I pull the hilt free, my hand shredded and dripping, the air smelling like sex and iron.
My fingers hook under the mask, dragging it down.
She stares up at me, wrecked and perfect. My blood and her taste are still thick on my tongue. It’s fucking divine.
I walk around her bed, open the drawer and pull the fucking pink dildo out and shove it in my back pocket. I’m burning this shit.
“I’ll see you on your next kill, hellcat,” I growl, turning toward the door.
Her voice follows me, hoarse and desperate. “What’s your name?”
I don’t answer, just close the door behind me.
Not yet, my beautiful little cat, but soon.
Chapter Seven
“What the fuck happened now, Eiden?” Beau’s voice hits me with that usual mix, half a snarl, half a grin. Like he’s caught between patching me up or knocking me out.
“I cut myself.” I move past him, blood sliding down my fingers. The hallway smells faintly of gun oil and smoke like usual, but all I taste is her.
“Jesus Christ,” Beau mutters, grabbing the first aid kit with the efficiency of a man about to stitch up a rabid pit bull. “If you keep this up, I’ll need to order more needles and a damn blood bank.”
Caleb’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes sharp and lit with predator’s amusement. “You fuckedher, didn’t you?”
I give him a look, but it only makes his grin widen. He feeds off this, and he also knows me too well.
“I thought Caleb was the sadist,” Beau drawls, clearly enjoying the show.
“I didn’t cut her,” I snap, stepping into the bathroom, my boots leave faint smears of red on the tile. “I cut myself, that’s all.”
“I can see that!” Beau snaps behind me.
Caleb follows, slow and lazy, a wolf stalking with no hurry to eat. “Good. That detached version of you was boring as shit. Glad to have the unhinged bastard back.”
“Don’t fucking encourage him,” Beau says without looking up, tone clipped but hands steady. “The last thing we need is Eiden going full psycho with the one woman who cuts off balls and sews them into eye sockets.”
I sit, forearm resting heavy on my thigh. My pulse is still jacked, my skin’s still humming from her. Every breath I drag in is threaded with the memory of her scent, and my cock twitches, hard. I dig my nails into my leg to keep from showing it.
“You like to mark them with your belt and make them beg,” I growl at Beau. “Don’t talk to me about fucked up.”
He doesn’t flinch, just lifts my hand, eyeing the gash as if it’s nothing new. “You’re dangerous when you getthis way. Obsessive. Bloody, and it’s only going to get worse.”
“More fun, you mean,” Caleb cuts in, his grin curling higher.
Beau shoots him a glare. “Don’t you have something to burn?”
“Wish I did.” Caleb slaps Beau on the back and saunters off, whistling.
Beau’s attention stays locked on the wound. The sting of antiseptic hits and I grit my teeth. The pull of the needle through my skin is steady, precise, the thread rasps against raw flesh.
“What if she calls the cops? They’ll get your blood, Eiden. You left a trail,” he says, worried.
“She won’t,” I mutter.
“Why not?”
“She’s killed two men. Last thing she wants is cops sniffing around. Besides…” My mouth curves in a slow, dangerous smirk. “She enjoyed my visit.”
