Tobias’s brows knitted together. “Anything.”
Soren raised his hand, and Tobias flinched back, face burning when he realized Soren was just pushing a lock of hair out of his eyes in a painfully soft gesture that twisted his insides in a knot. He looked sad when he said, “You never stood a chance, did you, Toby?”
Tobias bristled. “How so?”
“Serial killer father, narcissistic mother. Not allowed to feel, not allowed to heal. Teaching yourself that the only acceptable way to exist was to be anybody but yourself.”
Tobias frowned. “But she was right. Without her, I’d have been institutionalized a long time ago. I have no emotions, no empathy. I’m a psychopath. We’re dangerous.”
Soren was shaking his head before Tobias had even finished. “That’s not true. You’re wrong. You love that stupid lunatic of a dog.” Tobias was offended on Mantis’s behalf, but Soren wasn’t done. “You definitely feel anger, pain, fear. You respond when I touch you. More than any man I’ve ever met, if I’m being honest. You even said yourself you don’t have that Macdonald’s trio thing. You aren’t faking how much you like our time together. I’d know.”
Soren was right about Tobias not faking his response to him, but he was the exception, not the rule. “I’d think I’d know if I wasn’t. I have two degrees in this field.”
“Why do you think that is, Doc? People become shrinks to diagnose themselves, not others,” he said, like this was a fact and not his opinion. But before Tobias could say so, Soren continued. “I once spent a month with this guru in Tibet—”
“Pardon?” Tobias cut in, an image of Soren in colorful robes and sandals flooding his mind’s eye. It fit, really. “You spent a month with a Tibetan guru?”
Soren nodded, taking another sip of his coffee. “Yeah. I like to travel. Learn about other cultures, religions. The world is my school,” he said wistfully. “Anyway, like I was saying, I met this Tibetan guru who talked about people who are dark empaths.” Tobias fought the urge to roll his eyes.Empaths. Everybody was an empath now. But he let Soren continue. “These dark empaths, they read people, absorb their feelings and energy, feel what they feel. But when they have to, they can turn it off like a light switch and use all that information against their target. That’s you, Glasses. You’re not a psychopath, you’re an empath with a knife kink and a surprising need to make your kills morally just. You’re not a serial killer. You're a vigilante in an argyle sweater. It’s why you’re so good at reading people.”
Tobias snorted. “I hope you didn’t pay for his advice. Sounds like a bunch of new age mumbo-jumbo to me.”
“Did you just say mumbo-jumbo?” Soren snickered.
Tobias flushed to the tips of his ears. “Would you prefer I said bullshit?”
“Nope. Not at all. Mumbo-jumbo is perfectly you.” It didn’t sound like an insult, not when Soren was looking at him with hearts in his eyes and a soft smile like Tobias hadn’t just shown him all the ugliest things about him. “Can I ask one more question?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“How did you do it? Sit across from those monsters for years? Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t snap sooner.”
Tobias hadn’t snapped. But, twice, he’d broken his own code. “Do you remember I said I’d tried to go to the police once about a client but there was no complainant?”
Soren nodded.
“That wasn’t the truth. Well, it wasn’t the whole truth. I did try to turn him in and they did send me away due to a lack of victims, but it didn’t end there. He wasn’t like the others. He thought we shared a connection. Wanted me to…somehow be there with him. When the police wouldn’t do anything…I went to the FBI. I had enough info to bury him, even without the bodies. He’s now serving multiple life sentences.” Tobias scrubbed a hand over his face. “If the FBI had still declined to prosecute, I might have given in. It was one thing to kill, it was another to try to make me an active participant.”
“See, you’re definitely not like them.” Finally, Soren squeezed his thigh, voice low as he asked, “You ready to go kill somebody, Glasses?”
“More than you’ll ever know.”
16
Soren
Nothing like a little post-date murder for dessert—even if Tobias had struggled with the concept of a date in the first place. Soren supposed he wasn’t any better at it, but they had accomplished what loosely qualified as a date night in his book and were now capping it off in the darkness behind the motel.
Soren worked his fingertips along the edge of the sliding window of their target’s room, Tobias’s impatience palpable as his hand squeezed Soren’s shoulder. Releasing the window, Soren spun around, nearly bumping into the other man. He grinned. “What? You want to make out instead of killing this guy?”
Toby exhaled a frustrated huff and looked pointedly to either side. “Think you could move a little faster so we don’t alert the entire motel?”
“I yanked on one of these suckers too hard once and shattered it. Know what calls attention to itself? A window shattering.” Soren twisted back around, hooking his fingers to the lip of the window again but failing to stifle a smile. He liked riling Tobias too much. “The most suspicious thing you can do is act suspicious, Glasses.” He aimed a deadpan look over his shoulder.
“Great tip considering we’re standing behind a hotel trying to break in through a window. Anyone who happens to look back here will find that completely unsuspicious.”
“Someone who’s looking back here is a little suspect themselves,” Soren pointed out. “It’s more about the vibe, projecting the idea that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be and doing what you’re supposed to be doing. It’s about the energy you’re putting out.”
“Not the energy stuff again.” Toby groaned dramatically. “And we’re supposed to be behind a motel fiddling with some other guest’s window?”
