Shadowface

Chapter 23

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

MIKAEL

P retty girl.

My pretty girl…

My body jolts, and right as I come to my full senses, I pull out before I unload all over her. The release would be absolute bliss after being in darkness for so long, but I want to savor this.

My skin is my own again. Every nerve tingles; every movement, motion, and emotion is mine and mine alone. For the moment, at least, I’ve snuffed him out. He may be stronger when he’s in his element with his books, and his fancy words, and his theories. But with Summer, he will never be stronger than me.

Summer is mine.

She trembles beneath me, and my dick is immediately hard again. I continue to fuck her on his lavish desk, wanting to soil every square inch of it. My dick slides in and out, and this sensation is the only thing that kept me sane during my muted existence.

If possible, it’s better than it was two years ago; her pussy is tight, like she’s been waiting for me.

The only reason I’ve been able to keep my rage in check is because of how euphoric she is. It’s prevented me from reaching for the pair of scissors, conveniently resting just three inches away from my fingertips, and using them to carve up the beautiful face I hate so fucking much.

“Lincol—”

I shove my fingers into her mouth before she can finish saying his name. “Shut the fuck up, pretty girl.”

She gags on them, and I slide them down over her lips and her cheeks flush as arousal blossoms all over her. I keep my hand on her mouth while fucking her—with me in control this time. I hate how open she is to inviting another man inside her world. Even if, technically, that other man is me.

I tear these awful glasses off so I can see her. I want to watch her pussy clench around my cock.

Her sweat is glistening on her neck, so I lap it up and kiss her neck, her cheek, and then take her lips into my mouth. She’s smart enough to only give out squeaky noises when my dick hits her in the right spot.

“That’s right, pretty girl,” I murmur and bury my head in her neck. I can’t breathe. Everything about her is intoxicating. “I want you to close your eyes and play dead.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, then relaxes her body and I continue fucking her slowly, methodically, enjoying every second of her soft body and girly scent beneath me. Knowing I own her, even if she’s calling out Lincoln’s name.

I lift my lips off hers and gaze down at her and her face contorts. “Lincoln isn’t home right now,” I whisper, clarifying things for her. “You can call me Mikael.”

Her eyes widen and pure fear radiates out of them. I deepen my kiss before she can scream and move my hand to her throat, curling each finger and appreciating how delicate her neck is. I will make sure she will never forget my scent or the taste of my lips on hers.

I pull up because I want to watch her pretty eyes as life slowly fades from them. Maybe if she’s a good girl, I will make her bleed first.

Her lips part, and she lets out a soft breath. I squeeze her throat, and her body relaxes as if waiting for me to fulfil my honeyed promises. I shove my cock in her and her pussy tightens and throbs, so I squeeze her throat again. Her thighs nearly take my cock off.

There’s a knock on the door. “Lincoln, are you here? You have a meeting with Dr. Garcia right now. It’s four PM,” his receptionist calls out from the other side of the door, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to slaughter her for interrupting this moment.

My head snaps up, and I release Summer from my death grip. I half expect his familiar essence to flood back into my mind—the rational part of my brain.

I glance at the clock on the wall. “Tell her I’ll be in her office in five minutes.”

Talia Garcia. My favorite fucking doctor. She can wait until I fucking finish.

“Um…she’s already here, Mr. Kennedy.”

A tightness fills my core, knowing I’ll be sexually frustrated for the rest of the afternoon, if not for the rest of my life. Dr. Garcia, from what I recall, does not like when people are late. But she used to bring me pretty things and let me tear them apart, so I’ll forgive her.

I stare down at Summer, who is observing me. Her face has a pretty flush. I kiss the top of her head. “Get dressed,” I demand.

The door handle jiggles, followed by a stern knock. “Lincoln, I have a meeting with the dean in twenty minutes. You better have a good reason for locking this door.”

The doorknob begins to turn. Talia has a key—of course, she has a key. She is the key to all of this.

I jump off the desk and away from Summer. She walks in and her eyes drift to Summer, who has positioned herself in the chair as I lean casually beside her as if we are merely conversing.

Dr. Garcia walks in wearing a fitted red suit and tilts her head at Summer, then darts her gaze between us as recognition settles in.

As Summer rises, her eyes twinkle as she walks past me. “Thank you, Lincoln,” she says. “I appreciate the feedback on my essay.” The lies spewing out of her are natural. I always knew my pretty girl was a liar.

She smiles sweetly at Talia, who smiles sweetly back, although she seems to linger on the flush of Summer’s cheeks.

Summer reaches to shake her hand, oblivious to the marks on her neck. “Nice to formally meet you, Dr. Garcia. I’ve heard lots about you growing up. I’ve really been enjoying your class.”

Talia’s eyes flare. Her eyes are locked on Summer’s vibrant white hair, memories of days gone by flash through her vibrant Italian eyes. “Ah, Summer Landry. I was wondering when I’d have the pleasure of meeting you.” Dr. Garcia holds her hand longer than is socially acceptable. Her mind is in overdrive, staring at the daughter of her most prized possession and the granddaughter of her former lovers. “I’m very sorry about your father.”

Summer pulls her hand away as if Dr. Garcia’s skin is burning. “I apologize, but I do have to run.” She turns to meet my stare, and in response, I give her a cocky smile while her eyes devour me.

With my arms crossed, I am still adjusting to this magnificent body Lincoln has taken care of for me. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Summer. Don’t run from me next time I see you.”

She moistens her lips slightly and returns the smile. “See you soon, Lincoln,” she echoes as she walks out the door.

She doesn’t flee; she walks with a confident strut.

Talia’s gaze follows Summer as she disappears behind the shadows of the hallway, and her face turns white like she’s seen a ghost. In many ways, she has.

Talia raises her eyebrows at me. Her dark eye makeup accentuates her eyelids, and her hair is tied back. It remains a glossy black, except for the single gray streak at the front.

“It’s not what you think,” I state before she can start lecturing me. She used to lecture me all the time, and I hated it.

It’s exactly what it looks like, and Lincoln is slowly regaining consciousness. I have little time before he takes back control.

“My goodness,” she says, keeping her gaze on the dark hallway beyond. “That girl is a spitting image of her grandmother. Her beauty is just—” She pauses, her eyes reflective on what once was, focusing on the woman who single-handedly turned this town into darkness.

Summer’s grandmother, the one who spawned the Shadowface we know and love.

Talia’s attention is now wholly directed at me. “That must make you happy. She’s very pretty. Our dark one loves the pretty ones. He will favor you.”

My throat tightens, and her attention moves to the vein throbbing in my neck. Her head twitches. “Lincoln, be cautious around her. Avoid raising suspicion before the ceremony. I’ve worked tirelessly to keep our group undisclosed. You grasp the significance of what you’re involved in and your role in it. Everything will soon be yours, but be patient.”

One fluid motion and I could kill her. Snapping her delicate neck would rid me of one less person to worry about. Going on a rampage seems much simpler than hiding in my own skin.

I opt for silence, fearing that if I speak, I won’t be able to control myself.

A creeping dread settles upon Dr. Garcia as she stares into the eyes of the monster—the one she believed to be gone forever. Her deep brown eyes, eyes that used to reduce men to their knees, now gaze at me with a hint of piteousness.

Recognition finally settles in. “Mikael…” she gasps, “is that really you?”

I cross my arms, a twisted smile forming on my face. “Hello, doctor.”

I’m her patient. A delicate, dark, and disturbed patient, and also her adopted son. A son she gave up on and failed at fixing.

The clarity is palatable.

Her eyes betray a hint of terror, her frail hand trembling as her eyes dilate like they do before death. The silky blackness is so serene, it makes me envious. She darts her gaze to the door and the voices echoing from beyond.

“Mikael,” she breathes. “One step closer, and I’ll make sure everyone in this office knows what you’re about to do. You will spend the rest of your miserable life in the asylum. I’ll put you back in that white room.”

I lower my gaze, raise my arms to the back of my head, staying perfectly still and comfortable in my chair.

She knows my style. I watch, I wait, then I pounce before they can blink.

“You have no idea what my plans are, doctor,” I say sardonically.

She barks out a laugh. “I can guess, boy.” Any fear has now melted away, leaving her cold and cruel exterior. “Do you remember how scared you used to be of that white room as a child?”

She always threatened me with a white room. That I would live a colorless existence if I behaved badly in public. I ended up there, anyway.

I started to equate white with evil…and when I first saw Summer and her white hair, I was fixated on it. That is one of the reasons I will, one day soon, kill her. It’s also the same reason I am obsessed with her.

Dr. Garcia takes a careful seat in front of me, inches away from where Summer and I just fucked.

She pulls out her notebook. “The last time we spoke, you threatened to tear my eyes out,” she says matter-of-factually. “Do you still wish to do that?”

I snicker as that memory vividly plays out in my mind. I had said that to her after I killed my last victim. If it weren’t for Lincoln, she’d be dead. In fact, if it weren’t for Lincoln, many people would be dead.

I rise from my chair and step around her, clicking the door shut and locking it before moving to the edge of the desk and leaning back next to her. “Yes, doctor,” I say with arched brows, “I would very much still like to cut your eyes out.”

When she first discovered Lincoln, she used her power and manipulation to draw him out. When she discovered his level of brilliance, she fell in love with him. She decided I didn’t matter anymore.

She steps toward me, the familiar scent of her designer perfume wafting in my face. She must have put it on the spot between her collarbone and neck before she arrived.

I stand still as a statue as she rises on her tippy toes and runs her fingers along my cheekbone. “Mikael…” she whispers in awe. “I can’t believe it’s really you. It’s simply remarkable; I thought you were gone for good.”

She lies. I can taste her fear, see it shining through her devious eyes. Heat rolls through my entire body as I imagine finishing her like I promised myself I would.

My eyes drift to those scissors on Lincoln’s desk. The perfect tool to carve out an iris.

I lean my hands back on the desk. “Don’t worry, Doctor Garcia, I’ve never really left.”

She takes a careful step back but rakes her gaze over my body. She watches me stoically, like a guardian of the Order should.

“It was you who marked Summer, wasn’t it?” she asks. “It was you at the ceremony, not Lincoln.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “I had every right to be there. She was my mother, not his. He has nothing to do with the Order. It’s my birthright, and it’s what she died for.”

She waves her hand and lets out a deep breath. “That may be so, but you can’t stay in control, Mikael. We’ve been through this; you can’t control yourself. You will kill again, and you will continue killing until the day you die. That missing girl… You took her, didn’t you?”

I curl my lip at her. “You don’t know anything about me, Doctor Garcia.”

She shakes her head. “You’re angsty and anxious. You only call me Doctor Garcia when you’re upset.”

“I’m sorry, Talia. Is that better? Or does Mom work for you?”

She flicks a piece of dust off her red suit jacket, completely composed now that she believes I won’t kill her with so many witnesses just outside the door.

She takes a deep breath. “No child should witness what you saw. You were not supposed to see that. Your mother was chosen for a greater purpose. Her soul is at rest; she’s with Him. You need to put yourself to peace.”

A snarl rips from my lips, and she jolts back. “I didn’t come back to talk about my mother.”

Her eyes narrow. “So why did you come back? Why are you here, Mikael?”

I gently touch my lips. Her flavor lingers. My skin tingles from the brief moment when I was in control, when I regained ownership of my body. “I want Summer. She’s mine, and she is the one I want to kill.”

I can’t lie. She is the only reason I haven’t completely let go of myself.

Revenge, love, hate, obsession.

I don’t know which one is which anymore. My reality is defined by her. No one else in this world matters the way she does.

Talia blinks and stares blankly at me for a few seconds. She is ignorant of what we did. The late-night visits, Lincoln’s years of manipulating her mind, and my obsession with her are all unknown to her. She doesn’t know her star student, her son, at all.

“Then you shall have her,” she says. “But only when the time is right. But under no circumstances are you to kill her yet. Do you understand? This campus cannot deal with another Shadowface. I won’t let you be like Kevin. I’ll tear your soul apart before I let you destroy what I’ve protected since I was a girl. And you won’t like the new methods I’ve been using to control my patients.”

My jaw ticks and I smile, looking down at that paper. “It’s too late, Talia. I already am Him. You made me Him when you sent me those pretty girls.”

She’s responsible for this. I was compelled by her. She tempted me with bait, testing my resolve. I have no idea where she got them from. All blonde and all pretty. All of them looked like my mother. She created the circumstances and placed them in a maze with a mouse only hunting for bait.

I was so young, so I barely remember the specifics. Just that it satisfied a need.

I tried not to do it. Each time I saw them tied up on my bed, I curled up as far away from them as I could. A few moments into it, she played music, and I blacked out. When I came to, Dr. Garcia was writing on a clipboard, a smile tugging on her lips like I was her little pet. They were dead—more than dead, actually; they looked like grated cheese.

Then she made me clean up the mess.

I was thirteen the first time I killed.

She walks up to me and presses her lips against my forehead. “Do not think I won’t make the call to put you away. I love you, Mikael, like you’re my son, but this is for the best.”

She reaches into her bag, grabs a piece of paper and writes something on it, then slides it on the desk. “Tell Lincoln, if he can hear me, to take this medicine. Bring him back and put yourself back in your cage. He has a thesis to defend soon.”

She sighs as my fingers curl around the paper. Her eyes flit up to meet mine. “You created Lincoln for a reason. He is on the cusp of greatness, and the world is a better place with him in it. All you will do is create chaos; you will get him thrown into an asylum. You’re not well, Mikael. You do not know how to function properly in society.”

I marvel at her. The hypocrisy of everything she is and stands for. The hypocrisy of the world in which we live…the world I’ll never understand.

I draw my eyebrows in. “I thought you liked chaos, Talia Garcia . Guardian of the Order.”

She runs her hand over my hair line like she used to do to calm me down as a boy.

Her patient.

The same way my mother used to as well. “Enlightenment is found in the perpetual dance of order and disorder, control and liberation. You need to be controlled, Mikael. The world isn’t ready for you.”

I’m not sure when it happened, but the scissors are now in my hand and pressed into her neck. I play with the blade and meet her gaze. “You were supposed to make me better,” I say as a dullness hits my vision. “You didn’t make me better, doctor.”

Instead, she relentlessly pounded blind hatred into every contour of my mind. Etched her scripture into my skull every day, as if she was chiseling her dark emblem into my soul.

Hate. Kill. Blood. Murder .

I was a child when she was assigned to me. Orphaned, alone, and traumatized, and now she wants to box me in?

She was aware of my identity. She was there when it happened. She’s the one who found me and made sure she was assigned to my case.

Her hands are soft as she reaches up and cups my face. Although they always were soft, like a mother’s touch. And I suppose she is the closest thing to a mother I have. But I’m not the shining light in her world.

Lincoln is, and will always be, her favorite.

“Take a look around. See the life he made for you. Just relax, observe, and enjoy it. It’s all yours, too. Experience what he does without interference. Fuck that girl to oblivion for all I care. Having a second chance like this is a gift. You’re truly fortunate.”

I slam my fist into the desk as she turns away and heads to the door. “He doesn’t even feel,” I spit at her, and she pauses. “He’s not real, you stupid bitch. He’s a shell I created.”

She only half turns her head. “For your own good, keep your distance from the girl until the ceremony. She belongs to Him, not some half-formed orphan.”

I release a growl.

She lifts her chin to the sky. “You will deliver her body the night of the ceremony, and that will be the end of it. Do not mess with me, Mikael.” She disappears into the same darkness as Summer, clicking her heels as she goes into the ivory tower she hides behind.

I swallow bile down my throat. Every ounce of me wants to follow her, tie her up, eat her up, and spit her out. I close my eyes as Lincoln’s voice brings me back to my sanity, and I let go of my shields, preventing him from coming in.

It starts with a subtle ringing in my ear. I don’t fight him. I let go of the constant tug of war and the psychotic withering he’s used to.

I’m strong. He knows I’m strong.

So the question is, what the fuck is he going to do about it?

“We have to talk, Mikael,” he says in my mind’s eye.

I stare at my reflection in the window, at Lincoln staring back at me. I grab my glasses and slide them back on my face as my vision blurs and his vision grows clear.

“About what?” I smile, knowing why he’s pissed. I took the best moment from him, right as he was about to come.

“About Summer.”

I shoot an emotion straight into his spine as I dissipate into the abyss. Let him feel what I feel for once—the worst emotion in the human consciousness.

Jealousy.