Page 78

“He’s right.” Penelope walks around the desk, letting the knife drip on the plush carpet. The music pounds downstairs. I wonder how long it’ll take them to find his body. “Vas Pharmaceuticals has been hurting people for over a century.”

I pull Wolrath’s head back further. His terror is sweet on the air, even through the gas mask. It sweetens even more when Penelope steps up to him. She takes a deep breath and looks up at me, eyes flashing behind the cat face.

I nod once.

And then she slices open his throat. There’s no hesitation, no tremble in her hand. It’s like she’s sliced a hundred throats before. Blood fans out, hot and crimson, splattering across her chest and the bottom half of her face. She moans softly, runs her gloved hand through it, looking at it gleaming on the Lycra. I can taste her wonder on the air.

“Fuck,” she whispers. “That felt so good.”

Wolrath twitches and gurgles. I wrench his head sideways to break his spine—we don’t want to leave any doubt that this is the work of the same killer at the Mountain Thistle Motel. As he dies, I drop him, let him sprawl on the floor behind the desk. Then I jump over the body, nimble as a cat, and push Penelope away from his slow-spreading blood. “Don’t get it on your shoes,” I murmur, pushing her up against the far wall. “We still have to walk out of here.”

“I did it wrong,” she pants.

“You’re fine. I can clean you up.” I pull my mask off, breathing in the scent of death hanging in the room. Breathing in the scent of Penelope, too—her excitement and arousal and fear.

I push her mask up, revealing her pretty flushed face, the bottom half still dripping blood.

Then I kiss her. I kiss her, and I shove my knee between her legs, and she immediately grinds down on it, humping my thigh with frantic desperation. If we didn’t have to escape this party or worry about her leaving traces of her DNA behind, I would fuck her right now. Rip a hole in that catsuit and drown her in pleasure.

But it’s not possible, not here, and so I kiss her instead. I kiss her, and I lick the blood away from her skin, lapping it up like a cat. She moans, riding my leg, and I can’t stop myself from squeezing her blood-soaked tits, her nipples hard through the flimsy fabric of the catsuit, even though I’m not wearing gloves and some of Wolrath’s blood pools around my fingers.

That blood tastes of salt and meat, and licking it off Penelope’s warm skin has me harder than I’ve ever been. This is what I’ve been missing my entire life: sharing my monstrous nature with someone else.

“You did so fucking good,” I growl against her ear, licking more of the blood away from her pulsing throat. She needs to be clean when we walk out of here, after all. Our black clothes might hide the blood well enough, but it’s vivid against her skin. “We’re going to do that again and again.”

“Yes,” she pants, brazenly humping my lug. “God, I want to fuck you.”

“Not here.” I run my tongue in a long swipe along the side of her throat, sweeping up more of Wolrath’s blood. Penelope moans and clutches at my shoulder, her body trembling. I do it again, twining my tongue over her trachea. “Although it feels like you’re going to come anyway.”

Penelope makes a noise that might be a laugh or might be a moan of pleasure. She rocks harder against my thigh, riding it like she rode my cock that night we met.

“Yes,” she pants, head tilted back so I can keep licking the blood away from her throat. “Yes, I’m going to—fuck, is it always like⁠—”

She doesn’t get the question out, just buries her face into my shoulder to muffle her groans of pleasure. I hold her head there, breathing hard, feeling the heat of her cunt on my leg. My cock is throbbing. As soon as we’re clear, as soon as it’s safe, I’m going to bury it as deep inside her as I can.

But I know we need to escape first.

I pull away and tilt Penelope’s face up to mine. Her cheeks are flushed crimson, and her eyes are feverish and bright, but as far as the blood is concerned, she’s clean enough. I hold up my hand, where the blood from her catsuit mottled across my fingers.

I don’t have to say a word. Penelope draws my fingers into her mouth, never breaking eye contact. She sucks my fingers clean the way she sucks my cock, soft noises of pleasure fluttering in her throat. I hump against her warm, soft hip, and Penelope smiles around my finger and then pulls away. My hands are clean. Mostly.

“Promise me,” she says. “That as soon as it’s safe⁠—”

I grab her by the back of her neck and pull her up to me. “As soon as it’s safe,” I murmur against her lips, salty from the blood, “I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

Penelope grins. “And if I don’t want you to stop?”

“Then I’ll fuck you until you pass out.” I kiss her, plunging my tongue into her mouth, tasting more of the salt of Wolrath’s blood. I’m glad he’s dead, but I didn’t need his death to exorcise Mary.

Penelope needed it to free herself.

And now both of us need to get the hell out of here.

I drag Penelope away from the wall, slide her mask back into place, and put mine back on as well. “Come,” I whisper, threading our hands together. This part has me a little nervous, getting out of the party. But if we move quickly, we can make it.

And no matter what happens, I’m here to protect her.

I lead Penelope out into the hallway, dragging the door shut behind us. No one’s there, which I sensed in the office. Together, we glide down the stairs, into the music and the watercolor lights and the boozy scent of human sweat. Things picked up while we were upstairs, and there’s even more humanity crowded into the living room. Even their costumes can’t hide what they are. Not like ours do.