Chapter Fourteen
Seraphine
“I need to set up a new fuel cache.” Valen stood behind me in the kitchen, caging me against the kitchen counter. His chest pressed into my back, and I melted into him.
It was like he’d unlocked a part of me I never knew existed.
A dirty sexual deviant.
After he’d fucked me senseless in the shed yesterday, we’d spent all night in bed going at it like wild animals.
We took our time, discovering each other’s bodies, touching, tasting.
I learned that he liked it when I begged for him.
And when he wrapped his hand around my throat, I wasn’t frightened.
I was turned on. Feral at the idea of him controlling my breathing.
Breath play, he called it.
I didn’t care what he called it so long as he kept doing it.
Ironic really, considering my scar had been a sign of trauma for me for so long. And now here I was, leading his hand to my throat so he could make me see stars and I could come.
I was having either a major breakthrough in my trauma healing, or a psychological break.
At this point, it was probably both.
“I’m sorry, what?” I tried to focus on what he was saying instead of mentally reliving the last twenty-four hours like a sex-crazed lunatic.
Nothing wrong with that, the devil on my shoulder whispered.
I gasped as Valen bit down on my neck. My body was covered with evidence from our all-night fucking. He loved to mark me: bite marks, red little blotches covering my breasts and the inside of my thighs from where he sucked on my skin.
I loved it.
I was sick in the head.
What else is new?
“If you don’t stop rubbing your sweet little ass against my cock, I’m never going to get this done,” he growled against my ear before spinning me around.
“Who, me?” I feigned innocence, but my smile instantly dropped from my face when he lifted me up and placed me on the edge of the counter. His cock pressed into me, and I bit my bottom lip.
“Focus, Seraphine.” He smirked, weaving his hands through my hair. “I need to set up a backup location for our supplies. You stay here, and when I get back…” His hand found my throat, wrapping gently around it. “I’ll make you scream my name for the rest of the day.”
Heat flooded my cheeks as he squeezed, not enough to cut off all my air, but just enough that my nails dug into his back. I wasn’t the only one who liked being marked. Valen wore my scratches like body armor, loving it when I claimed him the way he claimed me.
“How long will you be gone?” I panted.
“Hour. Maybe two. I need to find a new secure spot and bury the containers.” I missed the heat of him when he stepped back. “Keep the door locked.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine.” I reached over and grabbed the white box with the cherry pie we hadn’t ruined. “If you’re lucky, I’ll save you some pie.”
His eyes darkened, but he shook his head, smirking. “You better.”
After he left, I worked my way around the kitchen. I spent the better half of the hour cleaning like some domesticated goddess, even though I was the farthest thing from it.
Unease settled in my stomach as I rummaged through the freezer for something to make for dinner. The sensation of being watched had me pausing and staring out the window, but nobody was there.
A little while later, I was wiping down the counters when the familiar sound of a snowmobile approached.
He’s back early.
Something about the motor was off though. I held my breath, focusing on the noise. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up at the higher-pitched tone.
Relax, the noise doesn’t mean anything.
I moved toward the kitchen window, expecting to see Valen, and stopped dead in my tracks. A man pulled up and killed the engine. He looked around the property and then jumped off, heading straight for the cabin.
My blood turned to ice. Who the hell was that? It wasn’t Cyrus.
The rational part of my brain told me to relax. Stop overreacting.
Since when did I ever listen to any rational thoughts?
I grabbed the knife from the kitchen counter, backing away from the door as heavy footsteps thudded up the outside stairs. Three knocks pounded on the cabin door.
“Hello? Valen, are you home? I saw the smoke from the chimney.” A man’s voice came from the other side. He sounded young, and slightly excited.
I tried to calm my nerves and take deep breaths. No need to panic. This was probably a friend Valen hadn’t told me about. But something told me to stay silent, so I stood there with the knife and kept my mouth shut.
“I’m not looking for any trouble. I just want to talk. I’m a huge fan.” He banged on the door again.
I realized two things at the same time.
One, if this guy was a fan of Valen’s, he must be one of those slasher fanatics.
And two, I’d forgotten to lock the deadbolt.
You’d think the sole survivor of a serial killer would have better survival instincts. I blamed Valen and his filthy promises of dirty sex for making me forget to lock it.
I tiptoed slowly to the door, one hand gripping the knife, the other reaching for the lock. The door handle rattled, and right when I was only two feet away, it swung open.
A guy in his early twenties stood there, his eyes wild and a creepy grin plastered across his face. “Holy shit. It really is you.”
I raised the knife, pointing it directly at him. “Get out. Now.” I was proud of myself because for once, my first instinct hadn’t been to scream. It was to attack.
“Whoa, relax.” He held his hands up, but instead of backing up, he took a step closer to me. “I’m Michael. You’re Seraphine, right?”
“I said get the fuck out.” I tried to keep my voice controlled, but a part of me was entering panic mode. This guy wasn’t that big, but he was still larger than me. If he tried to grab for me, would I be able to defend myself like Valen had taught? I didn’t really want to find out.
“Did he bring you up here to finish the job?” There was an enthusiasm in his voice that confirmed I was indeed dealing with a sick fuck.
“Nah, that can’t be it, otherwise you’d be chained up somewhere.
I saw you in town and couldn’t believe it.
The two of you together? I knew he had to have something good up his sleeve. ”
Bile rose to the back of my throat. I backed up toward the kitchen, but for every step I took back, he took another forward.
“I’m his number one fan. That’s why I’m here. To help him finish what he couldn’t do the first time. He’s gone soft.” Michael’s eyes narrowed on me, like I was the problem in this equation. “Now he’s, what, playing house with you instead of killing you? Pathetic.”
“You’re fucking insane.” My hand trembled slightly, but I kept the knife pointed at him, ready to strike.
“I’m dedicated.” A darkness flashed in his eyes as he swung his backpack to his front.
Unzipping the large compartment, he dumped out zip ties, rope, and what looked like a plastic tarp.
Then he pulled out a vial and a syringe.
“This is where he fucked up last time. It would have been easier, less fighting. But I’ll do it right. Prove to him I’m a worthy partner.”
I circled around the kitchen counter. My only options were to buy time and hope Valen came back in time, or fight like I’d never fought before.
Michael made the choice for me. He lunged, syringe in one hand, and I sliced at his arm. The scream that came out of him lit a fire in me, and I swung the knife again. But this time I missed, and he knocked the blade from my hand.
“Hold still, you bitch. Don’t ruin this for me.” Blood dripped all over the floor from the cut on his arm. He ran at me, and Valen’s training flashed in my mind. I used Michael’s momentum against him, jumped to the side and let him crash into the counter.
But that only slowed him down, because a second later he steadied himself and came full force at me, murder in his eyes.
When he pounced at me again, I wasn’t fast enough to avoid him.
We crashed to the floor, his weight pinning me down.
He tried to bring the needle to my neck, but I grabbed his wrist with both hands, fighting to keep the syringe away.
“Stop fighting me, you bitch,” he panted, spit flying from his mouth.
“You psychopath!” I screamed in his face as loud as I could. Not out of fear, but out of pure, absolute rage.
I’d told myself so many times that I’d never be a victim again. Not if there was anything I could do about it. And now this psycho fanboy thought he was just going to drug and kill me as some sick tribute to Valen? No, I wouldn’t go out like this.
I stopped resisting and pulled his arm toward me instead. His eyes widened as he lost balance and pitched forward, and I twisted sharply to the side. The syringe clattered to the floor, and I grabbed it and stabbed it into his thigh.
He screamed with rage. His arm flew out and he grabbed me by the hair. “You stupid…” But his words slurred as whatever drug he’d been planning to use on me took effect on him instead. His grip on my hair loosened, and I scrambled to my feet.
My breath came out in sharp bursts as I stood over him. He lay there knocked out, and because I couldn’t help it, I kicked him in his side. “How’s that feel, asshole?”
The front door exploded inward, and Valen burst through the door like the Devil himself. His eyes were wild as he took in the scene. Me towering over some stranger, a syringe in his leg, blood on the floor.
“Seraphine!” The panic in Valen’s voice had tears stinging at my eyes. He raced toward me, gathering me into his arms. “Are you hurt?” He searched me, spinning me around, looking for the source of the blood.
“I’m OK. It’s his blood.” I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his winter coat. Now that Valen was here and the adrenaline was slowing down, a sob escaped me.
“Shh, it’s OK, little lamb.” His hands were warm on my back as he gripped me to him. “You’re safe.”
After I stopped crying, Valen tilted my chin up, searching my face. “What happened?”