Page 28 of Reaper's Hunt

“Wait, who is he?” I sit back farther in my seat, trying to understand this man’s mind. “The guy she was killing?” I also don’t knowwhoshe took into that motel room but that’s a question for later.

“Oh no, she’s not his,” he cackles. “That would’ve never happened. I mean the one watching her. Thinks she’s his, but she isn’t. She’s my sparrow. And yours. I don’t know who he is, but I don’t like him. He was watching tonight, too. I think so but it doesn’t matter.”

Malik mentioned someone else before but I wouldn’t even know where to start. However, added with the information someone is out to get her, I’m getting a little more nervous about her wellbeing.Just a little.

Malik pulls away from me completely, digging out his phone and then flipping the screen toward me. “It’s okay. I claimed her. See?”

Desire slams through me as I stare at the photo he took. Selene’s there, her dress rucked up past her ass, bunched around her hips, blood soaking into her side from the dead guy beside her, her long gray hair stained crimson. She’s the perfect vision of depravity. Swiping, I catch a second picture. It’s blurry but it’s clear she’s pissed, probably because she loved it and hates herself for it. I wish I had been there, wish I’d seen her break like that, wish I’d been the one to ruin her. “Fuuuuuuuuck.”

Malik’s eyes dance, his grin never fading as he takes the phone back from me. “She’d be pretty between us,” he purrs and I can tell he’s already fantasizing about how he’d take her apart again. Hell, I’m thinking about it now too.

It takes me a few moments not to do something stupid like dragging Malik’s pants down and sucking his cock so that I can gorge myself on their combined deliciousness. By the time I’ve controlled my breathing and willed my cock to deflate, I head back onto the road toward home. “Selene needs to process and as much as I’d love to watch you go back over and claim her again, the more hands involved in this shit, the more likely it’s gonna go south. I’ll make sure she’s okay, but you stay the fuck home.”

Malik cackles as he leans back in his chair, staring down at his hands. “You’re just jealous.” His lips quirk a little wider before he sucks one of those digits into his mouth, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. I know for a fact that it’s not Selene’s blood, which means he’s imagining that it is. I’m not sure what’s worse at this moment.

And I’m still fucking hard for it.

“Yeah, I’m jealous,” I push out, forcing myself to focus on the road as he starts cleaning off the next finger. “Been fantasizing about doing that same damn thing for years. But I also know if I show up to help with you in tow, she’s gonna rip our throats out. She needs time to process.”

“Process what?” he asks.

“Process the way you just consumed her.” Because it’s true. I know how Malik fucks and he fucks like a wild man, he fucks to devour and to mark. It’s a lot for anyone to digest, even for Selene. “I’m not sure how I can keep everything I know from her much longer, either. Harley’s getting a little too close and our girl needs to know she’s got someone in her corner.”

Malik hums as he sucks on the last finger and then licks his palm. “My sparrowisours, isn’t she?”

She is and I love it. The hard part will be making her see that. Correction, the hard part will be making her understand that we’re not going anywhere. For once in my life, I want to be more than a fuck. I want to be her home base.

Selene

Mylegsarestillshaking as I step out of the motel bathroom, my body thrumming with the sick, electric energy of being fucked over a dying body. Some part of me wanted to stay dirty and bathe in it while fucking myself on my fingers in the shower, recreating the beautiful scene my mysterious stalker gave me.

Just the fantasy of him filling me again, grinding me into the gore until I’m nothing but his, makes me shudder. Dante fucks me like he owns me but that man fucked me like he wanted to break me, and for a moment, I wanted it, wanted to show him the jagged, broken parts of me and see what he’d do.

Then reality crashed in. I let some unknown fucker screw me while I carved out the mayor’s son’s heart. Got my hammer back, my knife too, but he’s got a picture now of me bloody and ruined, and no clue where that’ll end up. And yet,still, like a fucking weirdo, I’m running my fingers along the small cut across my cheek, my pussy throbbing and yelling for me.

My phone vibrates on the table by the bathroom, a tight smile forming on my lips.

Gonna dream about you, Sparrow.

And now I’m torn between wanting to hunt him down and wanting to spread my legs for him again.

I shove the phone into my back pocket, the black clothing concealing every inch of skin, my hair pinned on top of my head and hidden beneath my hoodie. The cleanup is just as important as the rest of this because leaving the wrong clue will lead right back to me. Unfortunately, no matter how good I am, Harley will eventually make the connections.

I’ll play innocent, bat my lashes, and lie through my teeth until I can’t, then I’ll disappear and become someone new. Wrapping Philip in the no-drip bedding was the perfect option and something I should have done with the last guy. No one’ll suspect Philip died here while I was getting fucked, his heart smashed in that cute banana jar on the dresser, the glass streaked red because I squeezed it too hard when my mysterious stranger mercilessly pounded me into the mattress.

My gaze trails over to the jar, the heart a mangled lump, and I sigh, hating that I couldn’t protect the organ the way I wanted to. Even so, I quickly check the room again, making sure everything is clean and packed, that there are no stray blood marks that will get me caught. It’s not perfect, it’ll never be perfect but my blacklight doesn’t turn up anything specific.Well done, bitch. Should have applied all this hard work to medical school.

Ishouldhave but this is way more rewarding. Once Philip is fully wrapped up, I stuff him into the empty duffle bag I brought in before wondering how the fuck I’m supposed to lug him downstairs. There’s no cameras to worry about but a person sized duffle bag will stand out. Glancing at the window, my lips twitch into a deviant smile, a reckless thought sparking in my head. “Oh, I so shouldn’t do that,” I murmur, but the idea’s too good.

I lug the duffle to the window and shove it open, before leaning over the windowsill to check what I’d be hurling this body into. There’s just a large dirt patch and I know for a fact that there’s only a hallway beneath my room which means no windows to see this duffle bag falling through the air.

Perfection.I shove the body out the window, a cackle escaping me as I then shut the window and grab my bag to ditch this place completely.

There’s no good place to drop Philip, nothing thatfeelsright but if I don’t dump him soon, the mysterious caller will have my ass. I just need something symbolic enough and that’s when I see a park bench as I turn down yet another road in some of the darkest parts of Ashthorne. God, Philip didn’t deserve to go out this way but I don’t have any other choices. It’s 15 minutes to midnight.

I pull up a few feet away, taking a cursory look for cameras and passerby. Nothing comes up so I rush out of the car and into the backseat, undoing the bag and the bedding before carrying this man onto the bench. I lay him down, making it seem like he had died out here, alone and afraid. When he’s perched just right, I grab his phone from the passenger seat and quickly delete all traces of me and my texts.

I chuckle, realizing that I wasn’t the only one he was texting, a lovely message sent to someone named Helena just as we left the restaurant. He said he’d meet her at the bar around midnight which means I still have a few moments of wiggle room. Chewing on my lip as I search for the best response, I find some horrid excuse and tell her that Philip’s schedule is free Saturday evening. Then I slip his phone into his pocket and stare down at the man for a little longer.

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