Page 95 of Two Sides of Sin

I moved silently through the living space, a phantom in her home. I stopped at a small dish by the door, picking up a delicate, silver ring. I rolled the metal between my fingers before slipping it into the pocket of my coat. I drifted into the bathroom, my eyes catching on a small, glass bottle of perfume. I uncapped it, inhaling the sweet, notes, and dropped that into my pocket, too.

I walked past a laundry basket, my fingers grazing the edge of a black lace bra draped over the side. I picked it up. The fabric was soft, holding the faintest trace of her scent. I folded it with meticulous precision and placed it in my inside breast pocket, right over my dead heart. Taking these pieces of her was methodical. A collection.

Finally, I stepped into the doorway of her bedroom.

The flickering light of the muted television illuminated the room in sharp, shifting shadows. I stopped dead at the foot of the bed. She was tangled in the white duvet, her face turned towards the screen. I had seen the photographs my investigator had taken, but seeing her in the flesh was a jarring, unexpected shock to my system.

It was her. Exactly her.

The same heavy, dark waves spilling across the pillow. The same delicate slope of her neck. I moved closer, my footsteps silent on the hardwood floor, until I was standing right beside her. I reached out, my hand trembling and gently brushed a stray curl away from her cheek. Her skin was incredibly warm.

I leaned down, closing my eyes as I inhaled the scent of her hair. It was a dizzying rush of memories—the Manor, the rose garden, the blood—Her blood.

She shifted slightly in her sleep, the heavy duvet sliding down to her waist. She was wearing a delicate, baby blue lace set, the pale fabric contrasting beautifully with her skin. I stared down at her, my dark eyes tracing the curve of her hips, the soft rise and fall of her chest. Everything was exactly the same. She was a flawless, identical reincarnation of the only thing I had ever failed to completely control.

My hands twitched at my sides. The urge to wake her, to watch the terror flood those beautiful blue eyes when she realised who was standing in her bedroom, but she wouldn’t remember who I am, and that takes out all the fun. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to fuck or kill her.

I slowly pulled my hand back, my jaw clenching as I forced the sociopathic beast beneath my skin back into its perfectly ordered box. Not yet, I told myself. The game has only just begun.

I slipped back out the sliding glass door, locking it behind me, leaving her completely unaware of the danger she was just in.

Chapter 55

Sage

The fluorescent lights of the grocery store were blindingly bright, buzzing with a faint, electrical hum that set my already frayed nerves on edge.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and the aisles were packed with ordinary people doing ordinary things. I should have felt safe surrounded by this many people. But instead, the suffocating, heavy sensation that had been crawling up my spine since I found that painting on my desk, had mutated into something unbearable.

I was being watched. I could feel it.

I stopped in front of the dairy fridge, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the handle of my shopping cart. I whipped my head around, my eyes darting past a mother who was wrangling a toddler and an elderly man inspecting apples.

No one was looking at me.

I swallowed hard, the cold air from the refrigerators raising goosebumps on my bare arms. I grabbed a carton of milk without looking, tossing it into my cart, and quickly moved down the aisle. I couldn’t shake the sensation of a cold, calculated gaze burning a hole right between my shoulder blades.

“Sage? Hey!”

I physically jumped, letting out a sharp gasp as I spun around.

“Whoa, sorry!” Chloe, a girl from my advanced ceramics class, held her hands up in apology. She offered a hesitant, slightly concerned smile. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I was just going to ask if you finished the essay for Professor Vance yet.”

“Oh,” I breathed, pressing a hand to my racing heart. “Hi, Chloe. No, I… I’m still working on it.”

I glanced nervously over my shoulder again, my eyes scanning the end of the aisle. An empty shopping cart sat abandoned, sending a shadow stretching across the linoleum, but there was no one there.

“Are you okay?” Chloe asked, her smile fading as she took in my pale face and the dark circles under my eyes. “You look really pale. And you keep looking behind me.”

I forced my gaze back to her, trying to construct a normal, convincing smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I just… I have a lot on my mind right now. Just exhausted, you know?”

She nodded sympathetically, though she still looked at me like I was fragile. “Okay. Well, get some rest I guess…See you Monday.”

I hastily abandoned my groceries after that, grabbing only the essentials before hurrying through the self checkout.

The paranoia only tightened its grip when I made my way over to the campus library an hour later.

I needed reference books for my essay, but my mind wasn’t on art history. As I walked down the grand stone steps of the library, clutching my tote to my chest, my eyes locked onto a vehicle in the fire lane across the street.