Page 25 of His

The window was covered with wooden boards screwed in on all sides. He let me go and I leaned one hand against the wall.

Gav reached out and clicked a handcuff around my wrist. I jerked my arm back, but he had already locked the other cuff onto the water pipe next to the window.

“What?” I looked down at my wrist dumbly.

“That’s so you don’t try any other stupid escapes. My alarm system is up again, remember? I’ll know you’re out before you can go two steps. So don’t try, little kitten. Even if you manage to get out, it would be suicide.”

He opened his mouth as though he was going to say something else, then closed it. A hot rage clutched at my chest. I stammered. He couldn’t do this. It was bad enough, being held captive in a basement. Now I was handcuffed to a pipe?

“Please, no.” I stepped toward him but the handcuffs held me back. “I promise I won’t try to escape. I promise. Please don’t handcuff me.”

“Should have thought about that before, kitten.”

“Please. What if the basement floods? What if there’s a fire?”

“Then I expect you’ll die. Don’t pull too hard on that pipe. Wouldn’t want a flood.”

Anger choked my throat. He’d fed me, helped me. Strangely enough, I felt betrayed. I don’t know what I had expected from him, but he had managed to make me think that he might have some feelings for me. But now he was leashing me up like a pet. My mouth was dry, but I wasn’t about to ask him for water. He’d probably set a bowl on the ground for me to drink out of.

He tossed the blanket at my feet and turned to leave. A thought popped into my mind.

“Gavriel?”

“What is it?”

“You said you don’t believe in guns.”

“That’s right.” His silhouette was dark against the light coming from the top of the stairs.

“But you told me before that you had a gun. You said you’d come down and shoot me if I tried anything.”

“I lied.”

“Y—you can’t lie!” I blurted.

“Of course I can,” he said, and even though I couldn’t see his face I knew that he was smiling. “Haven’t you ever heard of an unreliable narrator?”

He closed the door and left me. My eyes still blinked, as though if I tried hard enough, I could see something in all of the darkness around me.

Gav

That afternoon I went to the bar on the outskirts of town not far from where I lived. It was where I sometimes went to pick up women. Yes, I do that too. I’m a normal person, really, except for the killing bit. The shadow that hugs me so tight I can’t breathe.

Numb. That was a good word, numb. That’s how it felt when the shadow closed in.

But I had killed not long ago, and the craving was satisfied. The world was bright again, and I could see. My kitten was locked away tightly.

On the television I watched the news coverage. After an hour spent sipping beers, I saw the first mention of the case. My kitten’s photograph came up on the screen, and I looked down at the rest of the bar. Nobody cared. Nobody watched. Nobody knew the pretty young thing who had been abducted.

There was no mention on the news about her parents. No family at all. Nothing but a college friend, a girl with more piercings than I normally gave my victims, tearful and begging for any news about my kitten. She looked familiar, somehow.

With a snap of recognition I recoiled from the bar counter.

She’d been working at the library. She’d seen me.

My heart began to beat faster and I lifted my beer to my lips to hide my discomfort.

“Another one?” the bartender asked.

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