SERAPHINE
I don’t understand what just happened. First Leroi is making my skin heat and my core throb. Then he’s annoying again, and now I’m being put to bed like I’m fragile and he’s agreeing to everything I ask for.
Well, not everything.
He refused to let me into his room and didn’t believe me when I said I couldn’t sleep, which wasn’t even a complete lie. How am I supposed to relax when he’s plotting to kick me out on the street? Or at least I thought he was.
After tucking me in so tightly that I can’t move my arms, Leroi strokes my hair. The warmth of his fingers seeps into my skin and soothes my nerves. I don’t remember the last time someone touched me with so much care. Mom was always too busy to check in on me, and Gabriel acted like I was a pest. Whenever Dad was home, he always sat at my bedside and kissed me goodnight.
Tears well in my eyes and threaten to spill over. I’m no longer that little girl. My hands are saturated with blood, my soul is stained with gore, and I’ve been tainted by more men than I want to admit. But the way Leroi takes care of me awakens something in my heart I thought was long gone.
Maybe I still have a chance at being normal. Leroi is a killer, just like me, but he knows how to tread the line between darkness and light. He’s worth keeping alive, at least until he stabs me in the back.
My eyelids flutter close, and I let the warmth of his touch lull me to sleep. For the first time in over half a decade, I no longer feel so alone. This time when I sleep, there are no nightmares, not even a flashback. It’s as though Leroi has chased them all away with his imposing presence.
The next thing I know, I’m awakened by the scent of fried meat. Sunlight streams through my closed eyelids, Leroi’s cocoon of sheets still holding me in a warm embrace. It takes several tries to slide out of bed, but when I do, I feel awake and refreshed. When I emerge from my room, I find Leroi stepping out of the balcony, dressed in a white shirt unbuttoned to the sternum.
My gaze lingers on the muscles of his chest and travels up his strong neck to the vein pulsing at the base of his jaw.
He catches me staring and raises a brow. I drop my gaze, my cheeks heating.
“Steak and eggs hash,” he says.
My head snaps up. “What?”
He flicks his head toward the balcony before walking back to the kitchen. “I made breakfast.”
Leroi emerges seconds later, carrying two iron skillets. The first contains a frittata of potatoes and cabbage, while the second holds sizzling strips of steak, sliced peppers, and cherry tomatoes. The aroma fills the living room, and my stomach growls.
“Are those the vegetables I cut?” I ask.
He smirks. “You make a great little prep chef.”
A smile tugs at the corners of my lips, and I shuffle on my feet. No one apart from Bianca has ever acknowledged my knife skills before, even though I took years of cooking classes at that preppy private school.
“Come.” Leroi steps into the balcony. “I’ve made enough for both of us.”
He sets the skillet on the table and heaps a large portion of frittata and steak on my plate, while I pour the juice. With the delicious aromas floating around us and the sun warming my skin, it feels like I’m part of a family. A twisted family of killers, but it’s still a hundred times better than what I had before.
“I thought about what you asked for last night,” he says.
My mind dials back to our conversation. “About Gabriel?”
He shakes his head. “Miko is still searching. He’s ruled out Beaumont Central and Simon’s Memorial Hospital and is casting his search wider.”
“Oh.”
I take a bite of steak and find it seasoned to perfection. Maybe Leroi’s about to let me sleep in his room?
“You said you wanted more freedom.”
My shoulders sag. “I’m not moving to the apartment next door.”
“Not that,” he says. “Now that you’ve changed your appearance, there’s nothing stopping you from going out and exploring the city on your own.”
I choke on my mouthful of steak and grab a glass of juice to wash it down. Leroi gives me a gentle pat on the back.
“Really? I can leave anytime I want?” I ask.
His eyes soften. “Just be careful not to carry out any revenge missions. You may still be a target.”
I give him an eager nod, not quite believing he’ll let me explore the outside world. As soon as I finish eating, I rush to the bedroom, jump in the shower, and sift through my new clothes. I settle for a pair of leggings and a pink t-shirt that no longer suit my new coloring. After putting on the contact lenses the way Farfalla taught me, I slip on a pair of sneakers and step out.
Leroi is already waiting for me by the door.
My steps falter. “Are you coming with me?”
He raises a shoulder. “You’re going to need money. I thought I’d tag along until you get your own card.”
I give him a shy smile and a nod. This almost feels like a date. I try to push that thought away, but the prospect of walking around town with Leroi still makes my heart race.
He holds open the front door and gestures for me to step out.
“Um…” I clear my throat and smooth back a lock of hair. “Will there be a reward if I don’t kill anyone?”
He quirks a brow, the corners of his lips lifting. “What would you like?”
“A kiss,” I rasp.
“Why?”
Butterflies flutter in my stomach, and my gaze lingers on his lips. Kissing was part of my training. It was a way to distract a man before injecting him with poison, but it always turned my stomach. A kiss with Leroi would be different. Leroi would take his time and make sure I enjoyed it.
“There weren’t any boys at my prep school and Dad wouldn’t let me date.” I shrug. “I just want to know what it would be like to be kissed by someone I liked.”
His face falls. “That’s not on the table, Seraphine.”
My cheeks flush, and I duck my head, my insides squirming. What was I thinking? Of course he doesn’t want to kiss a girl like me. I’m just an assassin who had to seduce men to stay alive. He’s probably still freaked out by that bastard I castrated.
“Sorry,” I mumble, my gaze fixed on my feet.
Leroi lifts my chin, forcing our eyes to meet. “Don’t apologize. I can give you any other reward within my limits—”
“It’s alright.” I pull away from his hold. “Let’s go.”
As we step out into the hallway and head toward the elevator, the apartment next door opens. Miko pokes his head out and grins.
“Hey, where are you guys off to?” he asks, his eyes flickering over my outfit.
Leroi steps forward, blocking me from Miko’s view. “A walk around town.”
“Really? Seraphine’s going out already?”
I peek out from behind Leroi’s shoulder. “What’s wrong with that?”
He holds out his palms. “Nothing, nothing at all. It’s just… I thought you’d be working on something, that’s all. And you’re looking good, by the way.”
Miko disappears behind his door, and Leroi places an arm around my shoulders.
“What was that about?” I whisper.
Leroi shakes his head and walks us to the elevator. Neither of us speaks until we step out of the building and into the sunny street.
Traffic rumbles around us, and the streets are bustling with pedestrians. I shrink into Leroi’s side, feeling exposed without the cover of night. The last time we went out hadn’t been so nerve-wracking, although I suppose that was before Leroi made me realize that my actions have consequences.
It’s crazy that I didn’t appreciate how much work went into a mission until after spending time with a professional hitman. Even crazier to think someone could be searching for a girl who fits my description. It’s a wonder that I’ve survived this long.
Leroi brings his head down to my ear and murmurs, “Miko wants to be like us.”
“He wants to kill people?” I whisper back.
He nods.
“Are you going to help him?” I ask.
“I’ll make sure he learns to use a gun, but I won’t teach him how to kill unless it’s in self-defense.”
“How long has he worked for you?”
My gaze darts to a chocolatier’s window display, where a mini fountain surrounded by truffles spurts a cascade of sticky, sweet, deliciousness. My mouth waters and I swipe my tongue over dry lips.
“Miko isn’t an employee,” Leroi replies. “I picked him up on a job nearly six years ago, the same way I did with you.”
We stroll down a sidewalk lined with offices and apartment buildings, the air filled with the sounds of horns and chatter. Some of the tension in my posture relaxes, knowing that Leroi won’t teach Miko to be like us. I want Leroi’s attention all for myself.
As we cross the road and enter the park through tall, iron gates, I turn to Leroi and ask, “Are you teaching me to be an assassin?”
“No,” he replies, his voice tightening as we continue down a tree-lined sidewalk.
“Why not?”
He glances down at me and grimaces. “Because you’re not cut out for the job.”
I bristle, my hackles rising, every instinct rushing to defend my abilities. “How can you say that when I’ve been doing it since I was sixteen?”
“You’re too emotional, too impulsive,” he counts off. “You act on instinct instead of logic. You don’t detach yourself from your targets.”
I scowl, my lips tightening. “Are you calling me sloppy?”
He stops abruptly and grabs my shoulders. “You should never have been dragged into this line of work.” His words are so soft I have to lean closer to hear them. “You were a child, already traumatized by what happened to your mother. Then the only father you knew handed you over to a pair of psychopaths.”
I drop my gaze to our feet.
He leans closer. “Capello and his sons threatened the people you loved and forced you to murder for them.”
A tight band of anger wraps around my ribs, turning my breath shallow. None of this is news to me. I don’t understand the point of rehashing a wrong I can never put right.
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, already knowing that none of this is even my responsibility.
“Because being a good assassin isn’t a badge of honor. It’s the mark of a person devoid of a soul. I don’t want you to lose what’s left of your humanity.”
“What about the guards who killed Mom?” I scrape out. “Are you going to tell me I should be the bigger person and forgive them?”
“Absolutely not.” He squeezes my shoulders. “You’re going to kill those four bastards and wipe them off your conscience. Then you’re going to spit on Capello’s grave and never look back.”
I nod, the pressure easing off my lungs.
“That’s why I won’t teach you to be an assassin,” he says, his grip on my shoulders loosening. “But I will teach you self-control.”
My chest fills with a mix of conflicting emotions. Relief that I might have a life outside of murdering and maiming. A life without trauma. There’s also a part of me that enjoys working side by side with Leroi, even when he’s being persnickety. A lump forms in the back of my throat, and I swallow.
“What about you?” I ask.
He cocks his head.
“Will you continue being an assassin?”
A flicker of something crosses his features, but it’s too quick for me to process, let alone identify. “It’s too late for me. I’ve been in this business for so long that I don’t know how to be anything else.”
I meet his dark gaze, not knowing how to respond because I can’t imagine myself never wanting to gouge out a man’s eyes for looking at me for too long or fantasizing about what Leroi would look like covered in blood.
What hope do I have of breaking free from my bloodlust if a man as normal as him won’t even try?
Before I can voice my thoughts, he wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Let’s get you some ice cream. Afterward, I can tell you what I’ve planned for tonight.”
