Page 64 of Shattered Reflections

I tightened my jaw. “But you won’t, Lucius,” I said, knowing it was true, just like I knew my hand would never end his life either.

“We’re connected. Someway. Somehow. You’re infuriating and annoying, and most of the time, I want to kill you. But I can’t. You’re my true equal. My own fucking poison.”

Lucius’s jaw tightened, his eyes growing heated and heavy.

“Ever since I followed you, Little Shadow, I’ve been hooked. Unhinged. I wanted to kill you for so long, kept trying to figure out how you’re so fucking smart. You always evaded me at every turn. Drove me absolutely mad. I have never hunted someone down for so long without making the killing strike, but then I realized…”

Those melting emerald green eyes bore into me. With a roar of abandon, he released my wrists, grabbed my face, and smashed his lips onto mine.

With a soft whisper on my lips, he said, “You. Are. Mine.”

My Little Shadow had promised to leave. Her heated sex and pouty red lips were so fresh on my tongue.

I felt drunk as I dragged my ass into the little cottage. Gertrude already had fresh bacon sizzling on the stove despite it being only five am or so. I didn’t see the head of the house but assumed maybe he went off to tend to his livestock. They had, after all, gotten the scare of their plump ass lives.

My sister sat primly with her hands steepled. The effort she was trying to put forth was astounding. Her critical lessons in etiquette and manners were not at all beaten out of her.

I supposed those hours with a band tied to your chest, crucifying you to a chair, were not easily forgotten. Maybe Markus didn’t have worse torture to dish out than our dear old daddy.

“You’ve been out late,” my twin noted, staring at my disheveled appearance and swollen lips.

“Find a pig to frolic with, brother?”

I scowled at her, the thought of kissing livestock disgusting.

“How did you sleep, sestra?” I said, ignoring her greeting altogether, plopping down, and quickly swallowing the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

“Like the dead.”

It was a bit morbid for her life, but she always had a flair for the dramatics.

“Funny. So, we’re going to the location in a few hours. I walked to a gas station and used the phone booth. Did you know they still had those damn things? Anyway, I talked to Reggie. He said they would come pick us up here. There’s a private airstrip near here that they’d paid off.”

Eili, well Ivy, nodded curtly, standing up and brushing her tight black pantsuit down and smoothing her white blouse.

“Good. I’m going to go home. You can go take care of things without me.”

Nothing like sister Teresa to make me do her dirty work. I could tell she felt conflicted. Killing this girl wasn’t fun. It was business. Markus said she was a cop’s sister. If we let her go, she’d tell her sister everything, and orange wasn’t my color.

“Riiiight.”

I looked at Gertrude slaving over the stove, making scrambled eggs. Flashbacks of my mother’s dark curly hair hunched over the stove, making blini, syrniki, and kasha for my sister and I flooded my mind. It was such a small piece of happiness in my life—such simplistic times.

Looking at my sister, I wished that kind of peace for her. I wished her mother could come back to care for her, to offer the comfort she surely needed. She was always so strong, but even warriors needed protection.

“I love you, sestra,” I mumbled awkwardly at the door frame.

Eili, fuck…Ivy looked back at me. Her amber eyes pooled with tears. “I love you, brâtva.”

* * *

Boston was busy and loud, and the seagulls sounded like they were barking. The accents made my ears bleed, and I honestly couldn’t figure out why the fuck Markus would hide some woman away here.

Ivy said he had a liking for this girl. That he’d gotten attached, and in his sick world, not torturing her was being a king.

I stared at the note, my sister’s neat print on the paper. A logo of the hotel, she had copied down with the bloody scrawl marks that Markus had originally made.

I stopped at the crosswalk light, walking in the blazing heat because these fucking weirdos never used cars, apparently.

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