The Djinn and the Vartija, part VI

Muritage

“How would you like to die?”

The question rolled off my tongue, leaving a bitter taste behind. I could simply break the chain holding her to the cliff and allow her to fall, or I could snap her neck. Drown by water molecules combining within her lungs, or roast internally. Any of these techniques were available to me, but I would allow her to choose.

It doesn't make this easier, my first kill...

Silence stretched for some time as she thought. I was in no hurry, listening to her heart beat under my hand. I had scarcely noticed my hand drift to her chest. But now I focused on the beat of her heart. It had slowed, as if she had finally accepted what had to happen.

“Muritage.”

She spoke my name, I looked at her face. Into her eyes.

“You've decided.”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“My death,” Her free hand came up, pinning my hand to her chest. “might actually be yours.”

There was something digging into the back of my palm, something in her hand.

I couldn't tear my gaze from her eyes, or my hand from her grasp.

She's in my head.

I could feel her, entering through our linked gazes. But I could also feel her. Through this connection, her heart was left open.

Open and unguarded.

As she worked through my mind, I found the path that had brought her into me, and followed it back to it's source.

Her heart.

Emotions, power, it resided here. She was changing me, bending my will to hers. But I wouldn't go without a fight.

“You might make me into a servant, but I will hold your heart.”

With the remaining willpower I had, I found the well of her power, the key to her heart.

And claimed it for myself.