Page 22 of Scarlet Mark
Pulling open the door, I eyed his jacket hanging inside and frowned at the empty space. No sign of my belongings, but maybe his pockets held something of interest.
Sure enough, a dagger rested inside an interior compartment. Small, but sharp. It fit in the palm of my hand easily.
This was much better than the butter knife.
And I had the advantage with him being passed out.
Oh, but first, I needed that device. Which, of course, wasn’t in his coat. It had to be on him somewhere. I could find it after I took care of him.
My heart skipped a beat, the notion of taking his life not appealing. He wouldn’t be the first, but that didn’t make this any easier.
Remember your training,I thought with a breath.You can do this.
Sweat trickled across my brow, the heat of the room seeming to swarm around me, causing my steps to slow as I neared him. The two times Malcom made me kill for him, I’d poisoned my victims post-sex. They told me what my master needed to know, and I rewarded them by slipping a lethal concoction into their drinks.
I hated myself for it.
Hated Malcom, too.
Hated thislife.
And here I was, about to kill for a third time. Not because he made me do it, but because I had no other alternative. I couldn’t go back to Malcom. I knew what he would do to me, the scum he’d sell me to, and recognized what my future would become.
I lifted the knife, aiming for his neck, knowing it would be the quickest way to incapacitate him. But I hesitated. My hand literally froze inches from his neck, my conscience perking up her ugly head and screaming at me about right and wrong.
He’s one of them,I told myself.He’s working for Malcom.
My resolve wavered, my grip tightening, my need to escape pushing at me for freedom.
One swipe. That’s all. A quick cut across his throat. It’s not hard. Just move.I bit my lip, stealing a deep breath through my nose.Now or never.
I swung, my limbs shaking, only to have the world shift from under my feet. A shriek left my lips as I landed hard against the mattress, Killian on top of me with the blade pressed to my throat. My wrist burned from whatever twist he’d done to dislodge the weapon from my hand, his chest hard against mine, one of his thighs pinning me to the mattress.
He tsked. “Oh, sweet Amara. When you hesitated, I thought you might care.” The metal kissed my neck, causing me to shiver. “Rule number one: never turn a dagger on someone who knows how to use it better than you do.” He slid the knife menacingly across my skin, leaving a sting in its wake. “Rule number two: always follow through. Hesitation is what will get you killed.”
His words shattered the last vestiges of will I had inside me.
I’ll never break free of him.
“You win,” I whispered, exhausted.
“Darling, I won the moment I found you.” He trailed the knife downward, slicing through the cotton of my tank top with expert ease. He made it look so simple, as if he did this every day. And maybe he did. However, cutting clothing like that took skill, something he clearly possessed.
I squirmed, the caress of lethal steel against my skin leaving me hot and cold beneath him.
“This is pretty,” he murmured, drawing the tip of his knife over the swell of my breast as my chest rose and fell in quick succession. “If we had more time, I’d pick up where we left off in the club.”
Meaning we were meeting Malcom’s men soon.
My throat went dry, my hands curling into fists.
If I fought Killian, maybe he’d kill me. That had to be a better fate than what lay ahead. But did—
I hissed as he pressed the blade to my nipple through the thin lace of my black bra, the sharp point pricking my sensitive skin. His palm landed on my sternum, holding me down as I instinctively arched into him.
“Careful, kitten,” he murmured, his opposite hand still holding the knife against my breast. “I’ll draw blood when I want to, not because you’re forcing me to.”
I shivered, confused by the prickle of desire rushing through me at his words and the touch that followed. The palm against my sternum moved to my throat while his opposite hand drifted downward, dragging the knife along my skin to the lace of my panties. A twist of his wrist had the band snapping at the side, leaving my hip exposed to his blade.
