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Don't think of her.
Too late.
Aisling's face detonates in my brain, and I hate her for haunting me. She's dead and gone, and it's her own fucking fault. Avery reminds me of her—ninety percent attitude and ten percent infuriating—except Avery is afraid of the flame, not enchanted by it. And Aisling never could quiet my noise. If anything, she made it even louder.
"I don't trust you," she tells me.
So her IQ is in the triple digits. Good to know.
"What's the worst I can do?" I tease with a wink.
For the record, I can do a hell of a lot, but she doesn't know that, not yet. I see her imagination try to run wild and watch as it trips over its own two feet. That's okay. My imagination more than makes up for it.
Cages and cells.
Mirrors and mirage images.
Floggings and flash paper.
Branding and burns.
It almost makes me cream my pants thinking about it. I bite my tongue to bury my moan.
Like I said, there's a hell of a lot I plan to do with her. I watch as she mulls it over. She's curious, but she knows what, proverbially, killed the cat.
The longer I stare at her, the more I'm certain she's going to make me do it.
That's all right, though.
I'll be the villain. Heroes haven't done a damn thing for her anyway.
17
GABE
Iwanted her to have her choice, but she's forcing my hand. I can't wait for her to decide to go with me. I may never get another chance. I don't have time to give her the illusion of control. I have to find another way.
"Don't make me do it," I tell her.
When she looks at me stupidly, I repeat my statement, the words flat and dead, just like my soul. "Don't make me do it."
Now I have to say I don't care if she makes me do it. I'm just feeling remarkably lazy and very hungry. I need a snack, a nap, and to fuck her. Well, not in that order.
She blinks her guileless blue eyes, the color of spring rain, at me.
She's going to make me do it.
Sighs.
The guards normally wouldn't care, but they've been so far up her ass lately that I'd rather not blatantly draw attention to ourselves, even during shift change. I can't risk being sent to the hole, not now, when she could be gone before I have a chance to make sure she stays. Sure, Headmistress would lie to her father first, if necessary, to continue milking the cash cow, but who's to say her father isn't a total moron and sees right through her bullshit? I'm not willing to risk everything.
I always try to use the empty classrooms, the abandoned hallways, and the places where I know the staff isn't looking. Shift change is almost over, though, and our little homestead in hell is getting crowded. The hall fills with students and staff members, and I pocket the lighter in an instant before one of them wakes up and notices.
She's making me do it. It's her own fault.
Ugh, fiiiiiiinnnnnnneeeeeee.
In one second flat, I capture her by the arm and yank her down the hallway. In another two seconds, we're around the corner. Three seconds later, I have her between me and the stone wall, in the spot where the light doesn't quite reach and the shadows take over. I've got one hand pressed tightly against her throat, almost but not quite cutting off her air. I pluck my lighter back out of my pocket, and in one fluid motion, I roll the wheel, press the button, and ignite the flame.
