“As you can see, I was correct about the collarbone,” he said. A grin spread across his face. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Makes you feel alive.” He paused and scanned the length of her body. His eyes traced over the blood, distracting him momentarily. He pulled himself back. There was more blood to be had.
“Did you know the clitoris has three times the amount of nerve endings as the entire head of a man’s penis?”
She let out a strained whimper.
“Answer me,” he said.
Tears poured down her face as she shook her head.
“You didn’t? Well, aren’t you lucky you have such a knowledgeable teacher? Be a good student and pay attention.” He placed the tip of the knife on the button of her jeans. “I have no interest in mutilating your feminine parts. I’ll need those for later.” His cock jerked at the thought of taking her cold, lifeless corpse.
“Please let me go,” she begged. “I’ve never done anything to you. Please.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“Let me go, you sick bastard!”
“Mind your manners,” he growled, and pressed the flat of the blade to the skin of her forearm. When she didn’t react, he pulled the weapon back, looked at it curiously, then laid it on her skin again. His eyes narrowed into thin slits. “What’s this? A werewolf not affected by silver?”
Her head hung from her neck like a broken limb. He placed the dull surface of the knife under her chin and lifted her head, forcing her to meet his eyes.
“What are you?”
“I’m nothing. I’m just human.” She held eye contact.
He slapped her across the face. Her head jerked to the side, and he admired the red mark that marred her cheek. “You can’t be a human. The werewolves wouldn’t have anything to do with you.” He scanned her up and down as if she were some newly discovered species. “You’re not a regular werewolf, and you aren’t a Berserker....”
“A what?”
He ignored her and continued. “So what are you?”
She didn’t respond.
“I asked you a question.”
She bit her lower lip and shook her head no.
“Have it your way.” He sheathed the blade again. He crossed the room and retrieved a coil of rope, then removed a key from his pocket. She struggled against her shackles. Without a word, he grabbed hold of her feet and wrapped the rope around her ankles, binding her legs together. Then he unlocked the shackles.
She toppled to the ground in a pathetic heap. He grabbed both her wrists in one hand and bound those, as well.
He stared at the pinkish-colored rash ringing them, where the iron had begun to...eat away at her skin? “What’s this?” he said, lifting her wrists into the light of the single bulb overhead. He clutched her by the upper arms and shook her hard. She flopped in his grasp like dead weight. He threw her back onto the floor. Her back hit the concrete hard, and her curls spilled into her face.
“What are those?” He shoved her head to one side, smashing her cheek into the floor. His fingertips ran over the top edge of her ear. “Pointed ears.”
She panted like a distressed dog until he released her. She writhed until she slowly inched away from him.
“A faerie.” A devilish grin spread across his face as he made a tsking noise with his tongue. A more interesting victim than he’d thought. A rush of glee overcame him. “This is going to be interesting.”
AFTER THIRTY-SIX HOURS of hanging around outside K9’s in the hopes of running into Allsun, David changed his tactics. Sure, he’d also been waiting to see if Jace would finally manage to shift, but every waking spare moment had been spent thinking about her.
Now David stood outside the steps to the Temple Building apartments and sighed. He’d taken a major risk coming here. Allsun wouldn’t exactly welcome him with open arms. Wheedling her home address out of Frankie had been for Execution Underground purposes, or at least that was what he’d told her—and himself. But he knew his motives had been purely personal. After five years of missing her, he just couldn’t let her go again so easily.
He lingered outside her building, thinking this was probably one of his dumbest ideas yet.
He climbed slowly up the steps, glad his new walking cast meant he didn’t need crutches anymore. His finger hovered over the call buzzer. A tight feeling squeezed his lungs. He wasn’t sure he could handle it if—or when, most likely—she told him to get lost. With a deep breath, he sucked up his feelings and pushed the button.
He waited for her voice to come over the intercom. Nothing. He pushed the button again. Still nothing. He pressed the buzzer several more times, but there was no response. She had to be there, because he’d been watching so long that he would have seen her if she’d gone out. Could she see him from her apartment and just wasn’t answering? Looking up, he examined the windows. Not a single set of blinds or curtains open. He checked his watch. Almost midnight. She must have left and he’d just missed her. Defeated, he turned to leave just as the front door creaked open.
A man poked his head out. “Can I help you?”
David assessed him. He looked like he belonged on a magazine cover, the kind of guy who couldn’t walk past a mirror without admiring his own reflection.
“Yeah, I’m looking for Allsun O’Hare. She might go by Allie.”
The man nodded. “Oh, yeah. Cute little thing, mop of curly hair? Apartment 209.”
A slight surge of protectiveness pulsed through David. If he hadn’t been sure this guy swung the other way, he might have been pissed. “That’s her.”
The man looked thoughtful. “You know, come to think of it, I haven’t seen her since yesterday, actually. I’m the super here, by the way. Victor.” He stuck out his hand.
David shook his hand but didn’t introduce himself. “Nice to meet you. Look, is there any way I could get up to her apartment? Just in case she’s there and the buzzer is broken.”
“The buzzer’s not broken. I heard you because I have a master receiver and it buzzed in my room. Usually I don’t allow nonresidents to come in without being buzzed up.” He eyed David up and down, and grinned. “But since I haven’t seen her, I think it would be good to check on her. Come on up.”
David ignored the super’s flirtatious look and followed him up the stairs. After two flights, they stopped outside door 209.
Victor knocked on the door. “Allsun, it’s Victor. There’s someone here to see you.” He paused. Nothing but silence answered back. “Allsun, are you all right? Are you in there?” He knocked again.
“Can we go inside?” David asked.
Victor shrugged. “I guess.” He reached to his belt and removed a large set of keys, then sorted through them until he found one marked 209. He slowly opened the door and stuck his head inside. “Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh.”
He stumbled back. David’s heart stopped beating. He threw open the door and burst inside, gun drawn. “Holy hell.”
The apartment had been ransacked. The desk had been overturned, scattering office supplies across the floor, and books had been thrown in every direction when the bookcase had been knocked over. Someone had ripped the sheets to shreds. The words
“Where are you going? I need to call the cops!” Victor yelled after him.
