Chapter Eight.
The following morning drew evermore closer, and dawn hung about slowly outside. Reaver was presumed asleep yet Angeline awake. She had almost leaped right out of her skin from the position she was in, having been pulled close to her bedmate, arms tightly wound around her waist. Her eyes opened and carefully she attempted to move his arms that were bound around her lower waist. "Awake, I see?" he muttered quietly, hot breath grazing the nape of her neck. Angeline shivered, hunching her shoulders up to stop herself, "I shouldn't have done that," she whispered to herself, "It was wrong and disrespectful..." Reaver merely rolled his deep burnished eyes, "If it was wrong then why did you enjoy it so much?" he retorted. Angeline sighed fiercely and attempted to pry his arms from her once again. "Oh please, you were screaming my name as loud as you could, darling," he let her do so, and lay on his back with his arms behind his head; acting so roughly gave him a certain charm, despite being a suave, elegant gentleman. Reaver's eyes watched the girl as she sat up from the bed, feeling the after ache and the hopefully temporary volts of pain shooting through her lower back and abdomen. A smirk played on his lips, he'd hurt her still. He adored pain, especially physical pain. Angeline had dealt with so much in the past ten days, maybe she should have been cut some slack with all the aggression and death and deceit.
His eyes continued to watch her with interest. Angeline's figure as she stood up and went to collect her clothes from the ground. Then Reaver's eyes darted towards the seal that rested in his white overcoat pocket. It wasn't safe there. Still watching her, he glanced to his left, making sure his DragonStomper .48 was still resting on the bedside table. A few minutes passed of silence and Angeline was dressed. She was still upset, due to the let down of seeing her father and the horror of the balverine afterwards. "I thought you'd be up for another round," Reaver smirked. There was space beside him if she did want to consider, but instead she shook her head, walking towards the door and taking her satchel from the side, and also reaching into Reaver's overcoat pocket and sliding out the Dark Seal. "And what do you think you're doing?" Reaver questioned her. "Oh, I think I'm doing Albion a favour here, Reaver. I think we've all had enough of you oversupplying yourself with all these years of life and youth," Angeline twirled the seal within her hand, slipping it into her satchel. Reaver chuckled with cunning, sitting up in the bed to get dressed. "Really? That's what you think innocent little Reaver has been doing all this time?" he enquired the young lady as he got dressed, only into his trousers and boots. "Of course that's what I think you've been doing. You've been stealing the lives of hundreds of innocent people all these years. It's not right, Reaver," Angeline proceeded to leave out the door, unlocking it and quickly striding out.
Reaver merely sighed and stood up, stretching his arms back behind his head as well as his back. His hand reached for his pistol that sat on the bedside table, and with a twirl he stuck it back into it's loyal leather holster before he too left the room. Angeline was scurrying down the many stairs towards the large double doors that led to the exit. "Now now my brunette beauty. I can't have you taking things that don't belong to you." Reaver shot one accurate bullet that sliced right through the satchel's strap, causing it to tear and fall to the ground. The seal rolled out from the suede of the small bag. Angeline stuttered to the side due to the surprise and shock of it all. Reaver smiled and slowly descended the staircase with the pistol in hand, twirling it with only the slightest of ease, only a trait this fearful man could possess for show and display. "Don't attempt to trick me out of this, Angeline. You'll only fail. Miserably," he stopped at the foot of the stairs, watching as she clambered after the seal. Reaver laughed with amusement, firing the gun aimlessly around the girl's heels. Angeline simply scowled as she scooped up the seal once again, turning to face him with the seal in her hands. "Why do you want to stay like this forever? Do you think living a long life is good? Let alone fair on other people?" she asked questionably, tilting her head to the side. "Questions, questions, questions! One at a time, I'm only human," Reaver smirked a similar cheshire grin over a pale face, head lifting high as he sauntered towards her. "Firstly, I want to stay this way because I like it this way. Secondly, I think it's very good. Great, wondrous, magnificent even. And thirdly, well, let's just state that I don't care much for other people as I do for myself," Reaver informed as he circled her challengingly.
Angeline growled and spun around to race out of the door, yet he caught her wrist yet again. "Reaver, let me go!" she shouted at the top of her voice, pulling as hard as she could. The Hero didn't let go, he didn't budge at all, "Calm down, flower. We don't want your wrist to break now, do we? Not with those magical hands of yours," he snickered. Angeline hissed, managing to duck out of the way of Reaver before she spun around, only to be faced with the barrel of the gun pressed to her forehead. "I don't want to pull the trigger, but you're so persistent, I think I might just have to," Reaver clicked it daringly. "Persistent? I'm attempting to get rid of your stupid seal. You're a horrible man," Angeline scowled right at his face. Reaver tilted his head aside softly, "Such words, they're just as painful as being shot in the temple, as much as I would hate to my sweet. You're pushing me. How about we think things over again, I could take you even higher than last night. I work wonders," he let a sly wink flutter from his dark lashed eyes. Everything about the man was dark, nobody liked him yet he had the nerve to question such reasons. "Shoot me if you must, if you wish to protect your foolishness," Angeline murmured. "Hand over the seal and I won't," he requested, holding out a bare hand. With a huff, the girl took the seal from her satchel, and hesitantly handed it back to Reaver. He nodded and grinned, lightly tapping her on the head with the barrel of his gun, "There there, that's a good girl," he said, quickly examining the seal. "Very well. I don't have much else planned for the day, dearest. How about a another personal invite to my private quarter, hmm? I am feeling rather aroused by all this teasing," Reaver chuckled, watching as Angeline made her way towards the large double doors. "Maybe another time, Reaver. Maybe another time," and with a sigh, the young lady left the manor. Still she couldn't believe that man. He was so confident yet totally unphased by everything that had happened. Did he have feelings other than annoyance, lust and cruelty? That girl had lost her father because of this man, because of his need for pleasure. Self indulgence. Gratification. He took satisfaction from other people's suffering.
"Well, you know where to find me if you're up for another round, Angeline, my sweet."