Page 17 of The Hellkeeper

"Call the police?" I continue. "You don’t even have a phone. And every shop on this street is closed. No one to help you. Run? You don’t want to run, Amelia." I drink in the scent of her fear, her skin, her everything. "You want answers."

And I’m going to give them to her.

She stares at me like I’m something out of a nightmare. Maybe I am.

"What’s your name?"

"Damien. Damien Reed."

"And you," I mumble, "are Amelia Ward. Soon to be Amelia Reed."

"You’re insane."

I watch her like a puzzle I’ve already solved. "You say that like it changes anything."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what? Protecting you?" I ask. "Making sure no one lays a finger on you? Spoiling you the way you deserve?"

I see the conflict in her eyes. There’s a part of her that wants to understand.

"Couldn’t you just approach me like a normal person?"

A normal person.

"Why would I hide myself from you, Amelia? This is how our life is always going to be."

"If someone hurts you," I continue, my voice dropping lower, "I’ll bring you a piece of them. So you’ll know I avenged you." I smile. I hope it comes across as comforting, but I know it terrifies her too. "If we argue? If you tell me to sleep somewhere else? I’ll crawl under your bed and stay there until you want me back in it. I won’t pretend to be something I’m not. I won’t lie to you."

"You’re insane," she repeats. "Absolutely insane. A maniac."

"Your maniac. I would burn the world for you," I hiss. "I would rip through hell just to bring you to me."

She grips the sheets like they’re the only thing holding her together.

She stutters out, "Are... are you the Hellkeeper?"

The words catch me off guard. I frown. "The what?"

"The Hellkeeper."

"No, angel." My fingers graze her thigh, just a whisper of touch. "I’m the man who will bring you heaven."

I make a mental note to research the “Hellkeeper”.

She recoils. Good. I like her like this; trying so hard to be strong.

"How many other women have you terrorized?"

"If you mean obsessed over—only you," I say. "And if you think making you drip in diamonds and silk is terrorizing, then you’re very, very wrong."

It’s the truth. She’s the only one who’s ever sunk into my bones like this. Other women? They were nothing. Just flesh. A means to an end. A scratch to an itch.

But her? She’s fire licking up my spine. A hunger that won’t quiet.

Enough of her questions. It’s my turn. "Why don’t you have any records here?"

"No school history, no university, no doctor visits, no bank accounts." I cock my head. "It’s like you’re a ghost."

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