The Powerful Pride of an Immortal (Immortal Supers Book 4) by Kurtis Eckstein (ebook reader for surface pro .TXT) 📗

I honestly didn’t know how I felt right now. I was trying not to feel. Not to think. Because I’d just witnessed her kill emotionlessly, with no remorse at all. It was unnerving to think there was no regret or hesitation.

A cold-blooded killer.

It needed to be done, and yet, the way she did it really bothered me. Not that I would have been any nicer, although I might have done it a lot faster. Then again, when I thought about what this man was actually responsible for, there was a part of me that wanted to torture the bastard.

Yet he already looked so helpless.

I supposed appearances could really be deceptive. And I supposed what she did just now was what I’d have to steel my nerves for as well, in order to keep my family safe. Certainly, this wasn’t the first time I’d taken someone’s life, but this was my first time experiencing a killing like that.

Putting the car in autopilot again, and leaning my head back, I stared into space for a few seconds, just trying to figure out what we were supposed to do now. I assumed that Jackie would want us to come back and give her a debriefing of what happened. Probably Winter would have to provide them with a written report too, since she was the one who identified and killed the target.

Shit! What in the hell did I even do?!

Nothing! I did absolute shit!

Glancing at Winter, feeling apologetic now, I unexpectedly stared at her in shock when I realized she had tears silently streaming from her pale green eyes.

“Hey,” I said gently, only to receive no response. She was just staring straight ahead with that same empty expression, minus the tears.

And then it hit me.

I thought again about what I’d just witnessed, watching her push the knife in slowly as if…as if…

As if jabbing the knife in him would be like ripping a bandage off – as if doing it slowly made it easier…

On her.

Shit!

“Winter,” I said in shock as it all finally dawned on me. “Can you feel it? Can you feel people dying? Their pain, their terror, their panic?”

“It’s fine,” she said in a monotone.

Shit, I couldn’t believe it! How could I not have known?! I should have known! Dammit, I should have been the one to do it! I just wasn’t ready to come face-to-face with the fact that evil people had families! Families who they might love, who might love them back!

But that didn’t make them any less evil! That didn’t make them any less dangerous!

Shit!

A wave of sorrow immediately washed over me, almost suffocating me. But we were still linked. She was still latched on. And in response, that same sorrow washed over her, a crippling agony twisting her face as she rapidly fell apart.

Just like that, her exterior crumbled.

Suddenly, it was like she was having a panic attack.

Her body began shaking, her chest began hitching, the tears began flowing, with her literally beginning to sound like she was choking as she started hyperventilating.

Panicking at having just experienced her own death.

Without hesitation, I pushed my seat back, only to reach over and grab her with both my arms and astral limbs, twisting her around and pulling her into my lap, holding her as tightly as I could.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, the sound of her sobs crushing my heart, which I knew was only making it worse for her. “I’m so sorry.”

She finally wiggled her butt between my thighs, forcing my legs apart to lower herself to the seat, and buried her head against my upper chest, her black hair shoved up against my chin, sobbing and whimpering incessantly. I did my best to control my own emotions while she cried, just holding her tightly, but it was difficult.

Shit. I should have known. I shouldn’t have hesitated.

Although, now that I thought about it, would it have even mattered? After all, whether I killed him, or she did, she would still be able to sense his thoughts, along with his associated emotions. And here I’d thought she was a cold-blooded killer.

Instead, she was just doing everything she could to keep it together while she did what needed to be done. To protect us.

By the time she finally began calming down, we were already almost halfway back home – yeah, two hours. She sobbed uncontrollably for two hours. The worst of it was only in the first ten minutes, but she continued to cry even after that.

And I couldn’t blame her. I sincerely had no idea what it would feel like to die – or more specifically, what it would feel like to be killed when you wanted to live. But obviously it was traumatizing. And I imagined that the trauma of being killed was why she inserted the knife so slowly, because her own desire for self-preservation was fighting her every step of the way.

To kill him was to experience killing herself, making each millimeter a fight against every fiber of her being.

And in my opinion, even while she was sobbing now in my arms, I felt like what she’d done was actually more badass and braver than if she’d killed him in cold blood. A self-sacrifice, to protect others.

Still, very traumatizing though.

By the time she did begin settling down, it was more like her body was just done, rather than her truly being over it. Like she was just too exhausted to continue. A random uncontrolled sob would still hit her every few minutes, but otherwise she just stared into space, her head resting against my shoulder since my chest was soaked with tears and snot.

She didn’t budge an inch otherwise.

At least, not until her phone began vibrating in her pocket.

She pulled it out without looking at it, only to focus on the screen and answer, immediately putting it on speakerphone. However, she didn’t give any kind of greeting.

It was Jackie’s voice that spoke up.

“Winter?”

“Yes.”

There was a deep breath. “Shit, you