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“It depends on how accessible he is. I may find him within an hour, but if he’s stationed on a remote island with an army surrounding him, it’ll take time to get to him. Keep in mind that this man is stupid rich and has nothing better to spend his money on, so this is entirely possible.”

I tilt my head in curiosity. “Richer than you?”

“Absolutely. I have no interest in collecting more than what’s necessary. Money is an illusion, and a powerful one. It turns men into spineless assholes with no real regard for human life except their own. Xavier will use his money to protect himself. Especially because he’s a little bitch and, well…” he peers up at me with a savage smile. “I’m pretty fucking scary.”

He serves dinner, saving me for last. The hairs on the back of my neck rise as he approaches me; my body warming as he draws near. He crowds over me when he sets my plate down, the heat radiating from him sinking beneath my skin. Then, he leans down, and my brain short-circuits. I can’t decide if I want to embrace the darkness or run from it.

Hot breath fans across my ear as he whispers, “Not only am I scary, baby, but I’m really, really angry. And when I’m angry, I’ll make them pray for Hell.”

A shiver rolls down my spine, and goosebumps spread across my body like the Black Plague. I tip my head towards him, meeting his stare. My pounding heart climbs into my throat, creating an erratic pulse in my neck, and a palpable tension circulates the space between us.

Against my better judgment, my eyes slide down to his mouth, thickening the tension. Deliberately, he skates his tongue across his lip, and like a magnet, my gaze latches on to the slow and sinful act.

By the time I force my eyes back up to his, my mouth is parted, and my lungs are deprived of oxygen.

“I hate to cut into this beautiful moment, but Sibby is taking her clothes off.”

Daya’s voice snaps me out of whatever trance Zade has pulled me into, and almost violently, my head whips towards Sibby.

Sure as shit, she’s in the process of slipping off her neon green tights.

“Sibby!” I shout exasperatedly. “Stop taking your clothes off, we are not having a fucking orgy!”

Chapter 28

The Hunter

I pinch the bridge of my nose and wonder how much Tylenol it’s going to take to kill a Sibby-induced headache.

She’s currently in a fucking argument.

With her goddamn self.

“Mortis, I told you, the police are looking for me everywhere. We can’t go outside for a walk, or to get some alone time—we’re trapped!”

She quietens, listening to whatever her imaginary boyfriend is telling her.

A disgruntled sound leaves her throat. “I miss those things, too, but this is the way things have to be. Timmy—stop trying to take my clothes off in front of Zade!”

“If you do that, I will literally lose my shit,” I snap, shooting her a murderous look. I’m already two seconds away from losing it anyway. Her eyes snap to mine, wide with innocence.

“It’s not my fault!” she screeches. She points her finger to a random spot, assumingly where she thinks the culprit is. “It’s his.”

Groaning, I rub my hands over my face roughly. The whole argument started because Sibby wanted to be the one to plant the USB drives in Jimmy Lynch’s office. I simply reminded her she couldn’t be seen, and the conversation took off in a different direction.

Apparently, her henchmen wanted to go to some fucking sex shop a few blocks from Jimmy’s office. I said no, and here we are.

Seeing her in her element, fully believing that her henchmen are real despite people telling her they’re not, it’s as fascinating as it is sad.

I know her childhood was horrific—so much so that she created people to keep her company and get her through something incredibly difficult. A young girl that’s known nothing outside of a diabolical cult, wandering a strange city aimlessly, all alone.

Her brain was protecting itself, and the henchmen were born.

“It’s cold outside today. We can bundle you up in winter clothing, and no one should notice you,” I reason with her. “But you cannot go anywhere else. No detours. No pit stops. Nothing. Not unless you want to end up in the psych ward again.”

She looks off in the distance. “You hear that, Mortis? So, don’t try to convince me to be bad. I’ll get locked up again, and you’ll never see me for the rest of your life.”

He must agree with her because she turns to me, a satisfied smile on her face. “We’re all in agreement. Don’t worry about me, Zade. You can trust me.”


Tags: H.D. Carlton Dark