He cast me a quick, hard look over his shoulder that pierced right through me.
“So, run.”
I took the hint as he gripped my hand firmly—there’s that stupid, romantic notion again—and darted after him, gripping the strap on my shoulder satchel as hard as I could as I put my head down, trusted that he knew where he was going, and blindly ran.
By the time that we reached our destination. I swore that he had picked the longest route possible, halfway across campus through the rain instead of dashing from building to building to seek shelter. I stared at the almost skeletal looking man before me. Pale, pigmentless hair plastered to his head, and pinkish eyes stared at me from an angular face. His white shirt clung to every plane of his hard body, and there were plenty of those. Kash stalked toward me, breathing hard as he backed me toward a sandstone alcove.
“Where are we?” I asked as a distraction.
The clock above me in its tower struck the hour, dead on time in its answer, drowning out my next words, and any of his, though as usual the twin before me wasn’t terribly talkative.
His hand rose to catch my jaw in hard grip, and then his mouth crashed down on mine.
I whispered, straining up to meet him, seeking warmth in his kiss even as I pulled back, pressing away from him, deeper into the sandstone. His laugh against my mouth was broken as he caged me in and leaned his cold, wet body against mine. Damp clothes tangled as he itched my dress up, and pressed a knee between my legs.
Material wrapped around limbs where it shouldn’t be, trapping me in place. I struggled when he shoved my jacket over my shoulders, punning my arms by my sides.
“This isn’t fair,” I managed. “You’re far too organised for me.”
The flicker of metal and dull light together glinted, and my scream jammed in my throat as his blade pressed between my breasts.
Kash watched my face carefully. “Key promises me that you’re made for us, little Alice. That you understand why we stole lives for you. Do you?” he waggled the blade across the tops of my breasts, until I moaned for him.
“That— that—” I managed as the flat of the blade produced sensations over my skin that I’d never felt before. I sighed, and leaned into him, letting the blade dig in. “It’s good.”
"Isn't it?” he agreed, humming softly, low in his throat. The blade flicked to the sides, once, then twice. And my wet dress fell away, exposing my breasts.
I should have been shocked or cried out, but I arched instead, wanting his hands on me, knowing his touch would be freezing after our run through the rain.
“Please,” I begged, and I swore his eyes narrowed.
Kash turned away, gripping my hand and tossed me away from the wall, toward a set of stairs. I climbed them behind him, my dress clutched in one hand, my other laced in his, though I didn’t dare cover up. When we reached the top landing, I found myself in an open plan bedroom, split in two sides.
Two identities.
One covered in books, the other in computer equipment.
“You live behind the clock, don’t you?” I clutched my ruined dress and Kash’s hand, unwilling to let either go.
And in one cover, sat the smudged board that I had left in David Magnus’s studio that he promised to hide behind the rest of his old student’s works and leave to dust and obscurity.
“You saved it,” I whispered in awe.
“I saved it.”
Key stepped out of the shadows behind us, and pushed the door shut. It slammed, its echo filtering down the endless stairwell.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Key’s sharp gaze drifted between his twin’s hand and my sliced duress, then nodded. “It’s only us.”
I sucked in a splintered breath, and looked up at Kash to find an identical hungry look on his angular, striking face.
“Let us see you, Helia,” he murmured. One hand drifted up to graze the side of my breast.
Pleasure ricocheted through me, and between my legs heated, slicking. I knew if they touched me there, theyknow.
“Why me?” I asked, knotting my dress between my breasts. Knowing they could see everything, letting them drink in everything.
