SERAPHINE
A mistake?
A MISTAKE?
Sex was part of our agreement. Why the hell is Leroi changing his mind? This morning, he gave me the most romantic gift—Julio Catania tied up in tight knots, ready to suffer for his sins.
Leroi even presented me with a set of tools and a box of shiny new knives. Killing Julio was supposed to be part of my training. He was a demon I needed to slay to get my mind straight. I performed the task to perfection, and I earned my reward.
I didn’t ask for a kiss, but he gave me one. He broke his own rule, whispered all those words of affection, and gave me more pleasure than I thought was humanly possible. He called me beautiful, all but told me I was special, and when I came apart under his tongue and wanted more, he said no.
No more for me. Nothing for him and no explanation that made any sense. No renegotiation of the boundaries he crossed, and no apology. He just said he’d made a mistake. All that other bullshit he said about waiting for me was just his way of stalling.
Now, he’s disappeared from the apartment and left me alone to stew on his rejection. My skin itches so much that my cotton sheets feel like sandpaper, and my clothes feel like the ropes Gregor and Samson used to keep me restrained.
That’s why I’m sitting between his silk sheets with my back propped up against his silk pillow.
I want to scream, but there’s no one to scream at. I want to slash things, but Leroi has hidden the knives. Instead, I’m drawing all the things I would do to Leroi if I got the chance.
In one picture, he’s on his knees in the shower, but it’s spraying blood. After he licked my pussy, I cut his throat, and blood pours down his sculpted chest and onto my feet, swirling down the drain.
In the second picture, he’s standing up in the shower with his erection pointing toward my mouth. I wrap the yellow tape measure around his shaft and balls, then I open my mouth to reveal jagged rows of teeth, like a great white shark.
He cries fat, blue tears, and a speech bubble pops out of his mouth where he begs for mercy. My forked tongue lolls out like a snake and laps up the white droplets dripping from his slit.
In the final picture, Leroi lies on a four-poster bed with his arms secured to the posts. He’s naked, of course, and fully erect. I’m walking toward him with a claw hammer and telling him to choose between loving me and getting a new hole in his body.
The final portrait is of me, sitting on a throne with my blonde hair styled like a crown, Leroi is on his knees, sucking my toes. I don’t bother to color it in because my eyes are growing heavy. There are only so many hours a person can stay furious. Besides, my red pen is running dry. Bled out like the men I’ve killed.
All I wanted was an apology and an explanation that makes sense. Was that too much to ask? Leroi makes up the rules as he goes along, and I can’t keep up. He’s warm, he’s cold, he’s horny, he’s aloof. My quest for vengeance is hard enough without having to navigate his mood swings.
I slip my notebook under the pillow, slide down the sheets, and close my eyes. Now that I’ve taken the edge off my anger, I can sleep.
Killing Julio eased a weight off my mind. I finally feel like I’m making progress, even though the list of people I want to kill has increased by one more. When I wake up tomorrow, I’ll ask Leroi what we’re going to do about Samson.
Samson is out there somewhere, looking for me. There’s no Gregor to tell him to calm down and no Dad threatening to break him if he damages his asset. Samson can now hurt me in all the ways he’s always wanted with no one holding him back.
That’s why we need to kill him first.
I drift into slumber, my mind processing my first revenge kill. One down. Four to go. Their faces drift in and out of my consciousness. Julio’s is red and twisted with agony, while the guards who attacked Mom all share the same smug masks.
They crowd around her, cheering as she’s pinned to the desk and violated. Dad stands on the other side, holding her face between his large hands. He’s yelling at her for being a cheating whore.
I’m trembling behind the door to his office, my gaze fixed on Mom. Can’t Dad see that she’s being raped? I rush forward to stop them, but Raphael’s corpse blocks my way.
Blood still oozes from his cut throat. He stares up at me and rasps, “Help her.”
The red liquid rises from the floor, engulfs my bare feet, and glues my soles to the ground. I can’t move backward or forward. I can’t even close my eyes.
Dad orders a man with a black ponytail forward. He flips Mom onto her belly and enters her with one thrust. Behind him is Julio, but nobody notices him standing in the corner with blood oozing out of a stomach wound.
I turn back to Dad, who’s no longer the father I knew. He used to call Mom and me his princesses and explained that we were the reason he worked so hard. Now, he’s a monster ordering his men to go harder, deeper, faster.
Mom screams again, and Dad orders a curly-haired man to fill her mouth. I break free, my feet moving me away from the scene and down the hallway. As I round the corner, large hands grab my shoulders, and I scream.
It’s a dream.
It’s a dream.
“Wake up,” a voice yells. “It’s a dream.”
Fathomless black eyes stare into mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. I raise my hands and try to claw out his eyes, but he’s too fast, too strong. Before I know it, he’s pinned me to the silk sheets, yelling at me to wake up.
It takes a few heartbeats for my mind to catch up. I’m already awake.
“Leroi?” I rasp.
He pulls me into his chest. “You were having a nightmare.”
As I draw back, Leroi props me up against his side. I glance around the darkened room, my heart still pounding hard enough to muffle the roar of my blood.
“Oh,” I say through ragged breaths.
Leroi draws back and stares down at me from the other side of the bed. “Are you alright?”
“I was dreaming about the last time I saw Mom,” I murmur. “It was so vivid.”
He exhales a long breath. “Was it because I let you confront Julio Catania?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” I scoot across the mattress and lean against his larger body, trying to convince myself that it was a dream. “Seeing him this morning brought back a lot of details I’d forgotten.”
Leroi wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me even closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Let me rephrase,” he says. “You need to talk about it.”
“Why?” I pull back and stare into his profile. “I don’t want you to judge me.”
“For what?”
I shake my head.
“Seraphine,” he says, his voice hardening. “If you want me to help you control impulses, then I need to understand what’s going on in your mind. Did killing Catania make you feel better or worse?”
I bite down on my bottom lip. “It changed the dream.”
“How so?”
“Julio was the only one who wasn’t attacking Mom because I killed him.”
“That’s a good sign.” He moves his hand to my cheek and cups my face. His eyes are so intense that I’m drawn in, and my pulse slows. “It shows that you’re taking control of your demons.”
My throat thickens. “What about the ones I can’t kill? Dad was holding her down, barking orders at the others. I can’t ever slay him because he’s already dead.”
Leroi’s gaze falters from mine for a second, as though he regrets not leaving Dad alive. “We’ll work something out. Let’s focus on the ones we can hunt.”
Nodding, I lean against his chest and exhale a long sigh. He presses a soft kiss on my forehead. “The road to progress isn’t always smooth. You’ve come a long way from the girl I pulled out of the basement, and I’m proud of your progress.”
His words send a wave of warmth through my chest, and I tuck my head under my chin. I almost feel bad for those pictures I drew of him, but not completely.
“We’ll get through this,” he murmurs. “Together.”
“Hmmmm.” I burrow into his side.
“But there’s one thing I need to know,” he says into my hair.
“What’s that?”
“What are you doing in my bed, naked?”
