Page 10 of Guarded By the Nightmare

When she did, she stared at me with eyes that burned. “You murdered him.”

“Yes.”

“And you’ll murder me, too.”

There was no point in lying—one only lied when one experienced shame, and that was an emotion I had not possessed for millennia. “Yes.”

She bit her lips and nodded. “In that case, can I make a request?”

I tilted my head. This entire moment was becoming droll. “You can do anything you’d like, my queen, and as for me, we’ll see.”

I watched her inhale and set her shoulders. “When the time comes, do it quickly. Please.”

“So polite.”

“That’s not a promise.”

“You didn’t ask for one.”

She put her hands to her face and her body started shuddering. I thought that I had lost her to sorrow or madness—but then she made a braying sound and blinked up at the ceiling, like she was talking to God. “All the murder monsters in the world, and I get the pedantic one.” Her lips were curved up and she was shaking her head while laughing, like she couldn’t believe her bad luck.

Was she . . . mocking . . . me? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been insulted. “There’s a difference between pedantry and precision.”

“Oh, did I hurt your feelings?” She moved to stand in front of me, entirely—irritatingly—fearless. “Please, Mister Smoke, don’t eviscerate me,” she said in a sing-song voice, with her hands clasped under her chin like a silent movie actress. “Is that better?”

I let myself diffuse out, occupying more of the space around us. “I do not have feelings for you to harm.”

“You’re the poster child for toxic masculinity, I’m getting that.” Shesquinted up at me. “But let’s get one thing straight—you can’t hurt me, either.”

“Because of our pact?” I said, letting my laughter echo from all around. “My queen, Iwillbe killing you.”

She stepped forward aggressively. “Yeah, I know. But not for a while yet, if you’re not a liar. And until then? I’m not afraid of you.”

“The scent of your puke says differently.”

“That was just surprise.” Her chin rose in defiance, her gaze held mine, and while I may not have wanted to kill her just yet, it was time to put her in her place.

I enveloped her in darkness, letting my smoke touch any part of her it could reach, pressing against her with a multitude of horrors—pinpricks of a thousand cold, insectile claws, the sound of wet and heavy breathing in her ears, and I enshrouded her vision with absolute nothingness, unchangeable, and unrelenting.

She gave a yelp, but then quieted almost instantly, her heart rate spiking like a firework, then plummeting just as fast, as she went someplace quiet and hidden inside herself, and I retreated quickly.

As upset as I was not to frighten her more—to get the chance to sip on her like a nightcap—her control boded well.

She just might have the wherewithal to use my skills properly, with some guidance and imagination.

And when I’d finished coalescing back into my form, I found her frowning. “Did you enjoy that, you sick fuck?”

“Not as much as I had hoped.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not the only one who doesn’t have feelings anymore,” she said with a snort. “Why do you think I hired you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?” I asked, as I sat back down in the chair opposite her bed.

She frowned and kept frowning. She did have feelings, after all; they just weren’t related to me.

“In all truthfulness, it would be best if you told me what my feeding schedule will be from here on out, so I’ll know if I need to supplement it or not. I assume there’s a man involved?”

That, she deigned to answer. “Men. Five of them.”

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