I opened my mouth to argue, but she pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes as if to say, “Shut the fuck up, Wynn, and go with the hottie prince.”
“Wynn, do you care to join me?”
I faced Julian with a nervous grin. “I’d be honored, thank you.”
“Okay, you two have fun. I’m going to make sure my husband isn’t dying of alcohol poisoning.” She kissed my cheek, did this odd wave-bow thing to Julian, and was off like a shot.
“Is he going to be okay?” Julian wondered as I slipped into the car.
“Pfft, yeah. He went out to some pub last night, drank a wee bit too much scotch, and now he’s praying to the porcelain gods.”
He hummed. The door closed, and he angled himself to face me. “Did I interrupt your day with your friend?”
“No, no. I see her all the time. How often do you get to meet a real live prince?” I cocked my head. “Actually, twice for me I guess.”
He was silent for a beat, his eyes never leaving my face. He watched me as if I were some foreign relic, a treasure. Dare I say…he appeared enamored.
“So, where are we headed for lunch?”
“A small bistro I enjoy. Would that be all right?”
I waved him away. “I’m easy…”Shit. “I mean, when it comes to food. I’m not, like, easy about all things; I have standards, after all.”
He smiled—it was minute, but the silver returned to his eyes. “Good to know.”
I had so many questions, but they were all jumbling around in my brain at the moment. Things like:How’d you find me? Why do you want to have lunch with me? Aren’t you doing a tour?Yet, I said nothing. I sat back in the comfortable leather seats and tried to adjust to the fact that I was about to have lunch with a prince.
CHAPTER SIX
Julian
I’d wokenup this morning feeling calm. I’d lain in bed and relived each second of the previous night with my victim—or my breath, as I often called them in my head.
Before he’d roused from his drugged state, I’d stripped him, tied his arms behind him and his legs together, and placed him on the tarp. I’d zipped up my coveralls and opened the armoire. I had many kinds of rope; I liked the different textures each had. While I wore gloves every time I extinguished my breaths, I liked to caress them first so that while I entwined their necks I remembered the feel.
I’d opted for a blue nylon rope, knowing the coloring would be nice against his skin.
I got ready and waited for him to wake. As soon as he did, it was as if I were coming alive, knowing I’d be stealing his essence. His eyes opened. Green, they met mine and widened.
“What the fuck? Man…wait, aren’t you Prince Julian?”
I had taken off my disguise now that I was in the safety of my own home. He wanted to talk, but that wasn’t somethingI enjoyed. The nylon rope was coiled in my hand and when I lifted it slightly, his tan complexion turned ashen.
“Dude, what’s happening here?”
“Shh.” I kneeled down beside him and gently rubbed the rope over his skin. “No talking.”
He of course didn’t listen; they never did. “Fuck you. Let me go, you sick son of a bitch.”
With a sigh, I unraveled the rope and began the fight of trying to wrap it around his neck. He squirmed a lot, yelled, spit. He was a fighter, but I was stronger. I straddled his lap and once both ends of the nylon were in my hands, I started to pull.
“No, what are you…” He gasped as I yanked tighter and tighter, slowly.
I inched closer to his face, taking in everything from the change of his skin color to the bursting of his capillaries. His tongue stuck out and began to swell; his breathing was choppy, gurgling.
I closed my eyes and reveled in the feel of his exhalation. Power coursed through my veins and I pulled infinitely tighter, a small cracking indicated I’d broken his vertebrae. He became weaker and weaker, unable to fight me anymore. And when he took his last breath, I was there to inhale it.
Remembering last night was better than coffee.
