“Marcus would have chosen you over me,” I whisper hoarsely.
“I doubt that, Lana. And I’ve already failed you once. I failed you worse than I ever could have imagined.”
“You didn’t fail me, Jake,” I say without turning around. “We were failed by everyone else.”
I twist my head around so that our eyes meet, and add, “But you? You’re the hero in all the fairytales that doesn’t expect the heroine to put out.”
He bursts out laughing, and I flash a smile before walking away. The smile falls the second I’m not in sight, and I put a hand on my chest, fighting the pain I don’t want him to see.
So much we learned. So much we know. So much we have going on at once.
And all I can think about is what Logan will do if he learns the truth.
Once again pulling up a façade of composure, I push through the door, and the killer inside me emerges, turning my heart to ice and my nerves to steel.
Kyle doesn’t even notice me until the door shuts and seals with a lock, the sound echoing around us.
His murderous gaze swings to me, but then he falters, his eyebrows raising in confusion.
“The fucking feds? The fucking feds are responsible for this?!” he shouts. “I’ll have you all on a fucking platter when my father finds out about this.”
A dark grin slithers across my lips like a serpent’s ominous smile.
“Oh, the feds have nothing to do with this, Kyle. Don’t you remember me?” I ask, my tone light but taunting as I take a step to the right, moving idly through the mirrored room.
He cocks his head to the side.
“You’re that fed’s girlfriend. Surely he’s not stupid enough to piss me off and leave me all alone with someone so fragile.”
His eyes drop down my body, the look in his eyes all too familiar as his gaze sweeps over me, leering, contemplative, calculated. “You really don’t want to do this, SSA Bennett! You have no idea what I’m capable of!” he calls out. “Playing games with me will end badly,” he goes on.
A voice comes over the com, as Jake decides to play a part.
“Actually, the feds are hours away, Davenport. Hope you don’t expect Daddy to save you tonight.”
Kyle tenses, looking around. He recognizes Jake’s voice, yet hasn’t placed mine. Well, that’s just insulting.
“Jacob Denver?” Kyle asks, confused as he looks around. “The fucking hell do you think you’re doing?” he demands, slamming his fist against the glass.
“Helping me reap a debt that’s long overdue,” I answer, smirking when his dark glare returns to me.
He tilts his head, and he starts coming right at me. “You want to fucking play? Let me show you what a mistake that is,” he growls.
“Please try,” I mock.
He lunges suddenly, and I dart to the side, bringing my foot up just in time to connect with his stomach. He barely gives himself time to recover before he’s grappling for me again, but it’s like watching a child fight with a teenage bully—the teenage bully being me.
With quick succession, I deliver one blow after another, my fist colliding with his nose; my knee making contact with his ribs. His cry of pain is like sweet music to my demented ears.
As I spin, my foot comes around, catching him on the side of the face hard enough to cause blood to fly from his mouth. His body spirals around and he collides with the glass, leaving a bloody smear before dropping to the ground.
As he spits up his blood, he glares over at me.
“Who the fuck are you?”
The music starts playing through the com; my mother’s voice wafts over us, serenading this moment with past memories that have his eyes widening and his features paling.
That song is what the Scarlet Slayer has been tormenting the town with. He’s starting to figure things out slowly.