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A whole bunch, in fact.
But every minute we spoke was a minute he didn’t stab me.
Yeah. That’s why, Fae.
Keep telling yourself that.
He drew slight circles with the flat edge of his knife, sending fireworks from my core to my toes. “You do.”
“How do you know?”
“You reek of it.” His jaw clenched under smooth golden skin. “And I’m a soul collector.”
Are you drunk?
He didn’t look it, but he sure sounded it.
I meant to ask, but all I could manage was, “You collect souls?”
“The most underrated currency in the world. Everybody wants one, and they’re hard to come by. That’s why people purchase art. Art makes you feel alive.”
“Only if you’re already living.”
“Even if you’re a breath away from death,” he countered, drawing an indecipherable pattern against me. Just when I’d thought nothing affected him, he spared a single glance downward. The blade grazed the tiny sliver of bare skin above my waistband. “Once I have someone’s soul, they’re a pawn in my hand.”
This man’s brand of fucked up made Michael Myers resemble a Teletubby. A psychology thesis could be written on how well he managed to hide it with ethereal looks and flawless manners.
I wondered if Vera and the girls were eavesdropping on us from the living room.
From this angle, we couldn’t see beyond the vacant doorframe, but I wouldn’t put it past them. They loved good gossip almost as much as they enjoyed seeing me punished.
I tapped my lips. “Know what I think?”
“No. You can keep your two cents. You look broke.”
I ignored his quip. “You’re hiding something. You don’t seem like the type to carry weapons around.”
I realized, after I said it, that I wasn’t really scared.
Enthralled, angry, and ready for battle? Of course.
But scared? As crazy as it sounded, even with his knife aimed directly at me, I didn’t truly feel unsafe.
He shook his head. “You have no idea what kind of man I am.”
His dusky, gleaming eyes scraped down my frame. I seized the opportunity to grip the knife. I aimed for the handle, but my fingers accidentally brushed against his.
Zach hissed, pulling away like my touch had branded him.
His expression turned feral.He stumbled back, eyes glazed over with something I’d never seen before.
Not on him.
Not onanyone.
His back bumped into the sink with a loud thump. I was so surprised by his visceral reaction, I staggered in the opposite direction, too.
“Donottouch me.”
