Page 106 of Taming Seraphine

He runs his fingers through his hair. “You’ve been so busy with her.”

I inhale a deep breath. “Her situation is fresh, and it’s a lot more complicated than yours. With Samson Capello still living, we have to focus on taking him out before he becomes an even bigger threat.”

“You’re right.” He bows his head. “I just… I want to help.”

“The work you’re doing for me means more than you can imagine. I rely on you to find information that others can’t. When this situation is over, we’ll have plenty of time for extra training, if that’s what you want.”

Miko nods. “Thanks. I won’t let you down.”

“I know.”

We drive back to the apartment in a comfortable silence, but I can tell something between us has shifted. Miko has turned from the self-sufficient young man who matured under my care to a boy who needs my attention. The way he’s going about it is all wrong though. Once the situation with Seraphine eases off, I’ll ask him again if he wants to follow in my footsteps. I suspect the answer will be no.

I walk Miko to the apartment next door and thank him for his help. He’s eager to go inside and doesn’t linger. But as I approach my door, I hear an anguished scream. And it’s coming from deep inside my unit.

Shit.

My hand reaches for my gun.

FORTY

SERAPHINE

A mistake?

A MISTAKE?

Sex was part of our agreement. Why the hell is Leroi changing his mind? This morning, he gave me the most romantic gift—Julio Catania tied up in tight knots, ready to suffer for his sins.

Leroi even presented me with a set of tools and a box of shiny new knives. Killing Julio was supposed to be part of my training. He was a demon I needed to slay to get my mind straight. I performed the task to perfection, and I earned my reward.

I didn’t ask for a kiss, but he gave me one. He broke his own rule, whispered all those words of affection, and gave me more pleasure than I thought was humanly possible. He called me beautiful, all but told me I was special, and when I came apart under his tongue and wanted more, he said no.

No more for me. Nothing for him and no explanation that made any sense. No renegotiation of the boundaries he crossed, and no apology. He just said he’d made a mistake. All that other bullshit he said about waiting for me was just his way of stalling.

Now, he’s disappeared from the apartment and left me alone to stew on his rejection. My skin itches so much that my cotton sheets feel like sandpaper, and my clothes feel like the ropes Gregor and Samson used to keep me restrained.

That’s why I’m sitting between his silk sheets with my back propped up against his silk pillow.

I want to scream, but there’s no one to scream at. I want to slash things, but Leroi has hidden the knives. Instead, I’m drawing all the things I would do to Leroi if I got the chance.

In one picture, he’s on his knees in the shower, but it’s spraying blood. After he licked my pussy, I cut his throat, and blood pours down his sculpted chest and onto my feet, swirling down the drain.

In the second picture, he’s standing up in the shower with his erection pointing toward my mouth. I wrap the yellow tape measure around his shaft and balls, then I open my mouth to reveal jagged rows of teeth, like a great white shark.

He cries fat, blue tears, and a speech bubble pops out of his mouth where he begs for mercy. My forked tongue lolls out like a snake and laps up the white droplets dripping from his slit.

In the final picture, Leroi lies on a four-poster bed with his arms secured to the posts. He’s naked, of course, and fully erect. I’m walking toward him with a claw hammer and telling him to choose between loving me and getting a new hole in his body.

The final portrait is of me, sitting on a throne with my blonde hair styled like a crown, Leroi is on his knees, sucking my toes. I don’t bother to color it in because my eyes are growing heavy. There are only so many hours a person can stay furious. Besides, my red pen is running dry. Bled out like the men I’ve killed.

All I wanted was an apology and an explanation that makes sense. Was that too much to ask? Leroi makes up the rules as he goes along, and I can’t keep up. He’s warm, he’s cold, he’s horny, he’s aloof. My quest for vengeance is hard enough without having to navigate his mood swings.

I slip my notebook under the pillow, slide down the sheets, and close my eyes. Now that I’ve taken the edge off my anger, I can sleep.

Killing Julio eased a weight off my mind. I finally feel like I’m making progress, even though the list of people I want to kill has increased by one more. When I wake up tomorrow, I’ll ask Leroi what we’re going to do about Samson.

Samson is out there somewhere, looking for me. There’s no Gregor to tell him to calm down and no Dad threatening to break him if he damages his asset. Samson can now hurt me in all the ways he’s always wanted with no one holding him back.

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