Page 70 of Turn That River Red

“She’s human,” I mutter to myself that night while I stroke my cock in the shower. “She’s human. She’shuman.”

But all I’m thinking about is her blood-covered cunt, her wide and fearful eyes.

I groan and shudder as cum splatters across the shower tile, then step back with my eyes closed to let the water run over me. I send my senses out to pick up on her—she’s still in the house, her body calm with sleep. I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t tried to escape, and I’m not sure what it means, exactly. If some part of her really does want to be here with me or if I frightened her enough to stay.

The fact that I hope it’s the former, even just a little, is a testament to how foolish she’s made me.

I cut the water off, get out of the shower, and towel down. The whole time I can sense her in the background, a human heartbeat pounding through the walls. It’s unnerving, truth be told. Being surrounded by humans at the Church of the Well was one thing—that was temporary, and I hada purpose. But this house is myhome. I don’t bring humans here except as meat. Matthew, my delivery driver, has, up until now, been the one exception, and I don’t let him inside. He knows his place, knows he can live as long as he’s useful to me. As long as he obeys.

I learned years ago the benefits of keeping a few humans around on a long but undeniable leash. They can connect me to the human world and ensure I don’t have to worry about details. But that’s not what Mercy is.

She’s something dangerous.

I get dressed, pulling on the same shorts and tank tops I’ve been wearing. It’s abominably hot, and the house’s creaky old AC unit can barely keep the heat at bay. I ordered similar outfits for Mercy this afternoon—sleeveless tops, loose cottony shorts, a handful of sundresses. I didn’t want to see her in any more loose-fitting bags.

If I could convince her to walk around naked for me, I would.

I check on her before going back to my bedroom—sheisasleep, lying on top of the covers. Max is curled up on the floor beside her bed, and he lifts his head when I come in, tail wagging.

“Good boy,” I whisper to him, and he settles his head back down on his paws. I like that he’s keeping Mercy company. I also like knowing I’m not the only fool in this house.

Roxi, of course, is waiting by my bed, just like she does every night. “You’re the smart one,” I tell her. “Not a good move, fucking around with humans.”

She tilts her head, ears perked up. I scratch her head and sit down at my desk, where I’ve got my laptop and Charlotte’s adoption files. I haven’t called her about them yet, mostly because I want to see if I can figure out who these people are. Give her a little something more to go on.

I flip the files open and stare down at the two names: JuliaMedina and Johnny Dobsals. I still think there’s a good chance Julia’s the human and Johnny’s the Hunter.

Still, I type both names into Google and click around, trying to see what I can find. There’s not much, not for either of them, and it’s hard for me to focus anyway. I keep thinking about this afternoon, Mercy staring in horror at Sterling Gunner on the TV. It is a little concerning that he’s finally got the cops involved. Maybe I should have taken a page out of Sawyer’s book and tried to make it look like Mercy was dead. Because it seems obvious to me that Gunner doesn’t think she is, which puts the heat on me.

Onus.

I sigh and click through to one of those people finder websites. Julia Medina’s on there—last known address in Kansas. No Johnny Dobsals, though. Or John Dobsals, for that matter.

Something shifts in the house, like lungs filling with air. Mercy’s awake.

I force myself to focus on my search, even though her being awake is distracting. Her body becomes louder. I can hear her heart echoing with mine.

“Johnny Dobsals,” I mutter, like my voice might drown her out. “Who the fuck are you?”

The floor creaks outside my door, and there’s no ignoring Mercy now. She’s lurking around in the hallway.

“You can come in here!” I call out before I can stop myself, smiling when I feel the jolt of her surprise and embarrassment. She really thought she could sneak up on me.

“Told you—” I push out of my chair and fling the bedroom door open to find her standing sheepishly in the hallway. “You can’t hide from me.”

“I wasn’t trying to.” She sounds defensive, though.

“You were trying to do something.” I cross my arms and lean in the doorway. She looks rumpled and pretty right now,her hair mussed from sleep. She almost looks the way she does after I’ve fucked her.

“I just wanted to see if you were awake,” she says darkly.

“So you can sneak out?”

Her cheeks turn red. “I don’t even have shoes.”

“You could stolen some of mine.”

Mercy toys with her hair, wrapping it around her finger. “What are you doing?” she asks, not quite meeting my eye.

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