I pull one from the hook on the wall and blow the thin layer of dust from it. A family of four. They’re all smiling, the children still very young, and I frown as I stare at the picture quality. How long have I been in Hell? I wonder again.
I hang it back in its place, then put my hands in my pockets and walk into what I can only assume is an office—or maybe a library. There are books everywhere. Some on shelves, some scattered on the floor. I pause when I see Sable’s back. She’s leaning over a desk, her hand on the side of her head. My traitorous eyes study her. From the top of her head to her feet, my attention lingering on her ass.
I gulp and step closer, until I can see her from the side. Her plump bottom lip is caught between her teeth as her gaze flicks across the pages of a book.
Fuck.
Sable gasps and straightens. “What do you want?”
The book I grab from the fireplace and throw flies through her head.
She spins round with a scowl. “Don’t you have something better to do?”
“Nope. I’m tethered to your spirit thanks to your incompetence.”
Her stare burns holes through my face as a second book soars through her chest. “Stop that.”
“Make me.”
If she could kill me with one look, it would be the one she’s giving me now.
Kind of hot. Kind of.
Her hands fist at her sides as she spins on her heels and tries to storm away from me.
“Sable,” I say. “Stop.”
Like the good little dead girl she is, she stops, pauses, takes a deep, calming breath, then glares at me over her shoulder.
The “good dead girl” title lasts all of three seconds before she lunges for a nearby candleholder. Her hand swipes right through it. The fact that she thought she could hit me back is hilari?—
A book smacks into my chest with enough force to wind me.
We both freeze, staring at each other, then the corner of her lips curl before she grabs another book from the shelf and launches it at me. I dodge—but not quick enough to avoid the candleholder that collides with my face.
Right under my goddamn eye.
I swipe my cheek to find a smear of red covering my thumb and tut. The dead girl drew blood.
A maniacal laugh bubbles from my chest. “This is the part where you run.”
The way she tips her head back in defiance has my heart pounding—that isn’t a look of terror. She’s not afraid of me. She doesn’t run. But she should.
Sable fighting back shouldn’t inspire images of me fucking her into a shallow grave, but my psyche has a mind of its own where she’s involved.
I wonder what she’d feel like? I bet she’d have a pretty pussy to match that face of hers. It’s been a while since I’ve even had a release, but I think I might kill her again before I’ve even come—feel that tight cunt spasm right before she comes back to life.
The thoughts in my head need to fuck off right now because this crazy, rabid animal has another book in her hand. Maybe what she needs is a good fuck to get rid of her aggressive attitude.
My eyes narrow. “Throw that again and I’ll?—”
The little shit hits my shoulder with it, then finally decides it’s a good idea to turn and run.
Cracking my neck from side to side, I give her a minute head start. I can hear her harsh breaths but not her footsteps. I’ll find her within seconds.
I make my way into the main foyer, listening for her breathing, smiling to myself when I hear her let out a “fuck” before appearing at the top of the grand staircase.
With a kitchen knife in her hand.
