Page 82 of Monster in Disguise

I'm on the sidelines, observing.

After Vlad removes the knife, a trail of blood starts falling slowly. He takes a few steps back and assesses the situation.

Sure enough, the man is in shock, and he stumbles a little, clutching at his wound. But he doesn't go down. He charges at Vlad, trying to get the knife away from him.

"You've proven your point. End it," I yell at Vlad, already seeing signs that he's struggling with his control.

I think my warning came one second too late because Vlad has the man on his back, his knife slashing and slashing.

I sigh, the scene in front of me too familiar. I get into my car and close my eyes for a moment. It will be a while before his rage has run its course.

Moments later, a knock on the window startles me awake, and I turn to see Vlad covered entirely in blood. I roll down the window and hand him some napkins. He wipes the blood off his face. His suit is dripping, and I can only imagine the state of the body if Vlad looks like this.

"Thanks."

I get out of the car and survey his handiwork. The man is completely butchered, his body a mass of mangled flesh and bone.

"So, did that prove your hypothesis?" I ask ironically, and Vlad chuckles.

He crouches down and takes the man's hand – or what's left of it.

"I'd say I proved my point. If you want to believe it, it's up to you." He shrugs, showing me the residue under the man's fingertips and some scratches on his own skin.

I help him dump the body in the trunk of his car, and then he's on his way.

Vlad's theory sounds crazy. Hell, itiscrazy. Why would anyone willingly let themselves be murdered by a serial killer? But if there's any chance that he may be right... Then the nunknew the copycat. It's a starting point. And I can't afford to leave any leaf unturned. Not when I have someone to protect.

I get back in my car and drive home, noting how late it has gotten. It must be a little after midnight when I get back to the house. My first thought is to go get cleaned up since I must be a bloody mess too.

"Marcello?" I hear Catalina's voice.

"Lina? What are you doing up at this hour?" She comes towards me and gasps when she sees the state I'm in.

"Are you hurt? God, what happened?" She frowns as she takes me in, her face full of worry.

"Not my blood," I say, and I attempt what I think is a smile. "I need to wash this off." I go towards my room and Lina follows behind me.

"Did you..." she starts, and her lower lip trembles.

"Did I kill someone? No. Did I help get rid of a body? Yes." I give her the short version of the story and unbutton my dress shirt. The blood has seeped through the material and is now staining my skin, the stickiness making me feel uncomfortable.

"Do you need any help?" Lina asks, shocking me. I look at my bare torso, and then back at her, lifting my eyebrows in question.

"If you want help, that is," she quickly rephrases and lowers her gaze, clearly embarrassed.

"And if I did..." I take two steps until I'm in front of her. "How would you help me?" I tip her chin up ever so slightly, reveling in the simple touch. Catalina may be the only woman in this world I can touch without a problem... and I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse.

"I can help wipe your chest." Her eyes are looking anywhere but at me.

"Really?" I drawl, enjoying seeing her like this. She just nods.

"Follow me." I show her to the bathroom and hand her a towel. Then I take off my pants, stripping down to my boxer briefs.

Catalina immediately averts her face.

"Is that necessary?" she asks in a small voice, her hand lightly covering her eyes.

"I wouldn't want to wet my pants now, would I?" I challenge.

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