Page 46 of Every Shade of Shadow

Why?

That is the resounding question here.

I ask the obvious. “But you did enjoy it, once?”

The fuck, Annabelle? I scold myself, wondering how the hell these questions are getting past my stupid brain and out my stupid mouth, but Darkwood simply smiles.

“Those that preyed on the innocent, the weak… Yes, I’ll admit there was a satisfaction when I ended them. I felt no remorse, only a dull kind of joy in the duty of it, but the more I worked, the more the tedium of the human condition began to weigh on me. Inanis or not, it’s all the same.”

I try to fill this in. “And when you heard of the murder this morning it reminded you of your, ah, duties? Are you suggesting that was the work of an assassin?

“No,” he rejects that notion, wagging his finger. “This was no work of the Brotherhood. Each of us has a signature, a flourish if you will, but this…this was something else. There was hunger in it. There always is.”

He crouches beside me, taking a knife from the table and turning it over in his hands. “Knives were never my preference. Too messy. Too…labor-intensive.”

I recall the scarred woman at the ball. I wonder if the Professor did that to her, what his ‘preference’ was then.

I shouldn’t go down this path, but to hell with it. I’m on a roll. “Sir…?” I speak in a voice that’s all but a whisper, unable to shake the image of the messed-up face behind that mask. “There was a woman at the ball,” I begin, knowing this line of questioning is only going to increase the severity of my punishment. “She had a scar. Right here,” I pause to lift my index finger to my face. “She knew my name, warned me not to call the number on the card.”

He nods, looking down at his own reflection in the blade of the knife. “She was a student once,” he explains, his irritation showing in his clipped tone. “She showed promise at the beginning, but in the end, it was too much for her, the training. She’s lucky all she left with was that scar. She’s lucky she left with her life.”

It’s like he’s taken that knife and stabbed me in the gut. Whoever this woman was, she was his protégé. Or his lover, his mistress? Maybe his pet, just like me. They were once intimate. In other words, I’ve taken on her role, maybe the role of countless women before me. I look away from him, my gaze falling on an empty plate to the left.

“But what about my name?” I say, trying to satisfy my own curiosity. Or at least try. “How did she know my name?”

He shakes his head. “You don’t know yourself at all, do you, my pet? But you will,” he nods. “I promise you.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean? All I can see in my head is her and Darkwood. They’re not performing magic or casting a spell.

They’re fucking.

Hard. Dirty.

And still he won’t give me the satisfaction of taking me? What is he waiting for?

The caress of his breath on my forehead stirs me from my thoughts. “I detect a hint of jealousy,” he says. “Why?”

My eyes grow hot, but I won’t falter. “Because I want to be the first, the only,” I confess, averting my gaze from him.

He lets out a sneer, and I can’t help the annoyance it sparks within me. He leans closer. The tip of his nose brushes mine and sends currents of electricity pulsing through my body. How this man can swing my emotions so wildly I do not know. A moment ago I was ready to lash out, to scream in his face no matter the consequences. And now I’m willing again, aching, for something else entirely.

“I like how you get jealous, little lamb,” he whispers, his forehead pressing to mine. He doesn’t allow me any time to respond. Instead, he claims my mouth. His tongue dives between my lips, his fingers clutching either side of my neck. A sense of unbridled lust spreads through me as our kiss deepens in the gentle illumination. I want him to take charge again and put me in my place. But when he pulls back, I realize I’m in for more disappointment.

“That will be enough,” he says, standing and straightening himself out. “Tomorrow, midnight. My chambers. I trust you’ll find them.”

Delayed fucking gratification.

Yippee.

“But—” It’s all I get out before he snaps his fingers and the air leaves my lungs, that pressure behind my eyes returning before I am once more sitting on the edge of my bed, empty and alone.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I stand in the shadows outside Darkwood's chamber, waiting for the appointed hour. Since our last encounter, I haven't been able to think of anything else but him—the taste of his scarred lips, his hands on my body…

Why we have to do this at midnight, I’ve got no idea.

Because it’s witchy, idiot.

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