MY DARLING DAREDEVIL

Detective Bishop Grey

Aziza stood up on her feet and glared at the man who just walked in. Her blood pumped through her veins and her hands tightened into a fist in an instance. The office went quiet as everyone stared at the scene, in bliss. A lot of them were jealous, jealous of the favour and attention, they could see that she had already been favoured by the boss, not to add the face, the face of the red hair she carried. No one was sure that she was not the same woman and they all felt like she did not deserve to be there. she had committed a crime and more, she needed to be killed as well for the lives she had taken. The way she had taken laws into her hand and the blood she had spilled. She needed to be taken out of the streets of New Orleans, so everyone could feel safe. They were not foolish or ignorant, videos and speculation of what she could actually do had reached their ears. They could not feel safe with someone like that walking the same street as them. One angry word or curse to her would officially end their lives, a bad look or a glare from them might take away their eyes. She was deadly, the red hair was dangerous and she scared them. No one was ready to confirm if she was the one or not, but she had to leave and they were more than happy to see the cops.

“On what ground?” Ivy voiced out, her heart beating loudly inside her chest. For she never saw the cops coming in at any point in time. They were never in the picture and never part of her plans, but now that they were there, there was no way she could allow them to take her. She refuses to be locked up in a small cage ever again but knowing how humans could be. Their curiosity, stupidity and selflessness were their end. They would never leave even if she spills all their blood right there and then. But that was not all, Damon was not supposed to know that Ivy and Aziza were one and the same. She simply had a responsibility to him and would not want them to be as close, no other person was supposed to know that they were one and the same and if she spills blood, then the truth she was trying so hard to hide would be nothing.

“Don’t be such a pretender,” the man said and stepped forward with that same smile on his face. He looked like he only just won a trophy, a trophy that was about to get him killed. But that smile was only a deceit, for his eyes, his eyes were dark and hateful. It contained so much resentment, so much anger and rage, that she was beginning to wonder what she had done to get him so upset.

“I honestly don’t,” she flashed him a smile as well, seeing the very game he was playing. Two could play such games of pretence, hate, rage and finally death. She had seen that trick one, two many times. The villain smiles warmly, making the victim relaxed and feel safe, whereas he was doing that to lure her in, make her feel that it was all fine, make her feel that he was not dangerous. Once her guard was down, once she felt it was nothing, then he would lace her with his venom. The experience was too familiar, for she had an aunt who derived pleasure in killing her so slowly. The man’s face hardened into a scowl instantly and she smiled broadly at him. she had expected that he would play that game much longer for she only just got started.

“I’m not here to play games, Sheridan,” he growled and signalled his hand in the air. The cops in uniform behind him instantly moved forward, but slowly as they all pointed their guns at her. The way they obeyed made everyone see the authority he had, so he was probably a cop with a higher position. Every other employee moved out of the way, ready to give her to the cops that wanted her so badly without a fight.

“You can’t take me,” she crossed her hand over her chest still with that same smile on her face. But her heart was beating too fast and adrenaline was pumping straight into it. The guns and the men approaching her were making her uneasy and her stupid canines were biting and itchy with the need for blood slowly kicking in. A bad habit that she got accustomed to over the years. Being partly everything that the supernatural could have, she never had the craving for blood or hated the sun. But when faced in danger or when annoyed or pissed, the urge and hunger for blood kicked in.

“Why?” The cop who was in charge took a step forward with his eyes fixed on her.

“Because you would kill us all,” he smirked.

“No, but I would surely cause you a pain greater than death,” her thoughts answered.

“No,” she dropped her hands from her chest and placed them on her side, hiding her fist behind her desk and trying so hard to control her annoyance.

“I’m not a murderer and can’t possibly kill anyone, not to mention, it’s against the law,” she lied smoothly. The man scoffed and shook his head as he took a look around quickly till it came back to her.

“You seem to be an actress,”

“I would have so much fun with you,” he rubbed his both hands together and licked his lips. Her heart skipped and memories kicked in. Her blood boiled with even more rage and her powers kicked against her skin, wishing to come out already and have a taste of the man speaking. This time she would not use a gun, or a dagger, but her teeth.

“Take her now, I do not have time for her evil games,” he yelled at the cops who were still approaching her rather carefully. She turned her gaze to them and they stopped in their tracks instantly. The fear they felt filled her nostrils and her lips stretched into a smile.

“What are you doing?” he growled again at them.

“I said take her,” he yelled and pushed the one closer to him forward. Yet no one moved. The smile still remained on her lips as her eyes met that of each and everyone of them. They saw the darkness in her eyes and also knew the stories that came with her, they were scared and she was not helping matters.

“Y’all are a disgrace to the uniform,” he roared when no one moved and pushed them aside as he charged towards her. Her eyes moved away from the scared cops and met him as he stalked towards her like a prey, a very foolish one who was after food and not safety. His hunger was driving him mad that he never laid sight of the predator who was laying still, within her, ready to attack. Her blood was pumping faster and her rage, hunger and anger had already decided for her what to do. If he wanted to die, he would and she could devise another plan to protect her prince. But one thing she was sure of, blood was about to flow.

His eyes held hers in anger, there was no fear within, no reluctance but only hate and it was his driving force. His hands went to his back and when they came back out to her view, cuffs came with him. He stopped in front of her and immediately stretched his hand towards her to cuff her. Her demons and every other cursed thing she possessed within, waiting to strike as well the moment his hand touches hers.

The scent of one man suddenly hit her nose and the raw taste of his power came quickly, just at the same time the man’s hand was snatched right before it touched Aziza. Her heart skipped for a bit when the corner of her eyes caught Damon standing beside her. The room grew quieter, like a dead zone and everyone held their breaths. He glared at the man who was about to cuff Ivy and held his wrist really tight, so tight he was ready to snap his wrist with how angry he felt. But his headache kicked in, it ached him so bad, and for a moment it weakened him. Ivy stared at him, her eyes and heart filled with some kind of awe for his intervention, but his powers were so close, she could feel the pureness of it in the air.

Damon had heard the racket going on outside, because his security had pushed the button that enabled him hear what was going on outside. It was like one of the safety measures he put in after the last attack at his office and he had heard clearly all that was going on.

“Damon Roxwell,” the cop groaned in both pain and agitation when his hand was snatched away that way. He had seen the man on papers, blogs, tabloids and more, but never in person. Who knew that his rage would be rekindled even more when he finally met the beast himself? Damon flashed him a grin, a grin that made other cops shiver and moved away from him. Their colleagues had been killed by his said assassin, and nothing had ever been done to him. No hand had ever touched him and being in the same situation as the cops that were at the court just a few weeks back made them cringe in fear of their death.

“You know me?” he asked in a dreadful tone, a tone that caught strangely at Ivy’s heart.

“Of course, I know you,” the cop snatched his hand roughly away from his grip, almost injuring himself. Then he waved it in the air and took a step away from him unconsciously. Then he turned to Ivy. She felt his hostile gaze and took her eyes away from Damon and turned to the man who would have been dead if not for Damon’s good but bad intervention.

“A murderer as well,” the cop added and shifted his gaze back to Damon.

“Then you should know that you are either dead or about to be for being in the den of a murder,” he retorted. His voice, the complete contrast of what you would say was good, for it contained all the tone and sound of evil and wickedness within it. Aziza felt really proud for being the one to be standing right beside him. The cop laughed at that, his voice sounded grumpy, bad and empty in the quiet office where everyone simply watched the scene take place.

“You should not give out threats like that, Damon,” he took a bold step towards him.

“For if that’s a threat, I would hold you for it,” he added and ran his hand through the cuff he still held. Damon smirked, revealing a very deadly look just like his heart felt at that moment.

“Who are you?” he asked, knowing very well that the cops of that city would not match into his building that way. He smiled widely, excitement grew in his eyes, then he licked his lips.

“Bishop Grey,” he answered proudly.

“Detective of New Orleans criminal investigative division,” he added. Damon smiled, the name ringing a bell and everything coming together. Just yet another man out for revenge, and worse still, this one had legal powers.