Page 49 of Bird on a Blade

Too dangerous.Fartoo fucking dangerous.

I murmur her name and brush her hair away from her face. She stirs a little, eyes rippling beneath her lids. I hate to admit it, but my cum looks gorgeous on her skin, pale and pearly. A pretty picture that I snapshot for when I’m alone and need release.

She moans a little, her body stirring. I push myself up and grab one of my clean T-shirts out of the little closet. Then I sit down next to her on the bed, lift her head into my lap, and wipe my cum away.

Her eyelids flutter open and her eyes settle on me, her gaze soft and unfocused.

“I’m sorry about that, baby,” I say softly, wiping off the cum that had spilled down the side of her neck. “I worried—I get carried away. I ain’t—” I swallow, don’t look her in the eye. “I ain’t normal. But I guess you knew that.”

“Sawyer.” Her hand reaches up and trails along my jaw. Her touch is weak, but it’s enough to get me to look at her. Fuck, she’s beautiful right now. Her skin flushed, her lips swollen. A tear trail streaking down the side of her right temple.

Wrecked. Destroyed.Murdered.

“I liked it.” The words barely came out a whisper. “I—I don’t think I’ve ever—you choking me and me touching myself. It was?—”

Her words dissolve into a sigh as she settles down in my lap, and I stroke her hair like I’m trying to smooth it down.

“I’m glad,” I say, honestly. “But don’t give me a scare like that. I don’t want you dying on me.”

She laughs, and it’s kind of delirious, the way people will laugh right before I kill them. “This whole situation is so fucked.”

I don’t want her talking like that. I scoop her up so we’re both sitting properly, then I pull her into my chest. She falls into me, sighing almost happily, and I wonder if this is what it’s like to have a girl who doesn’t care what you are. That just loves you.

She doesn’t love you.

It’s Mama’s voice. I hold Edie tighter like that’ll drive it away.

She burrows into me, pressing her nose into my throat. When she speaks, I can feel the warmth of her breath, and it’s reassuring, knowing that I didn’t just kill her.

“Sawyer? What—areyou exactly?”

I feel myself go still. Edie shifts around and pulls back to look up at me, blinking her big brown eyes.

“I told you,” I finally say.

She frowns. “You told me you can’t die,” she says. “And clearly—” She gestures at me. “But why? And why do you—” She stops and swallows, her pretty throat bobbing. “Whatareyou?”

The question kind of hangs in the air, as heavy as the lingering humidity from the storm. I sigh and pull her into me again, then draw both of us down to stretch out on the bed. It’s so perfect right now, everything dark and cool and the sweat drying on our skin and my body all loose from coming twice, that I don’t want to ruin it. But I can feel her worrying the question beside me. She’s not going to give it up.

“My mama called us Hunters.” I say it to the ceiling, not to her, the tiles stained with old water. “I have this friend, Ambrose, he calls us boogeymen. Even though we’re not all men.”

I force myself to glance over at Edie. She just looks confused.

“Your mother?” she says.

I laugh. “Yeah, I’ve got a mother. She’s like me. A Hunter, or whatever.” I stroke my hand over the soft cloud of Edie’s hair. “You won’t be meeting her.”

I mean it as a joke, and I’m relieved when Edie laughs. “You will not be meeting my mother either.” She pauses for a second. “I guarantee she’s worse than yours.”

I chuckle at that, and Edie rolls over on her side, peering up at me. I can’t stop myself from running my hand down the dip of her waist, her flesh soft and grabbable.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Oh, no.” She shakes her head. “No, no. This isn’tSilence of the Lambs.We’re not going back and forth on questions until you finish explaining what you are. Hunter doesn’t cut it.”

I roll my eyes.

“Boogeyman, though…” She frowns thoughtfully. “So you’re… supernatural?”

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