Page 37 of His

“Kitten, these men are not good men that I kill. They are wifebeaters. They are child abusers. They pay off judges and slip through the cracks. They’re the real monsters. Sometimes I go to their funerals and watch their family weep… with relief.”

“How can you tell?” I asked. I wasn’t sure if I believed him. Isn’t that what any serial killer would say? Don’t they always blame their victims? But maybe if he thought what he was saying was true... maybe he wouldn’t kill me.

“I can tell any emotion,” he said. He brought his free hand up to my cheek and caressed my jawline with his thumb. “That’s how I know what you truly feel about me.”

“You disgust me,” I whispered.

“In part, yes. But I also attract you, even now. My touch thrills you. You want me to take you, to fuck you.”

“No.”

He stepped back. Amusement danced in his eyes again.

“No, not yet. Not right now. But you will. And when you want it, I’ll be here waiting. Until then, take my present.” He held out the necklace again, and again I heard a softening in his voice.

“Will you take off this handcuff?” I asked.

His eyes flickered over, and I believe it was the first time he realized then that I was still locked to the pipe. He stepped forward and took off the cuff without another word.

Free. I had both hands. I rubbed my sore wrist, my upper arm feeling for the spot where the razor was. Now, maybe. If I had the chance—

“Take it,” he said, holding out the chain.

I reached out and took the necklace, my fingertips brushing against his. Despite myself, I felt a thrill when he touched me. Damn him! Damn myself! I coughed and turned my attention to the charm, hoping that he wouldn’t see the evidence of my attraction in my face.

“Where did you get this?” I asked.

“It was my mother’s.”

“Where does she live?”

“Nowhere. She’s dead. I was looking through her things.”

I didn’t dare ask the question that was floating through my mind:Did you kill her?Then I remembered the noise I’d heard from upstairs.

“Was that why I heard you screaming before?”

His eyes flashed down to mine, and there was danger in them. A frightened anger. I had stepped into something I didn’t understand, and there was more here than I wanted to know.

“I wasn’t screaming.” His voice was hoarse, too quiet. It sounded like the rasp of a rattler’s tail before it lashed out to strike.

“Fine,” I said quickly.

“Do you want to wear it?” he asked.

I nodded. I didn’t want to make him angrier than he already was. I could sense that he was on the edge of lashing out, and I sure as hell didn’t want him to lash out at me.

He took the necklace back, and again I felt the brief thrill of his touch on my hand. He unclasped the chain and motioned for me to turn around.

Facing the back wall, my hand moved up under the shirt I was wearing. My fingers touched the outline of the razor. I could pull it out now. I could whip around, slice through the air, slice through his throat. If I aimed right, I could cut his jugular and escape, run, run—

His fingers slid under my hair, brushing it to one side. At his touch, I shivered. The sight of his teary eyes, the tremble of his voice—I couldn’t do it. Not now. Something held me back.

Maybe it was that I wasn’t a killer myself. Maybe I was scared that it was dark, and if I messed up I would ruin my one chance at escape. Maybe I felt sorry for him. Whatever the reason, my fingers retreated, leaving the razor tucked safely in the bottom of my bra.

He brought the chain over my head, encircling my neck. On the nape of my neck I felt his knuckles graze my skin as he closed the clasp shut. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine that we were a married couple, and he was helping me get ready for a dinner party. A sense of security swept through me, a warm feeling. The strangest feeling.

Gavriel bent his head and kissed my naked shoulder, his lips trembling almost imperceptibly against my skin. Kissed me like a husband, like a gentle lover. His words were a whisper that floated faintly to my ear in the darkness.

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