The Scotsman has no permanent address and appears to move through the world leaving only violence in his wake.Loyal dogs are difficult to turn.They must be removed, put down, made an example of.
I will need to be patient and watch his patterns.Find the moment when he is separated from her, vulnerable, distracted by his devotion.
And the thing in the house…that will require different tools entirely.How does one remove a ghost?A demon?Whatever dwells in that rotting foundation, feeding on shadow and worship?
You starve it.
You take away what it feeds on.
You take awayher.
But first I need to strip away her court piece by piece until she stands alone, undefended, forced to confront the naked truth of herself without the armor of her collected monsters.
ThenI will peel her open.ThenI will meet the girl beneath the queen.
I pin a new photograph to the wall.Sera, taken from a distance, walking into Gas N’ Go for her shift.Now I see what I missed before—the strong set of her shoulders, the way her gaze tracks every person who passes her, the coiled tension of a predator pretending to be prey.
She is magnificent.
I trace the line of her throat in the photograph with one fingertip.Such a fragile place, the throat.Voice and breath and pulse all gather there, vulnerable to the knife.But cutting her throat would silence her.And I need to hear what she will say when I finally crack her open.What confessions will spill out.What truths she has locked away.
She thinks she is hunting, but she has no idea she is already in my teeth.
I still need to know the answer to my question, though:Who is she hunting?
If I can answer that, I can anticipate her.If I can anticipate her, I can stay one step ahead.And staying ahead means I control the revelation.The timing.The final unveiling.
I close my eyes and remember the feeling of lying in her car, breathing her air, waiting for her.I have never failed before, and that makes her even more precious.Even more necessary.
My next move must be exact.The detective was a test.Removing him proved I can fracture her defenses without her even knowing I am there until it is too late.
The Scotsman will be harder.He is violence incarnate, and violence recognizes violence.
But he is also human.And humans bleed so beautifully when they realize their devotion was not enough to save them.
The thing in her house will also be difficult…unless it cannot leave her house.Oh, that is a clever thought.
Regardless, when she stands alone—stripped of protection, stripped of weapons, stripped of the shadows she hides in—I will finally see her true face.
The thought fills me with something close to joy.
I do not hate her.I could never hate something so perfectly constructed for my purpose.She is a puzzle box that requires blood to open.A locked vault of agony and rage and grief.
I will be the key.
Soon, my Sera.
Soon you will understand that you were never the hunter.
You were always the most important subject.
And I am very, very patient.
A whimper from the corner draws my attention, and I lovingly caress my knife on the worktable, smiling in anticipation for the moment the blade breaks the skin of my latest victim.
Chapter 18
Sera
