Despite my gruff—all right,grumpy—personality and my anger, I did actually like Nikolai. But tonight, I needed this walk to clear my mind in peace and quiet—and if he was there, it was sure to be anything but.
My feet led me to the city park, which was decorated for the holiday season. I fucking hated this time of year. It reminded me of when I lost Liza, my sister, on another cold December night like this one.
I fell into an easy stride, my guards flanking me a few steps behind. Close enough to act if anyone tried to attack me, but far enough to give me the illusion of privacy. It wasn’t as if I truly needed them. I had two small guns concealed on me—one tucked into my waistband, the other in a holster on my ankle. And if neither of those somehow worked, I kept a switchblade in my pocket for emergencies.
Or for fun.
But tonight, the only other people in the park were several feet away, a trio that was screaming, laughing, and generally interrupting my brooding.
You are Death.
I must have been too stuck in my head because, without warning, something collided into me, soft but solid, knocking me off balance and onto the ground. The thick snow softened my fall, cold and wet as it soaked through my coat and gloves. I hissed through clenched teeth at the sudden impact, holding whatever was on top of me with a tight grip, ready to destroy it.
“What the—” But my words froze in my throat, buried underneath my surprise.
It was the most beautiful fucking woman I’d ever seen.
Her soft, flushed cheeks, sprinkled with freckles, combined with her heart-stopping smile, sucked all the air from my lungs. Then, my eyes went to her brown hair. Snow dotted it like tiny stars, clinging to her fluttering lashes. The street caught her in a halo of gold, making her look even more like something that didn’t belong anywhere near a man like me.
“Ow…” she moaned, rubbing at her forehead, where a white scar traveled along her hairline. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching?—”
Behind me, the crunch of boots in the snow told me the guards were approaching, ready to intervene and throw this random woman off of me. Normally, I would have let them come and sort out any threat. But then she opened her eyes for a fraction of a second, allowing me a glimpse of chocolate-brown eyes that were so warm and unguarded, it made me pause. My world had never been full of anything but darkness, yet these were bright. Happy, even. So stunning that my mouth parted, and my hand came up to hold back my guards.
“Are you hurt?”
“My pride? Yes. My head? It’s nothing a little makeup won’t fix.”
Despite the soft giggles beneath her words, I touched it anyway, memorizing the place I’d made contact with her. There would be a bump there in the morning. The thought of her with even the smallest of injuries stoked something dark inside of me. For the first time, my hunger changed shape, twisting, wanting not just to kill, but to hurt. To own.
To make hermine.
I craved the way she looked at me, her eyes wide and trusting, lips parted as if she, too, was mesmerized by what she saw. I wanted to claim that look, for her to whimper my name under her breath in her nightingale voice, for her to belong to me and only me.
You are Death.
Yes,I thought, finally shoving the voice away from my mind.I am Death. I have tasted Life. And I want more.
No matter what it took.
“Let me help you stand.” I looked away because I knew that if I saw her lips looking so damn kissable, I would slam her to the snow and find out what those brown eyes looked like when they rolled into the back of her head.
Sliding my arms around her and helping her up, I studied her a moment longer than was polite, committing every facet of her to memory. I had memorized building plans faster than this, cataloged men’s faces in seconds before ending their lives. But her, I took my time with.
There was something about her that was familiar, some part of her that tugged at the edges of my memory. But I pushed the feeling aside, because hers was a face I would not forget.
“Are you cold?” I asked, frowning at her thin coat and reddened cheeks.
She shook her head, though the slight tremble in her body suggested otherwise. Without a second thought, I slipped off my cream-colored scarf and wrapped it around her neck. I wondered what her pale skin would look like covered in bite marks and bruises. Evidence that I owned her.
The woman’s eyes widened. “I can’t accept this.”
“Of course you can. It matches your outfit perfectly.”
She beamed, spinning for me. My cock hardened at the sight of it, her performing for me. “It does, doesn’t it?” she giggled. “Though I promise I’ll return it.”
I liked that promise. It meant she wanted to see me again. Because, despite our already apparent differences, I could only bring myself to think of beginnings rather than endings. Reasons to stay instead of reasons to go.
“My name is Alek,” I said, voice low as I stuck out my hand.
