Chapter 5 #2
“There were sixteen entries before my sister.” I tuck the papers away again. “I came to make sure your claim on her dies with you, but it looks like I’m also performing a community service by removing some trash.”
Danny chokes on his gag, attempting to speak through it.
“Your explanations don’t interest me.” I stand up from the coffee table. “You’re a collector. A hunter. But you picked the wrong prey this time.”
His chest heaves with rapid breaths.
“My sister is sixteen,” I continue, each word enunciated to ensure he understands why this is happening. “She sold her suppressants for school supplies because I couldn’t afford both. And you used that vulnerability to take something from her that can never be given back.”
Danny tries to speak again, the fabric of the gag darkening with saliva as he works his jaw.
“You won’t be using Alpha Command on her again.” I unfold the knife, the blade catching the overhead light. “Or on anyone else.”
Tears leak down his temples.
I lean forward, balanced on the balls of my feet. “This is the first time I’ve dismembered someone. It might take a while.”
A high-pitched whine comes from him, and his eyes widen further, the whites visible all around his irises.
“Should I cut off your fingers first?” I ask, poking the digits with the tip of the knife. “Or take the whole hand in one go?”
The high-pitched keening returns, and it almost covers the scuff of a shoe outside the door.
I scramble to kneel at Danny’s head and grab his hair, yanking his head back and placing the blade at his artery. If I’m caught now, I’ll at least make sure Danny goes down with me.
The door opens a crack, and a man slips inside. As he turns to me, my breath catches in recognition.
It’s the Alpha from the diner. Our eyes meet, and that strange jolt of recognition shocks through me again. Even through the mask and across the room, I catch the clean scent of his pheromones, and my pulse quickens in response.
Then he breaks eye contact to scan the room, taking in Danny bound on the plastic and my knife at his throat. His broad shoulders block the exit as he closes the door behind him and locks it, as I should have done.
A smile curves his lips, predatory and appreciative all at once. “Well, aren’t you precious?”
His gravelly voice slides through the room, and my body responds with a rush of heat that has no place in this moment, no right to exist while my knife is still pressed to Danny’s throat.
“Who are you?” I demand, not moving from my position, keeping the blade steady despite the sudden racing of my pulse. “What are you doing here?”
He leans back against the door, as if we’re having a conversation at a café rather than in the middle of what’s about to become a murder scene.
“My name’s Rowan. As for what I’m doing here…” His eyes travel over me again in a slow drag that ratchets up the fire in my veins. “I’ve been watching you for a while now.”
“So, you’re the one who’s been following me?” I say, kicking myself now for writing it off as exhausted delusions.
Rowan crosses the room with unhurried steps. “You caught my interest. I would have asked to walk you home after work, but you didn’t strike me as someone open to advances.”
He pauses, surveying Danny with clinical disinterest. “I got concerned when you entered this apartment and didn’t come back out. So I decided to check.”
“Why?” The question encompasses everything.
Why follow me?
Why care?
Why not call the police when he saw what was happening?
“Come now, precious. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it, too.” He crouches, bringing himself level with Danny, whose eyes now dart between us, and his nostrils flare as he inhales. “You and I are meant to be.”
My skin prickles with awareness. “You should leave.”
“I could, but then you’d have to handle this all by yourself, and that’s just inefficient.”
A hysterical laugh threatens to escape my throat.
“You might want to adjust your grip,” he continues. “The angle you’ve got will cause arterial spray. Unless you want to be washing blood out of your hair for the next week.”
The casual advice throws me off-balance. “You’re not going to stop me?”
“Why would I?” Rowan’s face turns serious. “You have good reason to kill him, right?”
My hand tightens in Danny’s hair, drawing a whimper from him. “He hurt my baby sister.”
“There you go then.” He points to Danny’s neck. “The better position would be behind him, blade under the jaw, angled upward. Quicker, cleaner.”
The surreal nature of this conversation should disturb me more than it does. Instead, I find myself considering his advice with the same pragmatism I apply to breaking down meat at work.
Rowan watches me. “You’re very calm about this.”
“I’m not calm,” I say. “I’m contained. There’s a difference.”
His lips curve into a small smile of understanding. “Rage on the inside, ice on the outside. You really are too precious to be wasting time on trash like this.”
The rag muffles Danny’s babbles.
Rowan cocks his head at him. “Oh, I’m not suggesting he should let you go. You’re going to die tonight.”
I shift positions, moving behind Danny as Rowan suggested. My hand finds the back of his head, firming my grip on his hair tight enough to stretch the skin of his scalp.
“He hurt sixteen other girls before my sister,” I tell Rowan, unsure why I bother explaining myself to him. “He’s been doing this for years.”
Rowan’s expression hardens. “Then finish it.”
I didn’t ask for permission, and I don’t need it. I had planned to spend more time taking Danny apart, returning even a small measure of the pain he dealt my sister. But Rowan’s encouragement acts as a catalyst, and I suddenly want to be done with Danny. As Rowan said, he’s a waste of my time.
I pull his head back further to expose the underside of his jaw, where the skin is thinner, closer to the essential vessels beneath.
With the same skill I use to break down a chicken carcass, I slide the blade upward in one clean motion, parting skin and tissue with minimal resistance. Blood wells, dark and thick, spilling down his neck instead of spraying outward as it would have with my original angle.
Danny’s body convulses, a reflexive response rather than a conscious struggle. His eyes glaze over as his oxygen supply cuts off, and blood pools on the plastic beneath him.
In less than thirty seconds, he goes still.
I release my grip on his hair, letting his head loll forward.
“Clean,” Rowan comments with approval. “No wasted movement.”
Despite what I just did, my hands remain steady as I wipe the blade on Danny’s chest hair before folding it closed.
With the violence concluded, Rowan moves closer. “What’s your cleanup plan?”
“Acid in the bathtub,” I answer. It wasn’t elegant, but it was all I could source without drawing attention. “Dissolve what I can, dispose of the rest in pieces.”
Rowan shakes his head. “You’d need more acid than you can buy without raising flags, and the chemical stench would attract attention from neighbors.”
“Internet fail. But two out of three is better than I expected.” My brain processes alternatives. “You have a better suggestion?”
“I have someone who can make his body disappear.” Rowan steps around the blood pool, careful not to disturb the plastic. “No questions, no trace.”
Suspicion cuts through my detachment. “At what cost?”
“To you?” His eyes caress me. “Nothing, precious.”
“Everyone wants something,” I counter.
Rowan considers this, his head tilting. “True enough. Let’s say I collect the favor later.”
“I have the right to refuse if it puts my sister at risk,” I counter.
“I wouldn’t dream of harming your sister.” Rowan extends his hand. “Deal?”
I stare at his offered palm before pulling off my bloody glove and placing my hand in his. “Deal.”
His fingers close around mine in a brief shake, but instead of releasing me afterward, he maintains his grip, tugging me away from the body.
“Let’s get out of here, precious, before the adrenaline high hits.” His thumb brushes over my knuckles. “Trust me, you don’t want to be here when it crashes.”
The nickname should irritate me. The presumption of his touch should trigger my defenses. Instead, I find myself grabbing my backpack and following as he leads me toward the door, my hand still held in his.