I keep my face buried in his chest as I shake my head.
“You’re just going to let me pierce your heart?”
I don’t reply, but I sob again. The movement makes the blade enter a little deeper, and I cry out at the fresh burst of pain.
“Fuck!” He pulls out the dagger and flings it aside. I hear it strike the floor.
He takes his hand from my pussy, drags me closer with wet fingers, and wraps both arms around me. His hold is cruel and crushing. “Stop making mecareabout you.”
“I’m not doing it on purpose.”
“This is a temporary truce, understand? I’m holding you for ten seconds and then I expect you to sack up and defend yourself like the warrior I know you to be. Don’t let me kill you without a fight.”
“Fine,” I mutter, with a belligerent sniff.
There’s silence for a few moments, and then he says hoarsely, “Do you know what I really want?”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass,” I mumble.
“I want to suck on that sweet little clit of yours, and I want your tits in my mouth.”
A ripple of surprise rolls through my stomach. “You can’t say shit like that to people you plan to kill.”
“Why not?”
“It’s counterproductive.” I move to break his hold, and he lets me go. I lift my shirt, inspecting the shallow cut between my ribs and showing him my left breast in the process. He stands there, watching, until I pull my clothing back into place. Then he licks my arousal off his fingers and wipes his hand on his pants, which I find both disgusting and strangely hot.
“You’re a filthy animal, you know that?” I tell him.
“Look who’s talking.”
I survey my clothing. Like him, I’m covered in plaster dust, grime, and blood—both mine, his, and Slaughter’s. “And somehow you still find me attractive.”
He shrugs. “Maybe I’ve got a kink for dirty girls.”
Picking up my knife and flipping it on my palm, I back away a few paces, ostensibly to grab my pack, but also because I want to put distance between us. “So what now? We battle for dominance over this room?”
“We could do that—or we could join forces.”
“What?” I stare at him blankly.
He shrugs. “You don’t have a team. My crew has a vacancy or two. Join us. I’ll bet you already know where Drosselmeyer’s treasure is. That’s what you’re after, isn’t it? We’ll go get it together. There’s more than enough to share.”
What he doesn’t know is that my crew will be back in another fifteen hours—or is it thirteen? I haven’t counted in a while, and I’m not about to pull out the wishing stone in front of him to check how much time I have left.
Maybe I could use Ravager and his one remaining companion to get past that monster in the basement. And then, when my people reappear, we can kill both Grisly and Ravager, and we can take all the loot for ourselves.
It would be a magnificent double-cross. I can’t resist the temptation to try it, if only to see the look on Ravager’s face when he realizes I’ve played him. Maybe then I’ll feel less idiotic for letting him finger me.
Once he’s dead, no one will ever know about that.
“So we would be allies,” I say, feigning reluctance.
“Temporarily, yes. Of course, if you want to see me again after all this is over, I won’t say no. We can get together, have some drinks, some laughs—”
“Keep dreaming, dipshit.” I sheathe my knife. “You’re right, I do know where Drosselmeyer’s collection is. But you’re not going to like it.”
While we drag Slaughter’s body over to the side of the room, I briefly explain to Ravager how the surveillance system works, and I tell him about the beast in the basement.
