Shadowglass

(Chris Cerulli's - Motionless POV)

Chris Cerulli lounges against the mirrored wall wreathed in green neon smoke, his black fedora tilted over unblinking eyes. He knows Sweet’s watching him. He doesn’t care. He watches the mirror pass from the blue fairy to Jinxx, and his skin ripples, warmth flooding his cold blood.

Leathery black webs crackle from the skin between his long pale fingers, slicing at his cigarette. He sucks in a nicotine lungful and grits his teeth hard to suppress the shift. Last night, Jinxx murdered Chris’s cousin, Angelo, boss of the Parente family. So now Jinxx’s business is Chris’s business, and Jinxx just showed a weakness that makes Chris want to crawl to the floor and slither.

Chris holds the smoke, adrenaline scintillating. Angelo would have liked this—the stalking, the shadows, the plots. His twisted sense of justice thrived on it; his jealous vampire nature devoured it. He’d have laughed that chaos-bright laugh, snorted a river of stinging fairy sparkle, and ghosted off to eat. Chris liked watching Ange eat. Liked the blood, the sighs, the way their skin paled as they emptied. Liked watching them gasp and fight and die, helpless. Liked to bug out, slide closer, rub his scales on their cooling bodies.

He exhales, smoke rolling. Angelo’s dead, murdered, brilliant life-blood sucked out by Jeremey’s cowardly bitch of a succubus. And the Parente matriarch despises Christopher.

He’s alone, and the Parente clan won’t bend to his will if he can’t show them what he’s made of.
He tosses his glowing cigarette away and taps his lacquered black cane on the metal floor to get Ashley’s (Ashley Costello - Banshee NOT Ashley Purdy - Firefae) attention. “See that?”

His mad banshee bodyguard yowls and stalks a few paces in her shiny black catsuit, her long spike-heeled boots kicking up sparks. “I see a fairy with a steel spike rammed so far up his ass, his teeth rust, and the luckiest hellspawn in town. I say we waste them.”

Chris smiles. She’s young, wired. A fresh counterpoint for his cold blood. “That metal ball is Sammi’s. She’ll want it back.”

Ash cartwheels, sleek ultramarine hair flying, her reflection a black blur in the mirror-tiled wall. She lands in a graceful crouch and cracks a grating banshee laugh, full green-painted lips curling. “Sammi, Samantha? That demon whore? We don’t need her, master. We Parentes owned this city once. We’ll own it again without no purple hellbitch to hide behind.”

Christpher’s sinuses vibrate sweetly with her movement. She’s no relation, but he doesn’t hold that against her. Ash is his protégée. She owes him her life. She’s the only person he dares trust.

The snake inside gnaws again, and he wets his lips with a forking tongue. Little stray girls grow up so fast. “Cruz can have Jinxx, and they’re stronger by the day. We need Samantha. If we can return that ball, she’ll owe us a favor. We’ll watch Jinxx, see what he does.”

Ashley spears Jinxx on a ruby-eyed glare, her black-sheened thighs quivering to spring. “Fuck that. Let’s kick his ass and take it.”
“Ever try kicking a demon’s ass, Ashley?”
“Always a first time—Ow, for fuck’s sake!”

Chris snakes out a black-scaled hand and locks her wrist tight. Minions need discipline. Especially the pretty ones.
She struggles, green nails clawing, but Chris’s stronger than he looks. Anger and desire swirl green in her crimson eyes.

“Angelo’s dead! Our cousin’s dead and them Cruz assholes did it. D’ya forget that? D’ya even care?”

Angry black spines spring from Chris’s shoulder blades inside his jacket, and he flings her hard into the mirror and rams his cane crosswise into her slender throat.

Her skull cracks into the glass. Shards tinkle on steel, and splinters pierce her blue hair. He stares, unblinking, inches from her eyes. No one questions his loyalty to the family. Not even Ash, who knows him better than most. “Say that to me again, and I’ll chew your nipples off.”

She pales. Scarlet trickles from her scalp, staining her forehead and running into her bell-pierced brow. Very fetching, glass in that fresh young skin. Chris likes the smooth slide of glass on his reptile tongue. Her leather-taut breasts press into him, her hip bones sharp and arousing. All that glass and blood make him hard. She’ll like that. He smiles, faint.

She flinches, and scrabbles for her knives. Chris jams the cane in harder, forcing her head back, and his poisoned black claws slice her straining forearm.

Her tight body quivers. She chokes, and her wrist tendons pop. Her knife clatters to the floor, her fingers numb, and a conciliatory hum gurgles in her throat. “I’m sorry—”

“I know you want to hunt down the brass-bangled slut who killed Angelo.” Chris’s hot breath wets her mouth. “I know you want to slit Simon Cruzs throat and watch him bleed. When we’ve won, you can do that. I promise. But to win, we need Samantha. Tell me why.”

She tastes trembling lips, tempting him. “But—”

“Why, Ashley?” Chris jams his thigh into her hot lap. She smells tasty, bleeding in broken glass over the delicate scent of female skin, and his sinuses quiver, pleasured. He wonders if she knows how long it can take for a snake to come.

She croons, seductive, nails scraping the glass at her sides. “Because you say so.”
“Yeah. Because I say so. Don’t cross me, little girl.”
“Yes, master.” She parts raw green lips and leans in.

For a moment he believes it, and their mouths mash together, shocking and bright with lust. She tastes of sugar, aching on his palate. Seductive song blossoms deep in her throat, the vibration stroking pleasure into his burning sinuses. The delicate forks of his tongue flicker in the tiny gaps between her teeth, and sensation sparks in his balls.

But it’s not right. She’s young, supple, attractive, and he’s an inhuman creature, black and twisted inside even when he hasn’t shifted. She’s lying. She has to be. Chris shoves his cane in tight one last time, just to taste her salty phlegm, and jerks away from her. Fuck.

She chokes and clutches the scarlet welt across her throat, glass fragments crunching beneath her heels. Her pretty voice cracks. “Jesus, Chris, you’re a real prick, you know that?”

Christopher flips his cane vertical and squelches his fingerwebs away, discomfort boiling his blood that he let her fool him even for an instant. He won’t allow it again, no matter how he craves her. “I pay you to fight for me, Costello. Not to fuck me. If you think you can screw your way out of taking a bullet, think again.”




(Jinxx POV)

A whiff of damp snakeskin slides in Jinxxs’s nose, and disgusted ash bursts from his Black hair to coat the bar.

He scratches at a stain on the bar with a sulky claw, gouging the glass deep. Stinky snakeshifter and his girl, plotting to tempt a demoness. Let him plot. Samantha, ex-mirror-owner, a saucy young newcomer with ambitions beyond her power.

A bug on Jinxx’s windshield, so petty, the demon court doesn’t even bother to tell him she’s here, and crafty blue Andrew Biersack had no trouble stealing this snarky mirror from under her jealous purple nose.

Sammi is trespassing. This is Jinxx’s city. Here, baubles belong to Jinxx. Everything belongs to Jinxx. Sammi should know that.

Notes

Didnt think that the little filler for you before was enough, so... here is another chapter!!! Remember, rate, review and subscribe.
-Stay weird baby bats
Grimm ;)