Page 105 of Taming Seraphine

Seraphine has spent the past five years as a Lolita assassin. She’s become a killer, and has paired it with seduction and sex. The only thing I can do for her is redirect those urges. The last thing I want is to sleep with Seraphine and wake up eyeless, castrated, and carved a new orifice.

That shit is hot when she does it to some deserving asshole. Not so arousing when that mayhem is directed at me.

Unlike most men who have crossed her path, I’m going to set boundaries, even if that earns her hatred.

* * *

She’s sullen for the rest of the day and barely speaks when I take her to the park. Miko meets us at the shooting range, and she glares at us from the corner, barely participating when Miko updates us on his research on Samson’s whereabouts.

I’ve fucked up.

The last time Seraphine was this quiet was her first day, when she wouldn’t speak unless the subject was about Gabriel. She’s interpreted my refusal to exploit her sexuality as a rejection and can’t see that this situation is a double-edged dilemma.

If I give her what she wants, then I’m no better than the monsters she’s trying to kill. When they’re all slain, she’ll come to her senses and add me to the list. But if I deny her, then I’m a bastard who breaks her heart.

Better to be thought of as a heartless bastard than for an avenging angel to tear out a vital organ. Or cut one off.

Later, she can’t even muster the enthusiasm to take out her fury on innocent vegetables and hides in her room, refusing to eat. I stare at her closed door, wondering what the hell I need to do to make things right.

I could abduct Paolo Rochas? He covered up that Samson wasn’t dead, and is probably our best chance at finding the surviving Capello twin alive.

If there’s enough time, I could pick up Mike Ferrante. Thanks to Catania’s knife-point confession, we have two priority targets from the list of Capello’s surviving guards.

While Seraphine is moping in her room, I venture to the apartment next door and pick up Miko, who is more than enthusiastic to help on another mission.

Paolo Rochas has leased a Lexus from Capello’s Car Rentals, which Miko has tracked down to a brothel in the east end of town. We park across the street and wait, armed with a tranquilizer gun and a plan.

Once Rochas leaves, Miko takes the shot, rendering the bastard unconscious. We load him in our car and head for an empty warehouse the firm owns on the outskirts of town. Underneath the building is a soundproofed basement, where we secure him to a chair bolted to the concrete floor.

“Should we wake him up?” Miko asks.

I place a hand on his shoulder. “This one belongs to Seraphine.”

He stiffens. “But she isn’t here.”

“I’ll bring her tomorrow, after breakfast.”

He bows his head but remains silent. I give his shoulder a squeeze. “If you’re so determined to enter my line of work, then you should start by reading about assassinations.”

“But Seraphine gets to torture and interrogate people after a week?” he asks. “I’ve been with you for years.”

“And you’re the best support guy a hitman could have.” I wrap an arm around his shoulder and steer him toward the exit.

“I want more.”

“Seraphine is an experienced killer with a worthy vendetta. The men we’re hunting are her quest, not ours.”

Miko’s posture sags, but he follows me out of the warehouse and back into the car. He’s sullen and unusually quiet on the drive home and buries himself in his phone. I keep my gaze on the road, wondering where the hell I went wrong with this boy.

“What brought on this change?” I ask.

“Huh?”

“Your interest in becoming an assassin coincided with the Capello job.”

Miko shifts in his seat. “I don’t want to be behind the scenes anymore. It’s got nothing to do with Seraphine.”

“Really.” My voice is flat.

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