28. Nico
28
NICO
MURDER MAKES THE HEART GROW FONDER…
I ’m up and ready to pounce the second someone knocks on the door of my house. Marie rouses and sits up, looking at me with sleep-addled eyes and I place a finger to my mouth so she stays silent.
When I open the door, Andrea’s on the other side of the threshold. “We have him.”
He glances behind me and frowns. I follow his gaze to find Marie wrapped in a blanket, standing a few feet away. I know she hates being kept in the dark, I should have known she’d follow. It doesn’t matter, I want her to be sure about me before my obsession for her prevents me from letting her go when she’ll finally realise I’m a killer and unworthy of her. Every day with her and Ember here brings me closer to the point of no return already. It’s been a week since that night at Absolution, and six weeks since I first started to sleep in her bed. I don’t see myself being able to sleep as soundly if she left.
“Get Ember, luna mia . Give her to Andrea, then get dressed. We have somewhere to be,” I tell her and she disappears without a word in the bedroom that’s now ours.
“Want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing?” Andrea whispers when she’s gone, a tinge of disappointment and concern behind his words.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking Marie to the workshop with me, and you, fratello , are going to play house with your niece.”
“She’s not my niece,” he quips and I growl, getting into his face.
“You better reframe that mindset, Andrea, because as far as I’m concerned Marie and Ember are mine.” The usage of his name does the trick, his eyes widening before he tampers it down. He’s incapable of not clenching his jaw hard though and I know he wants to grill me, but I said all I needed to.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring Marie to see your target tonight.”
“Don’t underestimate her,” I say before I feel her presence behind me. I turn to face her. My next words are not for him. “She’s stronger than anyone knows.”
I thought I would feel anxious or excited about bringing Marie here, but there’s nothing but peaceful calm settling in my mind as I open the heavy door of my workshop and we step in.
Andrea and I are very careful with disclosing where we live so I already know that he picked up my guest at Dobrev’s and drove him here. I’m unsure about the state of him and that brings a cold sweat at the base of my nape. I don’t like surprises. I would usually do the picking but Dobrev and Andrea are closer so I guess he called him instead of me. Which is fine, I don’t need a new friend. Bringing two new people into my circle of trust is new enough.
Marie’s fingers tense against my own and I turn to face her before we enter my territory.
“I’m not about to throw you into it, Marie. There are multiple rooms inside this barn so first, I’ll show you the room I sometimes use as an office. If, and only if, you are ready, we’ll go meet my guest. You are in control, okay?”
She nods and swallows thickly, anxiety written all over her body and gentle face.
“It’s okay to back down now, luna mia . No one will mock you or comment on it if you decide that getting closer to your family’s business is too much for you,” I tell her. There’s no pressure to perform here. I will be the knife and if she wants to be the hand dolling out our punishment, I’ll gladly follow but it’s all up to her.
Yet, a flash of fire glints in her eyes, the challenge I didn’t realise I voiced having her stand taller. “I’m ready.”
We get to my office and I show her the feed of the cameras set up in the work room. Like I thought he would, Eli Kent stands in the middle of the room, suspended by chains pulling his arms above his head. Just how I like to start. My lips pull into a smile at Andrea’s clear display of affection. I don’t know how brothers are acting in other parts of the world and fringes of society but to me, to us, this is what brotherly love looks like.
I take a step back and let Marie take it all in. She doesn’t say a word but her lips part slightly, and she takes a step forward towards the cameras. “What did he do?”
“Remember when we had that talk at Andrea and Giulia’s family dinner a few weeks ago? That’s him. You don’t need to know his name, I don’t want it to sully your tongue. He supplies Misha Petrov with easy targets for his skin trade,” I say on a hiss.
Retelling his story makes my skin crawl and my vision tint red. The need for violence threatens to pull me under and I tap my right leg with my right index three times.
Marie doesn’t stop me. Instead, like I’m not a monster about to take a life, she caresses my cheek. “Let’s go, sweet boy. Someone needs to meet their maker, and you’re the executioner.” Her voice is pure sin and I let out a low groan.
I’ve never been aroused by my own violence. Only by how it feels on my skin when I get it. But she makes me want to make her proud.
We leave the office and walk the short distance to the work room. The sliding door glides silently but our movements draw Eli’s attention. His beady eyes follow Marie with a leering gaze and the asshole has the audacity to lick his lips. For that alone, I’ll make him suffer.
As always, I start the process the same way. By removing my clothes and putting on the painter suit and mask that will protect my skin from a stranger’s fluid.
“What’s all this for?” Marie asks.
“I don’t want blood on my skin. It makes me violently ill.”
She frowns and tilts her head, not reconciliating how hard I got when she made me bleed. “You’re the only one who can have me begging to bleed for you, Miss Marie,” I whisper in her ear, satisfaction swimming through my veins like whiskey when she shudders.
“Do I need to dress like that, too?” she asks.
“I would prefer it, yes. I also don’t want you to be sullied by someone else’s fluids on you, especially blood. It sticks everywhere.”
She nods solemnly before removing her dark jeans and knitted black sweater, leaving her in nothing but a lace bra and panties that barely cover the curves of her ass. I’m salivating, clenching my fists with the need to kneel at her feet.
Eli decides it’s the perfect moment to let out a low whistle. “You got me my last meal, Death? I don’t mind dying if I get to sink my cock into the pretty whore. Bet she’ll scream so good for me.”
I stalk to him, grabbing one of my knives from where it rests on the metal table, and seize his jaw. The sharp blade cuts through the thin flesh of his cheek as I carve from his mouth to his left ear. Blood oozes from the wound, pooling along my gloved hands and painter suit, the rivulets creating a mesmerising crimson river on the white fabric. I do the same to his other cheek while he thrashes against my hold, tears mixing with the blood. It’s useless but his instincts are driving him to fight.
Good.
I want him to fight every minute I’m gonna drag this out.
“The only reason you can still see her is because I’ll take my time carving out your fucking eyes so I can keep them for my shelf trophy,” I tell him, unhinged and so fucking close to his face I barely recognised myself.
Of course layers separate us, but it’s very rare that rage drives me so close to my assignments.
My threat lands as desired, fear painting his eyes and staining his pants. The mask doesn’t fully protect me from the acrid smell of urine.
It never occurred to me before this moment that someone could reject me because of what I do. I’m so used to the people I love knowing exactly who I am that considering any other reality where I’m not myself didn’t register. For the first time, I doubt my choice to bring Marie here. My fingers mindlessly tap my legs in the same old rhythm. Apprehension has my stomach roiling and I turn back to face her slowly, preparing myself for the disgust or fear on her face.
She’s fully dressed in the gear I prepared for her. Her voice is muffled though the mask but I hear her loud and clear as she asks if she can join me. My heart is in my ears, beating against my body as though it wants to leap out to join her. The three steps she takes to make her way to me are weighted.
“You’re beautiful when you look like Death,” she says as she lifts a gloved hand and caresses my plastic-covered cheek. The fabric between us doesn’t erase how much I want her.
My sole purpose since she entered my life is to kneel at her feet. So I do.
The corner of her eyes crinkle with satisfaction and I don’t need to see her mouth to know she’s smiling. As I drop my head down, silence fills my ears. It’s like the sound of fresh snow on a winter morning over the field of Scottish bluebells by my house. Untouched and pure.
I barely know why I’m here other than to please the goddess in front of me.
“Be a good boy and do your job, baby. I’ll be watching.”
I stand and turn to Eli whose face is ashen, eyes shot red with fear.
“You’re sick,” he garbles and I decide right then, his tongue needs to go. I spend the next two hours engrossed in my tasks as I strap him to my table and remove his eyes before harvesting his organs and skinning him. Alive.