Page 68 of Make Me Lie (Rich Demons of Darkwood 1)

Aurora

Iglanced down and realized my arms and legs were splattered with blood from the knife fight. I’d wiped off my hands at some point, but that was as far as I’d gotten. I looked up and met Cain’s eyes, which seemed to glow with interest as if he’d just come alive.

“It’s not mine.” I shrugged. “Surprised to see me?”

“Should I be?” His tone gave nothing away.

“Someone kidnapped me today. I thought they might be operating under your orders.”

His brows rose slightly. “No.”

He was always hard to read. “How do I know you’re not lying to me?”

“You don’t.” He dropped his book beside him, pushed aside the blankets and rose. He was wearing only boxers, his big cock tenting them as he stalked toward me. He crossed his arms over his chest, studying me. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” The headache had already faded, healed by my adrenaline rush escaping the frat boys.

“Did you hurt them?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, of course you did.” His thumb swept along my jawline, turning my face up to his as he studied me. “Are you going to hurt them more?”

“Undecided. Right now, I’m not so sure about you, either.”

“Oh, little devil. I’m disappointed in you. I’d never send anyone else to hurt you when I’m so happy to do it myself.” His gaze flickered toward the cross in the corner. “Did you want to play tonight?”

“No,” I said, and as soon as I said the word, I realized maybe it was a lie.

Remington had gotten me started thinking about taking my life back from The Demon. My father’s letter had made me imagine how hard it would be for The Demon to hurt Cain. One psychopath in my life might well be the match for the other.

I wasn’t going to play by The Demon’s rules anymore.

He was watching my face, and his fingertips slid up my cheekbone to rest on my temple before he tapped my forehead twice. “What’s going on in there?”

He sounded genuinely curious.

“Always trying to figure out how real humans work, Cain?”

He tilted his head to one side, his gaze intent. “You’ve got me figured out, don’t you, little devil?”

“I think I’ve got some of the pieces.”

“The question is, do you know ifyou’rea real human or not?” He was studying me, then smiled faintly at whatever he saw on my face. “No, you’re sure about me; you see something you recognize, but you don’t know about yourself yet, do you?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. I didn’t feel a damn thing about stabbing two men tonight, but there was a flicker of warmth, of vulnerability, I felt with Jenna and even these men that made me wonder if some spark of humanity was alive in me still, despite everything I’d seen and done.

True psychopathy requires both a genetic predisposition and a trigger, but humans can be broken enough to mimic psychopathy pretty damn well.

“Tell me what happened tonight,” he said, then moved away, falling into his desk chair. “Amuse me, Aurora.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you want to. You want to tell someone.”

I let out a laugh. He reached for a bottle of whiskey on his desk, poured two glasses, handed me one. He added, “You want to tellme.”

“I don’t like whiskey,” I said as I took it.

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