Page 55 of Of Desire And Deception

“Do you know how many joints there are in the human body, Bogdan?” I asked as I hummed to the music. He was too busy spitting blood and the lingering taste of metal and gun oil from his mouth to answer. “Three hundred and sixty. Should I show you some of them?”

I pointed the pistol at his kneecap, and he squirmed as if there was a chance of evading a shattered knee. Futile, really. I pulled the trigger but stopped short of destroying the patella.

“Fucking coward,” Bogdan rasped.

I looked up at him through lowered lashes and offered him a grin that showed him the monster inside me. “I just thought of a fun game we could play. A real-life version of operation.”

He sucked in a breath as I wheeled a metal embalming table to where he was restrained, forcing it under his body and strapping his legs down before I released him from the suspension chains. After so long in that position, he was too stiff to offer much of a fight, and I had his arms strapped down a minute later.

“This is perfect,” I mused as I perused my selection of implements, finally settling on a butcher knife and a small filet knife. I set them on his stomach and removed his clothes with a pair of safety shears to expose the areas of the body I needed.

“You’re insane,” he panted, his fingers trembling with terror.

“I’ve never thought otherwise.” I pulled over a surgical stand and set the knives on it before retrieving a few other things. “There. All set. Since I’m so kind, I’ll give you a nerve block on this arm.”

I prepared a syringe and got to work on a brachial plexus block to ensure my guest couldn’t feel anything below the shoulder. As I waited for it to take effect, I reached for a combat tourniquet and applied it to the arm.

“What are you doing?” Bogdan’s voice wavered as I tightened the strap. He didn’t cry out, though, which meant he couldn’t feel it.

I picked up the small filet knife and touched it to his knuckles. They didn’t twitch. “As much as I want to see your blood run down this table, it would significantly shorten our time together. Tell me, Agent, have you ever had to break down a chicken or side of beef?”

“N-no,” he stuttered, his eyes widening as I sliced through the first knuckle on his pinkie. “Stop!”

“It’s really quite simple,” I continued, ignoring his plea, and watched the rivulets of blood drip onto the metal. The knife made quick work of slicing through the joint, and soon I held the tip of his pinkie up, admiring my handiwork. “A good, sharp knife and a little practice is all it takes. The human body isn’t so different.”

“You don’t have to do this!” he shouted, making me cringe. “Join us! I-I’m sure I could convince my boss to take you in if you give us the others.”

Funny how watching your own body deconstructed in front of you caused a change of heart. The dirty agent gagged, and vomited, sputtering and choking on his bile.

“Shh.” I hastened through the other joints, severing the finger completely and setting it on his bare chest, where he could feel the quickly cooling digit. “You should know two things.”

I hummed "Symphony No. 5" by Beethoven as I removed the remaining fingers and thumb from his right hand.

“First, it’s too late to beg unless you’re giving me the name I want,” I glanced over at him, watching as he warred with himself. When he shook his head, I shrugged. “Second, I would never betray my family.”

Tears ran down his face as I severed his hand and reached for the electrocautery tool. “Gotta control the blood loss.”

The stench of scorched flesh tainted the air, and Bogdan gagged, but his stomach was already empty. I repeated the process until nothing was left below the elbow, and his arm and fingers sat splayed across his body. He passed out before I moved to his other extremities, waking up with a delightful guttural scream as I deconstructed the opposite arm.

And so it went for the next hour. Tourniquet, slice, cauterize. Until he was an unconscious stump of a man, humbled by his own choices in life. I glanced at the clock and swore as I took in my blood-soaked arms and torso, realizing how late it was. I’d told Wynn I would take her out after her shift.

I sliced through Bogdan’s carotid and sighed with disappointment at the anticlimactic end. There wasn’t enough time to clean up my mess, and I felt the familiar crawling sensation under my skin as I decided to leave it until later and shower.

It was wildly stupid, but my draw to Wynn was greater than my need for cleanliness and order. I donned a new pair of jeans and a black button-down, then grabbed my jacket and shoved my feet into my boots. The club had closed half an hour ago.

My footsteps echoed through the hall as I raced to the upper level, schooling my breathing and straightening my hair before I pushed through the basement door. Wynn stood by my office door, typing on her phone, but turned toward me with a smile. The sight of her made the memories creeping under my skin subside, and all I could focus on was her blonde ponytail and the way her lips curved up for me.

“Hey,” she said tiredly. “Are you ready to feed me? After tonight, I could eat a three-course meal. Only in pancakes, French toast, and waffles.”

I grinned at her transparency and wrapped my arms around her waist when she reached my side, kissing her breathless. “Let’s go, then.”

I’d found it—the perfect ring for Wynn. When I laid eyes on the round black diamond surrounded by a square frame of white diamonds and white gold, I knew it was time to make my intentions more official than moaned promises during moments of passion.

Black and white. My dark and her light. The shadowed thing that lay inside both of us, surrounded by the light of the sun. I’d purchased it on sight, hoping the size was close enough. The saleswoman had nervously told me they could size the ring up or down accordingly and breathed a sigh of relief when the transaction was over.

The little black box nearly burned a hole through my pocket as I walked down the street, my thoughts racing. How did you ask a woman to marry you?

I’d have to call Niccolò for his advice. Dante didn’t have any experience with it since his marriage had been arranged since childhood. And Romeo had, in essence, blackmailed Riona into a relationship. No, Niccolò was my best option.

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