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Send down the curtain.
The girl I’ve always wanted to murder is about to take her bow.
Choking, losing her grip, Serafina Redfang falls into the same dank hole she just crawled out of.
I follow more athletically, dropping into the secret passage cushioned by a raging pheromone cloud that turns my sister into a twitching bundle of leather-wrapped legs.
Some sane, still-functioning part of me begs me not to kill.
I’m not supposed to be a threat.
But when Serafina defiantly peels herself from the floor, frothing pink at the lips?
I love being a monster.
“Another bastard.” Serafina coughs. “Thought we killed you all.”
“Missed one.” I strip her knives, keeping my pheromones just strong enough to make her suffer without passing out.
“I don’t have time for this.” Serafina swats my boot like I’m keeping her from her manicure, which is already perfect—black coffin-tip nails decked in diamonds. “Kill me or fuck off.”
“What’s the rush?” I bite back the urge to make it happen.
“You—” She chokes.
My sister is sheathed in leather from her thigh-high boots to the corset bustier that bares her unmarked throat.
Awful fancy for a dungeon. “Were you supposed to be the MC?”
“You have no idea what you—” She hacks until it clicks, and then she shoots me the look.
The same wrinkled-nose, what-the-fuck glare everyone gives when they realize I’m the source of the stench. “What is that?”
“You tell me.”
“Cigars and newsprint.” Serafina shudders so hard her pupils shake. “You smell like part of the fucking family.”
I shelve that for later, reeling back my scent so she can speak without swallowing her tongue. “Are you running the auction?”
“I was running away. You’ll want to take notes for when Daddy hunts you down.”
“Daddy?” My eyebrows lift to my hairline and possibly outer space. Before I can ask what kind of daddy we’re talking about, a gas-masked face appears in the door hole.
Elyse curses. “Reel it in, Stinkbug.”
Shit shit shit.
I yank myself from the edge, but my scent lingers, snitching what I’ve done.
I’m floored when Serafina doesn’t do the same.
Instead of ratting me out, instead of doing anything I expect, my sister shoots Elyse a look of pure, Redfang venom. “Who’s the bitch?”
Do I despise my sister more than pre-dawn cardio?
Yes.
Do I cackle?
