Page 29 of Beyond Hate

The room London had led the man to was in the area of the building with the most privacy—there were cameras trained on the hallway leading to and from the back rooms, but there weren’t any on the specific doors.

Probably so the men who stayed to blow their load after a private dance could feel like there was at least a modicum of privacy.

Either that or because their emergency exits really shouldn’t have been left propped open. There was supposed to be one way in and one way out, so tracking who’d come back here should have been simple, in theory.

This life, my last life… any life, really… I was more than happy at ineffective security measures, because they made doing nefarious things so much easier. Maybe the person this body used to belong to—the one who’d been a true, cold-blooded killer—had gotten up to more misdeeds than I had… but that was fine.

I had the instincts of a boy trained by a cruel mother—the drive of a man reborn and driven mad by some unknown need for revenge.

All of those lives wrapped into one made me the thing my family never could. I was the perfect killer, honed by multiple lives of bloodshed to back up the claim… and I knew without a doubt that I wasn’t going to leave this building tonight without blood on my hands.

It was just a question of who was going to bleed for me. I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore… I just knew every second that London was in the room with that asshole who’d leered at him while he danced, who put his hands on him as soon as he could, was another cut, another tear.

More blood.

Being away for a month had only convinced me further that London, Nikki, whoever the person in that body truly was… he was mine.

It drove me forward silently, and I could hear music coming from two different rooms. I didn’t hesitate, though. I’d watched London dance. I knew his body. I knew he preferred a beat that was deep and slow, something that thrummed into your bones,instead of the fast sound pulsing from the room behind me. I’d been fascinated with the way he seemed to come alive on the stage. Nikki hadn’t danced, but London moved like he lived in the pulse of the music.

So many ways they were different…

At least I had the forethought to slip on a pair of dark gloves. As much as I wanted to feel the heat of blood soaking into my fingers, there was something I needed more.

I didn’t have to be quiet as I stepped into the room—the slow, grinding pulse of the music London was dancing to covered any sound I would have made. I even took the time to close and lock the door behind me.

The man London was dancing for had his back turned to me. The room was surrounded in mirrors, but his eyes were all for London in pink lingerie, all for the one thing he had no right to look at.

No right to touch.

And his fingers were on London’s hips as he swayed them a few inches above him.

I didn’t think when I moved, I just stepped forward and yanked him out of the chair. At least I took the few seconds necessary to turn his body, so when I slid a knife across his throat, cutting off a gurgled plea for help with lacerations deep enough to slice through his vocal cords—the arterial spray soaked the mirrors and not the shocked man who was standing there, staring at me with wide eyes.

“You’re not very good at listening, are you, London?”

“Otto—” The gasp that ripped from his throat was cut off with a small shout as I unceremoniously pushed the now limp body to the side and slid easily into the vacant chair. My brow arched as I looked up at him, my eyes roaming over the little lacy panties and bralette he’d stripped down to as I pulled off my bloody gloves and slipped them into my pocket.

I couldn’t reconcile this image with the one I had in my head of Nikki. Looking at him, I couldn’t see my wayward brother at all. That was the problem, though, wasn’t it?

Even though I couldn’t see Nikki, I stillfeltthat same inexorable draw, the want and need that had gotten me into so much trouble back then. It reared its ugly head and made sure I knew vengeance wasn’t the only thing that had followed me through one life and into the next.

This was here too. I’d felt it at the facility when I’d dragged him to safety. I’d been so confused then, wrapped up in gunfire and the feel of his mouth on mine—torn between thewantto kill Nikki and theneedto keep London. I told myself after that I’d only saved him because I wasn’t finished, but he’d been right before.

I was a liar… and I didn’tlikelying to myself.

I wanted him. I’d wanted him while he was trapped in that room. I’d wantedLondoneven when I realized he was nothing like Nikki at all. I’d wanted him in the month I’d been watching him, careful to keep myself away, drunk on learning how he moved in a world without me.

And I wanted him now, dressed in pink lace and looking at me like I was his nightmare come to life.

“I’m pretty sure he paid for the room… Better not make his entire life a waste, London.” I gestured to him with the bloody knife I still held, and his eyes widened. “Go on, dance for me.”

“Otto, I—”

“Did you really think I was going to let you go, little rabbit? I told you I’d come for you.”

Evendeathcouldn’t make me let him go, apparently. And the few weeks we’d been apart? The few weeks I’d been watching him? Knowing he was here? Knowing he was at his apartment with his asshole of a boyfriend who’d left those marks on his face the first night I’d seen him?

Well…

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