Layla was on her feet the moment she realized what was happening. She knew this feeling anywhere, one she had become used to over the years. Kneeling into a bow, she ignored the growing puddle of blood at her feet.
"Mouthy women," His voice an eerie whisper as he turned the woman's head between his palms, playing with her hair. "Layla," Cold gray eyes slithered into her direction, slow and creepy. A chill filled the room. Using his opposite hand, he made a gesture. Jane's body flung up from the ground like a puppet on strings. He put her head back on, making Jane smile. "Apologize."
"I apologize." Her mouth moved stiffly, a drowning gurgle in the back of her throat.
