Page 5 of Beautiful Prey

“They certainly didn’t…”

“But I’ll try to make this brief. I only have a few questions…”

“What did you mean others like me?”

I was taken back at that. Mulling it over, I said, “Those who have committed severe crimes in the past, usually with mental impairment or some form of psychological distress.”

He dipped his head. “Such an academic way of saying psychopath. Is that the definition they make you recite from the textbooks?”

I smirked. “No, it’s on our Wiki site actually.”

A short hiss of breath was his laugh. “Cute.” He looked at me squarely. “Tell me then, Eve, am I your first?”

I clenched the pen in my hand but made sure to not let my expression slip. “First what?”

“Psychopath.” A flash of lightning from the windows brightened the room for a mere second, turning Emery’s eyes bright yellow. The image almost made me shiver.

“The first I’ve interviewed? No. That was the East River Strangler.”

His eyes darkened. “Pity.”

I tapped the pen on my notepad. “But if it makes you feel better, I’ve been dying to interview you for a long time.”

He studied me. “Really?”

When I crossed my legs, I caught his eyes flickering down. “Yes, really. You fascinate me. That’s why I was hoping you would talk to me.”

His chains scraped against the seat. “Wow. I’ve heard of this before. Women who get off to killers. Who go to their court sessions and make babydoll eyes at them. Pretending the killerwould turn back, see them, and think, ‘Damn, she just changed me with one look. I’d kill a dozen girls but not this one. No. I’d marry this one. And we’d live happily ever after.’ A twisted, fucked-up fantasy, but you know, for you, I’m flattered. I might just consider it.”

I clenched my jaw, feeling my heart pounding in my ears. “You’ve got the wrong idea.”

He leaned forward. “Do I?”

He was seriously flirting with me? Hell, did I just give him that impression? No. No, no, no.

“I just want to ask you a few questions.”

He made an irritated noise before straightening. “Questions. That’s all I’m good for.” He turned his head to glance behind him as if seeing someone there. He whispered something under his breath, but I didn’t quite catch it.

I had his attention, and it was a rare, precious thing. But as soon as I brought up questioning, he wanted to draw back into himself. He wasn’t interested. At least not now. But I couldn’t miss this chance.

I could always find ways to get answers. And I needed to keep him with me. Everything I had rehearsed was already up in smoke, so maybe I needed to improvise.

“Alright,” I said. “You got me. I won’t pump you for answers, but only if you tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

There was dark amusement in his gaze. “Mmm, that wouldn’t be very appropriate.”

“Try me.”

He clenched and unclenched one hand. “How about I promise you I will another day.”

My brows rose. “What makes you think you’ll see me again?”

He turned his head again as if someone was whispering something in his ear. All I saw were shadows.

“Emery?”

He turned back to me. “One question. I’ll give you one tonight.”

---