I step closer, examining the blood without touching anything. It’s starting to dry at the edges but still tacky in the center. Pretty recent, within the last two hours or so.
The lock on her door wasn’t forced, which means either she left it unlocked like an idiot, or someone had a key. I’m betting on the latter. The question is who.
I pull out my phone and snap several pictures of the message from different angles. Evidence. Then I search the rest of thesmall bathroom, looking for anything else the intruder might have left behind. There’s nothing obvious—no footprints, no dropped items, no convenient fucking calling card.
Because fuck me, why would they make it easy on me?
It’s animal blood—I can tell by the consistency and smell. Probably pig’s blood, easy enough to obtain with the right connections.
“It’s not human,” I call back, not wanting her to think someone was slaughtered for this little performance. “Animal blood.”
I hear her exhale shakily from the other room.
Walking back toward Seraphina, I resume my squat in front of her. She’s pulled her legs up to her chest, making herself as small as possible, and I rest my arms on her knees. Her eyes are still wide, pupils dilated with fear, but there’s something else there now—a trust I don’t deserve but crave like a fucking addict.
“I’ll have someone come clean it up,” I tell her, already mentally cycling through who owe me favors and can be intimidated to not breathe a word of this to anyone. “But you can’t stay here.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off.
“Even if you wanted to, which you don’t, we both know that.” I hold her gaze, not letting her look away. “There’s no way I’m letting you stay here.”
“Where am I supposed to go?” she asks, her voice small in a way that makes something in my chest tighten uncomfortably. “I can’t go to my parents.”
“You’re coming home with me.” It’s not a request. Not a suggestion. It’s a statement of fucking fact.
She shakes her head, a flash of her usual fire returning. “No. Not your place again.”
“This isn’t a negotiation.” I run my thumb along her jawline, feeling her tremble slightly under my touch. “Someone targetedyou specifically. They got into your room without breaking in. They left a message in blood. You think I’m going to let you stay here alone?”
She sways slightly on her feet, still clutching my coat around her. “I can’t—we can’t—after what happened...”
“We’re not going to talk about that right now,” I tell her, already moving to her closet to grab her weekender bag. “Right now, we’re focusing on getting you somewhere safe.”
“You can’t just pack for me,” she protests weakly.
“Watch me, because I absolutely can and will.” I shove a handful of her underwear into the bag, pausing briefly to appreciate a particularly nice black lace thong before adding it to the pile. “You need clothes, toiletries, whatever textbooks you’re using. Anything else you can’t live without for a few days?”
She stands there, frozen, watching me ransack her drawers.
“Seraphina,” I snap my fingers in front of her face. “Focus. What else do you need?”
“My laptop,” she finally says, moving to her desk. “And my chargers.”
Her hands are still trembling as she moves around the room, gathering a few more essentials—a worn paperback, a small jewelry box, and what must be her favorite pillow.
“Is that everything?” I ask, zipping the bag closed.
She nods, still wrapped in my coat like it’s the only thing keeping her from falling apart. The sight of her like this—fragile, vulnerable—makes something primal stir in my chest. Not the usual predatory hunger, but something more possessive. More protective.
“Let’s go,” I say, slinging the bag over my shoulder and placing my hand on the small of her back to guide her toward the door.
As we reach the door, she suddenly stops, turning to face me. Her chin lifts slightly with her stubbornness starting to return to her eyes.
“If I’m staying at your house, there need to be rules. Boundaries,” she says, her voice steadier than it’s been since I arrived.
I can’t help the laugh that escapes me, equal parts surprise and amusement. Even terrified out of her mind, she’s still trying to establish control. Fucking magnificent.
“Of course there are,” I say sarcastically, shaking my head. “By all means, let’s negotiate terms while standing in a crime scene. Your timing is impeccable as always, Little Sinner.”
