Page 18 of Slay Me

My gaze lands on the door that leads to my bedroom. Pushing myself to my feet, I manage to keep one hand on the wall and slowly make my way inside. A wardrobe I had converted for moments like this stands tall directly across from me.

Another wave of pain nearly takes me to my knees.

I move as fast as I can, knowing, if I were to shift now, this entire fucking building would go down around me. Which means the woman who lives directly below my penthouse will likely not survive.

It’s that thought that gives me the energy I need to close the distance. I rip the door open, not bothering to take my clothes off, and step inside. Back to the two-inch spikes mounted from the height of my shoulders down, I slam the door.

My body is punctured in a hundred different places, the blinding pain nearly unbearable. But, as usual, the beast subsides, retreating long enough for my injuries to heal. Breathing in here is excruciating, but I’ll take damn near anything if it means keeping my identity a secret.

If word got out—I’d be hunted. Mercilessly. And even I don’t know if I have the strength to fight off the innumerable supernaturals who would be coming for me and everything I’ve built. No one in my presence would be safe.

Which meansshewould no longer be safe. And that’s just a risk I am unwilling to take.

* * *

Two hoursin the wardrobe and my beast is manageable once again. I can still feel him, though, lurking just beneath the surface. Rage is a trigger for me, so when Valentina steps out of her room and into the hallway, it takes all my strength to maintain a steady presence.

The pixie pouts, sticking her bottom lip out far enough that I can see the dark pink. The woman is relentless, spending every waking moment trying to manipulate her way into my bed. Something that, no matter her efforts, will never happen.

If I need a fuck, I get it away from here. Someone who doesn’t know me, who I don’t know, and who won’t give two shits about me in the morning.

“What is it?” I don’t break stride as I move past her.

“You never come see me.”

“I’m uninterested, Valentina.”

“You didn’t used to be.”

I stifle a growl. I’d nearly given in,once.“Because you were interesting then.”

She lets out a gasp that makes me want to drive fucking daggers into my ears. “I’m not interesting to you anymore?”

No. You’re fucking pathetic.“Is there a purpose to this interaction?” I demand, coming to a stop to face her.

“What the hell do you see in her?” She crosses her arms. “Liv is weak. Pathetic. Barely even a supernatural.”

Her words burn me from the inside out. I’ve always known Valentina was awful. The very reason she’s here is because she tried to kill her sister over a fae who was sleeping with them both. She’s entitled, selfish, and her crazy streak is a hell of a lot deeper than it appears. Yet another reason to avoid getting close to Liv even though doing so would surely make controlling myself a hell of a lot easier.

I can’t risk the crazy-ass pixie losing her shit and attacking the fury. With that in mind, I step closer and lean in. “Stay the fuck away from her, Valentina. What I do with the fury is not your concern. You would have been a mistake. Time to move on.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re just now figuring that out?” I call back as I make my way toward the big top. It sits in the center of what used to be a social courtyard for the apartments that make up a horseshoe around it. The tent takes up nearly every square foot of what I imagine used to be bright green grass.

I shove open the flap to the tent, unsurprised to see Killian, Duncan, and Bracken standing just inside. The three lion shifters I use as security are the only ones I trust in this entire fucked up world.

“She’s going to cut your cock off and feed it to you one of these days,” Killian comments as they move in behind me and toward the back of the tent where my private office resides. His gauged ears are rocking black circles now, his nose hoop a matching shade. Where Bracken is covered in ink, Killian has more holes in his body than a pin cushion.

I plop down in the chair behind my desk and groan. “If she did that, there would be no chance she could have it, which is counterintuitive to what she seems to be after.”

“Is there a chance?” Duncan arches a light eyebrow and studies me curiously.

“No.” I shift my gaze to Bracken and the file in his hands. “What do you have for me?”

Bracken offers it to me and then crosses his arms. “Rogue shapeshifter. Hiding here in No Man’s Land.”

“Abilities?” I question as I open the file and scan the information we have on the fucker. There’s no picture, which isn’t exactly surprising since they look like obsidian humanoid shapes. In their natural state, they have no faces, no distinguishing features.

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