While she fought temptation, he embraced it. If the flush to his cheeks was any indication, he’d recently soaked the gauze-like material he had wrapped around his skull, his tie to his fairy master, with the blood of his latest victim. She couldn’t tell for certain, though. A black baseball cap infused with fairy magic hid the blood-soaked cloth.
A smile tugged at his mouth. He leaned his big body against the lamppost and slipped his thumbs in his front pockets. His nonchalant stance quickened her breath. She faced him and twisted her hand to reveal the obsidian blade she carried.
Laughter shook his chest. She fought the trembling in her hand at his dismissal of the only weapon that would kill him and waited for him to make a move.
They’d acted the same scene out for years, ever since he’d killed her mother. Only once in all that time had he ever captured Harley. Most of their encounters mimicked a cat-and-mouse game where he always let her get away. One day he wouldn’t. She knew it in her soul. Her time was running out, in more ways than one.
He glanced from her face to the window above her. His grin widened into a sneer, showing off a mouthful of pointy, razor-sharp teeth. Her heart skipped a beat before pounding wildly.
No, please no.
Not needing the confirmation but unable to stop herself, she inhaled and caught the stench of death seeping out from under the door behind her. A tremor racked her frame. No hiding it this time. She trembled while Raul’s deep laughter drowned out the sounds spilling from the bar next door.
Hatred grew and stirred the taint she carried. The desire to give in to it warred with the knowledge that doing so was exactly what Raul wanted. Each time she embraced her rage, it opened her up to the chaotic power of the world around her and fed the living evil attached to her soul. The dark stain grew, ate away at her insides, and sickened her. It was slowly turning her into a monster, forcing her to embrace her heritage.
Making her Unseelie.
But not today. She wouldn’t let it happen.
She locked her knees and met his mocking gaze with a derisive one of her own. Minutes passed while she held herself in check, but a scream from somewhere inside her apartment building broke their silent battle.
Raul winked at her and ambled away as if he didn’t have a care in the world. No chase. She didn’t know if she should be glad with the turn of events or wary. She tracked his lumbering frame with her gaze until he turned the corner.
With her hand still tightened around the knob, she twisted it and flung the door open. The small entryway split into a narrow stairwell and an equally cramped hallway. She rushed up the stairs, following the anguished cries. More screams added to the mix. She skidded around the corner and pushed against the shoulder of the college kid from the floor above. He stumbled into the wall with her shove but flung out an arm, stopping her from getting past him.
“Stay back, Harley.” He swallowed hard. “Ms. Erville was murdered. Bastard freaking mutilated her. It’s not something you want to see.”
She nodded in acknowledgment of his warning but scooted under his arm and ran the last few feet. The open door revealed a sight she’d seen too many times over her life. Her gut rolled. She choked on the bile burning her esophagus. No matter how many times she’d seen Raul’s handiwork, it always affected her the same way.
She cupped her hand over her mouth and swept her gaze over the scene. Blood coated everything. The walls, ceiling, and furniture were dotted in red, but most of the liquid soaked the tan carpet around the tipped wheelchair. Harley forced her gaze from the dark stain spreading out from the chair to the body slumped over the armrest.
Bea’s tongueless mouth hung open, and the pinkie of her right hand was gone. A gash cut across her thick throat while more slashes decorated her arms and legs. Eyes wide, she stared vacantly, but Harley felt the weight of her empty gaze. The accusation in it cut at her, left her with yet another sin to carry and another memory to haunt her dreams. She accepted it, exactly as she had the last time she’d seen a similar corpse and the one before that. Each and every murder Raul committed was her fault.
He followed and tormented her by killing those close to her—friends, neighbors, people who’d said hello to her.
Harley hated the fact she endangered everyone around her, hated the bastards who sought her, and hated herself. She’d welcome death, but she couldn’t embrace it.
Words had power, and she’d promised to live—no matter what.
Chapter Three
“Wake up, lady.”
Someone shook her. Harley stifled a scream and automatically reached for her blade. She froze with her fingers wrapped around the hilt and blinked hard against the bright sun. Confused brown eyes focused on her. Awareness returned. The cabbie. She slid the dagger back into her boot.
“Hey, sorry to startle you, but we’re here.”
“Yes, yes, thank you.” Harley glanced out the window. The Callahan estate loomed before her, the place where her living hell had begun and the one she’d avoided for nine years.
She glanced away before the sight of the mansion sent her into a panic attack. In an effort to delay the inevitable, she adjusted the beanie she wore, shoving the strands of her hair that had slipped free back under the knit fabric. More spilled out. She cursed, yanked the cap off and dropped it in her lap. With trembling hands, she twisted the length of her hair and carefully stretched the hat over her piled tresses, hiding the platinum curls that always drew looks from men and women alike.
Unable to linger longer, she clutched her backpack, grabbed the bag of food she’d picked up in town, and
