Page 10 of Little Blue

A truly intelligent man understands that he feels. Possibly even feeling more than most. But he knows the absolute importance of appearing indifferent. Callous. Untouched. A void.

I’ve played the part so long, sometimes, I think I am unfeeling.

I’d thought maybe I’d forgotten how to truly feel, until I saw her. Wanted her.

Craved her.

My attention turns to Misha. Just the thought of her agreeing to a date with another man… “If she said yes, he won’t be long for this world.”

He laughs at the deadly calm of my voice. He’s one of few who would dare. “She said no.”

Pleasure rumbles in my chest. “Good girl.”

“She refused him.” Misha hoots. “But only because she’s seeing someone else.”

I freeze. What?

The fucker is grinning, I can hear it through the line. He’s enjoying this—me—obsessed—losing my fucking mind—over a woman.

A woman who clearly needs to learn who she belongs to before bodies begin dropping, and the whole of New York City goes up in flames.

Fucking Hell.

“Find out who he is.”

“So you can kill him?” Misha isn’t asking because he cares. He’s asking because he finds it exasperatingly hilarious that I care.

Idiot.

“I want his name within the next thirty minutes.” It’s the first time my Russian accent slips out. I’ve perfected an American accent that never slips, unless I will it to slip. The little siren is driving me to the brink of insanity.

This won’t do.

Misha’s laugh is loud and grating. It brings me back to the conversation at hand as I glare at the soggy water stain in the corner of her roof. I scowl.

Misha has watched me tear the beating heart from other men’s chests without breaking a sweat—without blinking an eye—and yet he has the balls to laugh. At me.

I force my gaze from the water stain to the black cat that weaves between my legs.

“Misha,” my voice is low with warning.

He takes pity on me. “I think she was lying.”

My heart skips in my chest. It’s an odd, unexpected, but not entirely bad feeling. “About there being a man in her life?”

“Yes.” My friend is suddenly serious.

“Why?” Why would she lie about that?

“A hunch.”

“Look into it,” I command coolly.

“Been looking into her all week. There’s been no sign of another man. If he existed, we would know.”

“Mmm.” I eye the animal that seems to lack all sense of self-preservation as it stretches up on my leg. I’d made nice with the thing so it would let me slip in while she slept without me needing to—dispose of it.

I hadn’t expected it to grow on me.

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