pooling on the floor, but I could hardly give two flying fucks. No bloodshed was ever enough when it came to Yasmina.

“This is my final warning. If you ever, and I mean ever, breathe the same air as her or even think about her for a split millisecond, you'll follow the rest of your cousins six feet below. Don’t cross me.”

With that, I let him go then went to his bag. I found the headphones and inspected them, seeing that they were indeed tampered with. Just as I had suspected.

A listening device and a tracker. Motherfucker barely knew how to install one properly, so I spotted it within seconds. Then I took note of how he half damaged them from the outside, scraping the aluminium-like coating like an animal.

Paul must have done further damage to the hearing, but that was okay. With each move he made, his list of a thousand ways to die was growing longer.

I was going to have so much fun with that guy.

The library was eerily quiet when I walked away, and the librarian had made sure to hide behind her shelf so as not to capture my attention. The fact was she could be announced president and I wouldn’t flinch.

I ordered the exact same type of headphones in the same grey colour for a couple of thousands while I headed back to my room to get ready for the slopes. It had been a sold-out limited edition of headphones, but my hacking skills got me anything.

I tested out the old ones and sure enough, the sound quality was now shit. I calmly exhaled, removing the listening device. His stupidity fascinated me beyond measure.

All I did was chuckle before crushing it under my boot. I deactivated the tracker then flushed it down the toilet along with the listening device.

There.

All done.

My heart fluttered in excitement when I thought about going to the slopes for a snowboarding session. She was definitely showing up today.

We had unfinished business, after all. And I wasn’t going to back down for shit.