A deep, unhinged laugh answers from behind me, vibrating through the confined space of the car.
The blade presses harder, nicking the skin, and warmth slides slowly down my neck, the sensation almost… a tickle.
He inhales slowly, lowering his face to the side of my neck and breathing me in.
“You really are an amateur, love,” he murmurs.
I clench my jaw but say nothing.
The knife glides lazily along my skin as he speaks again, his voice rough against my ear. “I do keep wondering,” he says in a languid tone, “I keep trying to understand the reason behind all this… what I ever did to make you hate me so much. To want me dead.”
I remain silent.
And then it dawns on him.
“Ah,” he says slowly, a trace of amusement slipping into his tone. “Talia… or that is what you said that very first time, isn’t it? It completely slipped my mind. That bitch…”
“Stop,” I snap.
He chuckles darkly. “Tell me,” he says lazily, “what exactly did she say about me to make you so feral over me, and not in the way I’d prefer?”
He pauses, then adds, “To be honest, I don’t give a fuck that you are trying to kill me. It is rather entertaining. If I ever saw a form of role play, this would be it,” he continues, his teeth grazing my neck, and I deserve a medal for the patience it takes not to so much as breathe. “But this little game of cat and mouse will have to end sooner rather than later.”
“Come on,” he mutters. “Drive. I have somewhere to be. I am already late.”
He lifts the knife from my throat and drags his tongue slowly over the thin line of blood it left behind.
I catch his reflection in the rear view mirror, and when he feels my gaze he answers it with a wink.
I can’t believe I failed again, and yet, disturbingly, I almost feel… relieved, a thought that leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
What the hell is that?
I am losing my edge.
Chapter 15
Octavia
The days pass, yet the feeling of failure and helplessness does not, and I promised myself long ago that I would never allow myself to feel helpless again, and yet here we are.
I try to keep to my classes and retreat to my dorm whenever I can, losing myself in my art in the hope that it will quiet my mind.
Adriano has not summoned me for any of my nightly work, which means he has not yet found a target.
But one of my targets continues to walk freely across this campus, because I failed yet again to kill him.
Still, I am more motivated than ever.
If it takes nine attempts, so be it.
I had a full day of classes before ending the afternoon with combat training, and of course he was there as well, every second of it, because by now it is painfully clear that the man takes every single class I do, and I know—without the slightest doubt—that he is doing it on purpose.
And it is exhausting, having him in my presence from morning until night.
Every so often a thought I despise creeps into my mind.
I have never had difficulty killing those who deserve it, and I know with absolute certainty that if I truly tried, I would have succeeded by now.
