Page 42 of Thunder with a Chance of Lovestruck
“You’ve never listened when I told you of our potential, dear niece,” he said without an ounce of warmth in his voice.
I edged back more, wanting distance between us.
He stepped forward, and my heart thundered in my chest, beating so fast and furiously that it was almost deafening. “You’re like your father. Short-sighted. He refused to see the greatness that is our legacy.”
My mind swam with various things he could mean. I went with the obvious choice. “You mean what Victor did?”
He looked me over from head to toe in a way that left me feeling as if I’d walked through a mass of spiderwebs. He smirked as I shuddered. “Dear niece, Victor is just one aspect of our legacy.”
“What he did was wrong,” I said, my voice low, though I wasn’t sure why. Shouting and alerting others that Nile was alone with me would have been the smarter move. “Even he admits as much now.”
“He’s grown soft with age,” said Nile, fire burning in his dark eyes. “He achieved greatness. He’s legendary.”
If I’d ever had a doubt about how diabolical the man was, it would have faded away then and there. Reasoning with him wasn’t an option. Maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe he was insaneandevil.
He took another step toward me, and I bumped into the prosecutor’s table, causing the pitcher of water to tip and spill. Water splashed onto the floor as the pitcher rolled. It stopped just shy of falling off the edge and teetered there.
As my attention returned to my uncle and away from the mess on the floor, I found he was nearly nose-to-nose with me now. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his hands were free.
There was no time for me to wonder how he’d managed to get out of the cuffs. He grabbed me. One hand went behind my head, the other covered my mouth as he forced me to lean back over the table.
I pushed at him, but he, like all the men in our family, was big and powerful. I yanked at his wrist as his hand muffled my scream. Fear slammed through me.
Nile sniffed my face and hair. “We could have been great, too. You and me—together. Your short-sightedness will leave you like your father—dead. You side with the Nightshade Clan, thinking they’re right about us. They’re not.”
I was at his mercy, and he knew it.
“You think they have your best interest at heart, niece?” he asked, his tone mocking. “Where are they now? It’s just you and me.”
I pleaded with my eyes for him to stop.
He leaned in closer, sniffing me. “At least you stopped stinking of Hunter. I know the one who used you and discarded you denies ever having touched you. What did you see in him?”
I couldn’t have answered even if I’d wanted to. Not with the firm hold he had over my mouth and on the back of my head.
“I was willing to give you the world,” he said, rubbing his cheek against mine. “But you picked him over me.”
I managed the slightest shakes of my head. I’d have never picked him. Ever.
He increased the pressure on the back of my head before sliding his hand down to the back of my neck. “Do you understand how fragile life is? How in an instant, it can be taken?” He sniffed me again. “Or given? I could kill you here and now and then, I could bring you back. Control you. Your mind. Your body.”
I changed my vote. He was certifiable.
“Your brother understands,” he said, sounding proud. “He’s cut from the same cloth as the greats in our family. You’ll never get it. You’re a problem starter just like your father had been. Do you want to meet the same fate?”
Me? I was the problem starter? He’d hacked up dead bodies and collected their parts for who knows what and he was calling me a problem starter? That was rich.
He applied more pressure as he held me. “Is that it, Rachael? Do you hunger for the end? I can grant you that as well as a rebirth.”
My nostrils flared as anger began pushing fear out of the way within me.
Nile grinned. “When I bring you back, I’ll put you in the white dress I bought you. The one I learned your brother’s bitch of a wife intercepted. She’s who kept the gift from getting to you.”
I still had no idea what he was talking about when it came to a white dress, and I didn’t care.
“It’s a wedding dress, Rachael,” he whispered. “And will be the perfect thing for you to wear when I resurrect you. But to come back from the dead, you must first die. This is where your brother differs with me—for now. Later, once it’s done, he’ll see how perfect it is. We can all be a family. We can make the Frankenstein name great again.”
There was no way in hell I was going to let that happen. In fact, if I lived through whatever this was, I fully intended to draft a will that demanded I be cremated so no crazy family member could reassemble me and shoot electricity through me to bring me back.
