Chapter 66: Obnoxious Snort.
The deserted ice caves were lifeless and cold. Ancient blue ice stretched high above them, their smooth surfaces reflecting the pale light from outside.
Vincent walked a few steps ahead before finally coming to a stop. Without the slightest ceremony, he slipped the large burlap sack from his shoulder and allowed it to drop onto the frozen ground.
"Well then," he said, wearing the satisfied smile of a man about to unveil a masterpiece. "You remarked earlier that there remained a considerable possibility Leslie never perished at all. If that proves to be the case, then there is, fortunately for us, one individual within the camp who is uniquely qualified to settle the matter."
Damien remembered saying that, though it had been little more than a passing thought, he’d learned to question everyone and everything. Especially people. They were rarely what they appeared to be.
Vincent crouched down and untied the sack before casually emptying its contents onto the frozen ground. He looked back at Damien with an unmistakably proud smirk, as though patiently waiting to be showered with admiration for another job well done.
Instead, Damien’s face froze.
"Shit... why do I always find myself in situations where I have to kill somebody?"
Damien had already accepted that Vincent wasn’t exactly normal. In fact, he’d made peace with that conclusion. But this was an entirely different calibre of insanity.
Almost on cue, Naomi’s eyes slowly fluttered open. Her wrists and ankles had been bound together with a makeshift rope, and the moment her gaze landed on Damien and Vincent, her expression immediately twisted with anger.
"What the hell is going on here?"
A sharp pain suddenly throbbed at the back of her head, and the memories came flooding back. Vincent had approached her without a word. The instant she turned around, he’d used his ability before calmly smashing something, probably a rock against the back of her skull.
"Damn you, Vincent. What’s the meaning of this?"
Vincent merely smiled with perfect innocence, offering no explanation whatsoever.
Damien remained comfortably seated in his wheelchair. Whatever madness was unfolding here should have absolutely nothing to do with him or so he hoped.
The very next moment, Naomi’s dark glare shifted onto him.
"Shit... this is bad. We definitely can’t let her go after this. How did Vincent even manage to abduct a member of the Round Table? Why wasn’t she more cautious? Well regardless, this is kinda impressive, Vincent."
Naomi’s glare felt like daggers stabbing into Damien’s chest.
"Since when did you two become friends?"
"Since today. Why do you ask?" Vincent answered proudly, which only made Damien’s shattered heart sink even further.
"Is it possible for you to consider me kidnapped as well?" Damien asked with a defeated sigh.
Naomi smirked coldly.
"No."
"Oh well, that settles it."
Damien attempted to wheel himself closer, but Vincent suddenly rested a hand on the handle of his wheelchair, bringing him to a stop.
"I wouldn’t do that if I were you. That ability of hers is particularly unpleasant."
Damien understood exactly what Vincent meant, so he quietly pushed his wheelchair backwards instead, putting a little more distance between them. As his cold blue eyes settled on Naomi, she instinctively felt a chill crawl down her spine. It wasn’t because she feared Damien, but because those emotionless eyes made it impossible to tell what he was thinking.
"Dormant Ability, Meld. Everything I know about it comes from the rumours floating around camp, and those are seldom accurate. The members of the Round Table rarely allow anyone besides their closest allies to truly understand how their Dormant Abilities work. Even Ryan, who’s painfully naïve, barely revealed anything about his. I should expect to be surprised by hers."
Damien’s thoughts suddenly came to a halt as another question surfaced.
"How is that rope holding you? Why not escape and kill us?"
Naomi didn’t answer. Instead, the glare she directed at Vincent only intensified, carrying enough hostility that Damien almost felt sorry for him.
Damien glanced sideways at Vincent, and just as he expected, a portion of the man’s eyes had turned pitch black. He was using Deadlock or at least a fraction of it.
"If you could freeze her in place, then you can also kill her?". Damien asked Vincent, but surprisingly, he shook his head.
"If we do come to blows, she will almost certainly keep her Dormant Ability active throughout the engagement, which considerably diminishes the efficacy of my Deadlock. However, should I manage to land a clean strike, I have every confidence that I shall crush her soul."
Damien shrugged. It wasn’t a perfect explanation, but he could live with it.
Naomi, on the other hand, merely let out a cold chuckle.
"You fools actually think you can beat me in a fair fight? Look away from me for just a second, and let’s put that theory to the test."
Damien wasn’t interested in wasting time trading insults with her, so he got straight to the point.
"Why did you send your sister, Leslie, and Paige to try and kill me during the scouting mission?"
One of Vincent’s pitch-black eyes shifted towards Damien for the briefest moment before returning to Naomi.
Naomi frowned slightly before replying venomously.
"You killed Paige, didn’t you? And you tried to kill Leslie, but you couldn’t because she only sent her clones on the mission."
Damien’s expression didn’t change in the slightest.
"I’m the one asking the questions, Naomi. I suggest you answer truthfully instead of wasting my time with baseless accusations." His cold blue eyes remained fixed on her. "I’ll ask you one more time. Why did you send your sister and her friend to try and kill me?"
Naomi would’ve shrugged if Vincent hadn’t restrained her, so she settled for an obnoxious snort instead.
"Why are you questioning me? You should’ve kidnapped Andrea instead. She knew exactly what they were trying to do, and she even helped them set the stage." A cruel smile spread across her face. "It’s a shame they failed."