Chained by Celia Crown

Author:Celia Crown [Crown, Celia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-02T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Damon

When I come out of the elevator with Hera, she has a skip in her steps that bounces throughout the walk. The freight elevator closes loudly before it’s being pulled back down to the first level, and that doesn’t sit right with me because elevators only go down when the button is pushed, and no one should be out this late into the night.

The building under my feet is a hotel that from where one could see a sea of lights at night, and the air is thinner, fresher than the stench of spilled beer and old cheese from a nearby restaurant.

I have been following Hera around all day. We have been to multiple places where she received packages from people who are notorious for their illicit activities. My time in the underground world has opened my eyes to people who do much more than heinous crimes, but seeing the young, cheerful girl greet a woman with the sharp edge of a sword as a replacement for her lost leg is another.

The woman tried to cut Hera’s head off with one clean swipe of her leg, but agile, little Hera dodges with ease.

It was eight at night when we got up to the hotel’s roof, and she isn’t here to sightsee the breezy city of Philadelphia; her goal is the hotel directly in competition with this one.

She skips towards the ledge and leans over to look towards the ground, and if I was her enemy, I would have taken this chance to push her down.

Hera is too vulnerable at times, and she doesn’t even realize.

“Come here!” she squeals, waving her hands wildly.

Noting the area is empty with a wide range of space, she chooses this space to take the violin case from my hand. This has been in my possession starting at lunchtime where she scarfed down a messy plate of salmon; she says she needs it for her eyesight and fish has Omega-3 to aid visions.

I should have known what her intentions were when she said that because today is a planned even where her signature of eerie tunes come out. I picked up on her subconscious habits. She sings when she’s in the mood to play a game.

The case opens with disassembled pieces of a sniper rifle. I can add that to her impressive resume. I distantly wonder what she can’t do.

She assembles the weapon by seasoned hands; she’s clicking the rifle in place on the ledge and standing to stretch.

She wiggles her perky, little ass and giggles, “Are you excited?”

I meet her eyes when she looks over her shoulder, “You haven’t told me who you’re going to kill.”

“Not kill, Damon,” Hera’s grin broadens; a glint of a devil behind those eyes laughs at my naivety.

She’s not here to kill with a sniper rifle that can hit a target miles away, but she’s here to play a game with whoever her unfortunate target is.

Abel is the only person that comes to my mind.

Hera pats her ass, and

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