Page 13 of Taming Seraphine

“No.” I shake my head.

His brow furrows. “It won’t be safe here.”

“I’m not leaving,” I say, my voice rising several octaves. “I can take care of myself.”

He studies me for what feels like an eternity. Weighing his options, as if I’m an injured bird trying to fly on broken wings—does he offer aid or does he put me down? I’m not helpless, but I can’t reveal my skills without putting myself in danger. Straightening, I hold his gaze until he nods.

“Lock the door tonight and don’t open it until tomorrow. Is that understood?”

I nod, my lungs deflating with relief.

As Leroi walks to the door, the words slip out before I can stop them.

“Wait.”

He pauses, staring at me from the corner of his eye.

“Why are you helping me?” I ask, my voice hoarse. “What do you want in return?”

His expression softens. “No one should have to suffer what you’ve been through. Especially not a kid.”

My shoulders droop as he leaves the room, taking with him some of my peace of mind. Five years ago, I was sixteen and my biggest problem was failing my driving test. I had friends, a mother and father, and an older brother who was about to go to college. Now, all traces of that life are gone. The last vestiges of my childhood were corrupted by blood.

I don’t believe Leroi wants to help me out of the goodness of his heart because I’m young. Every sick bastard I killed thought my baby face and small stature made me easy prey. He might even want to use me as an assassin. If he plans to use Gabriel as leverage, I’ll just have to strike out at him first.

* * *

Leroi wasn’t joking about the men being dangerous. At some point in the evening, I woke to the smell of cannabis fumes and raucous laughter. When I peeked out through the door, there were over eight men sitting around the dining table playing cards.

I’d gone back to sleep with a stomachache from overeating, but now I’m wide awake. My head no longer hurts, and the pounding between my ears has dulled to a roar. A large hand roams beneath my sweatshirt, and calloused fingers close around my nipple.

Disgust clogs my gorge. My jaw clenches, but my training commands me to remain perfectly still. I must have forgotten to lock the door when I spied on them earlier. The groper’s hand travels down my jogging pants to my crotch.

“You like that?” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. It stinks of tobacco and stale alcohol.

Images surface from the dredges of my memory. I’m crouched at a door, helpless and cowering, while a crowd of men?—

No.

Fury surges, filling my mind’s eye with a haze of blood. I can’t be disappointed in Leroi because I’ve been in these situations more times than I can count. He’s just the same as the rest of them, and he’ll suffer the same fate.

“You’re a pretty little thing,” he whispers.

My fingers close in around the steak knife.

The blunt tip of his penis presses against my lips, making my eyes snap open.

It’s not Leroi. The man grinning down at me and holding his shaft is shorter, paler, fatter, with bloodshot eyes. Years ago, a situation like this would have thrown me into a flurry of panic.

But not now.

Anticipation wraps around my throat like a garrote, choking off my air. Now, I’m holding my breath, waiting for the right moment to spill blood.

Fuck the steak knife. I’m about to need something sharper.

“Mmmmm,” I make a pleased sound in the back of my throat.

“You want it, baby?” he rasps.

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