Shadowface

Chapter 31

CHAPTER

THIRTY-ONE

SUMMER

A buzzing sound wakes me up as I shoot my eyes open. I’m warm, my headache is gone from the water Lincoln—or whoever the hell that was—got me after we fucked again. Then I must have fallen back asleep, but I’m unsure for how long.

Lincoln works at his desk a few feet away from me, his glasses on, his forehead scrunched together, eating popcorn. The fire an image beside him and soft piano music playing above.

Psycho music.

My stomach grumbles from that salty, buttery smell as I come back into myself, but at least my headache is gone.

It’s like this man doesn’t sleep; he just reads psychology all day, every day. Then he uses it to control my mind.

My phone buzzes again.

“It’s been buzzing for an hour,” Lincoln says without looking up. “Maybe let Dani know you’re still breathing. I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

I shoot my head up and see my phone on the nightstand. Where did it even come from? He must have given it back while I was asleep.

Dani! Oh shit. I ignored her call last night, and that was almost a full twenty-four hours ago. Twenty-four hours of fucking Lincoln, talking to him, snuggling him, and getting to unravel the different layers of his mind.

She is not going to forgive me for that.

My fingers brush against the soft, yielding pillows as I reach for my phone, acutely aware of my nakedness.

I have two missed calls, one from my mom, and a bunch of text messages from Dani. I quickly shoot her a text, letting her know I’m fine and that I won’t be home tonight.

I saw she had read it, and the three dots on the text thread went wild for a few seconds, disappearing and reappearing. After that, she sends me a link to a news story with a long message attached.

Dani: The missing girl was discovered walking alone in the woods. She’s traumatized and too shocked to speak. Call me NOW.

The image of Cali cracks my heart open wide. Her face is white as a ghost, but otherwise, her eyes are intact. She’s dirty and skinny, but alive.

Did he release her while I was asleep?

I shift my eyes to Lincoln, who seems composed and relaxed. He’s wearing nothing but boxers, leaning back with his hair mussed, running his hands through it as if deep in thought. Memories of this afternoon race through my mind, highlighting the contrast in sex between last night and earlier today. And my interaction with Mikael, which was even more confusing. Like I was fucking a completely different person.

I’m fine. I’m fine… Lincoln’s my protector.

“Is this your plan for me, then?” I lean back, resting my head on the headboard, and pull the blanket up to cover my stomach. “I’m in your bed, waiting for you to use and fuck whenever you need a break from your research?” I say jokingly.

I roll out of the bed and shuffle over to Lincoln’s desk, my footsteps light and airy. Without looking up, he opens his arm as if anticipating me, and I slide onto his warm lap and try not to stare at him curiously.

But he’s so curious…

“That’s not the worst existence in the world, is it?” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. His arms curl around me as if protecting me. His body is warm, and his fingers tickle my sides, but he remains focused on the screen in front of him. A notebook is beside him, filled with various musings and scribbles.

He’s distracted.

I attempt to act as if everything is normal. Like there wasn’t a third alter that came out to play—one that embodies a perfect combination of the two of them. I pretend that I am not under their control, trapped like a prisoner or a plaything.

I pop a piece of popcorn into my mouth. “So, what are we going to do about Cali?” I ask him, curious about what he will say about it.

He removes his glasses and cleans them before putting them back on and turning to me. “I got rid of her earlier while you were napping.”

I shift on his lap. “What? How? I thought you were worried about her telling everyone it was you?”

He runs his hand through his hair. “I had some help, and we don’t have to worry about her talking.”

I don’t have the nerve to ask what he means by that. “What…what did you do to her?”

He squeezes my side. “She’ll live, and she’s not down here anymore, listening to us. I thought that would make you happy.”

It makes me happier than I ever want to admit.

I swallow hard. “How…how can you be sure she won’t report you?”

He blinks twice and stares at me and, truly, I don’t see anything resembling emotion. Nothing resembling humanity. “She has her heartbeat, Summer. She will move on with her life, as best she can despite being mute. She will never be able to speak again. It was the lesser of two evils.”

I huff out a breath. “Lincoln…what did you do?”

“I muted her. That’s all you need to know.”

I give him an incredulous look.

He presses his glasses up his nose and rubs his chin as if this conversation is bothersome. “I’m not the one who took her. Mikael did. I did what I could to fix this.”

He didn’t do this…

He’s a protector.

“How do you mute someone?”

He shrugs and gives me another squeeze. “Trauma-induced mutism. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but it seemed to. We scared the girl so shitless, I doubt she will ever be able to form another sentence.”

I keep my gaze steady on him, waiting to see any sign of Mikael or the mystery shimmer. “What makes you certain she’ll never speak again? And when you say we, what do you mean exactly? Who else is in there with you?” Mikael or that terrifying, godlike creature that ravished me for hours. Not that Mikael alone isn’t terrifying enough.

What does one have to do to mute someone? Not silence them, not make them promise they won’t say anything, but full out mute them…altering their brain chemistry into silence.

Lincoln’s eyes are fixed on me, and a faint, chilling glimmer shines through them.

It’s blinding.

I startle back. I’m not ready for that side of Lincoln to come out again. I’ve had enough of him today.

“As I’ve told you, the only alters present are me and Mikael. No one else is in here,” he says as he pops more popcorn into his mouth and my stomach grumbles again.

“Okay…” I cut him off and grab his knee before the god emerges. I frown as I glance at his computer, and all the notes strewed on his desk.

Trying to keep Lincoln fronting and distracted, I ask, “What are you doing your thesis on?”

“Oddly enough, the same thing you should be studying right now.” He opens the desk drawer and places the large textbook on the desk in front of us.

He watches me as I run my fingers over my father’s name.

Dr. K. Landry.

Followed by not so big letters.

Dr. T. Garcia.

That sickening sensation tugs at my gut seeing their names together. As if the two of them caused this, as if the two of them created Lincoln—or destroyed Mikael, depending on how you want to look at it. As if they created what force of nature I had sex with all day.

I rise from Lincoln’s warmth and stumble back to bed, and my stomach drops. Jesus.

“Shit,” I mutter. “I completely forgot to submit my psychology weekly assignment.”

“I’m not giving you an extension,” he says and goes back to clicking away on his computer, but the smirk on his face is so adorable.

He seems to love my misery in my inability to pass this class.

“I didn’t ask for one,” I respond curtly and position the heavy textbook on my lap. “I guess I’ll just fail.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes and eventually, I curl up while he works and I read. My father was known throughout the field, a sought-after practitioner who worked for the federal government and focused exclusively on the most extreme cases. His theories, I now realize, were based on unethical test subjects.

I am an unethical test subject.

My eyes flutter to Lincoln, curiosity burning in me. “You’re building off one of his theories for your thesis. You’re not only protecting me, you’re also using me.”

He doesn’t respond. Almost like the robot he is, he keeps his composure. “Don’t lie to me right now, Lincoln.”

He takes a deep breath. “I’m not capable of lying—I’m not built that way. Lying serves me no purpose.”

“Well then, tell me the truth. I want to know everything. Who the Order of the Shadows really are, and what you want from me.”

He turns to face me. “You can’t use a willing participant. And you, baby girl, are a willing participant , aren’t you? All this time, and you’ve not run from me once.”

He’s not wrong.

“What is it? What is it about me that’s so enticing?”

His eyes flash. “You understand exactly what is so enticing about you. You’re not stupid.”

My heart tightens, like a curling black smoke wraps around it and seeps into every vein in my body. I think of my younger self, waiting for him. Is this why I’m not afraid of him, despite what logic dictates?

He shuts his computer and walks to his dresser. “At first, I was curious if you were like your father, but then you started showing signs of her, and that got me thinking…”

I look up at Lincoln, waiting for him to finish his sentence, and startle as he’s suddenly a few feet closer. He’s holding his glasses in his hand. I stare into his eyes and he blinks a few times.

And then I realize it’s not Lincoln. His eyes are lighter and he’s grinning in a way Lincoln doesn’t.

“Mikael,” I whisper, almost relieved to see him. With really beautiful eyes and lashes that make my skin melt.

“Hi, pretty girl.”

His entire demeanor shifts, and it’s clear Lincoln is gone.

He walks toward me and my breath hitches. My pussy is so raw, and I can still taste his cum. Mikael is ravished—he can’t seem to get enough of me, whether he’s fronting or not.

He pushes me down on the bed. “You were so easy, Summer. So pure and perfect, and so willing to open your legs for me. I knew you were like her from the second I saw you.”

“Who?” I whisper.

But I know who. The picture on the wall upstairs…

Shadowface 1979.

He studies me, his face a mocking grin. He bites his lip as if enjoying the inner struggle within me. “Your grandmother laid waste to a lot of people, baby.”

I clench my fists. “No. You’re wrong. My father, I can see that, but my grandmother was gentle. She wasn’t capable of it.”

He slides a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Your grandmother was evil and psychotic,” he says softly. “She enjoyed it, because her mind was poisoned. Just like yours is.”

My inner rage flares inside me.

“You’re lying. You’re lying because you’re sad and broken and you want company.”

Pausing for a second, he abruptly presses on top of me. His hot body, every line of his muscles tense.

My legs betray me as I wrap them around him, playing with him. Playing with the devil. I stare at him for a moment and breathe.

“You’ve calmed down since the last time I saw you,” I say. His entire tone is calmer. His anger and pain aren’t controlling him and, for once, he just seems normal again.

He shrugs and stares at my bare thigh in his shirt. “Sex will do that.”

I huff. “I didn’t have sex with you .”

He laughs so darkly and runs his hands through his hair. He looks so different without his glasses, like an entirely different person. “I can repeat exactly what we did all day if that’s what it takes for you to believe me, pretty girl.”

I freeze as he leans in closer, and I think about all the things he did to me today and how long he fucked my mouth. My throat is raw because of it. He also went down on me after, and that was the best orgasm he’s ever given me.

His hand finds my mark, and he gently brushes his thumb across it, serving as a constant reminder I’m not safe with him. My hand instinctively searches for his, causing my heart to flutter as our fingers connect.

His gaze draws down to our hands. “I not only want to destroy you, but I want to own you.”

“Lincoln wants to protect me,” I counter, “from you.”

A small twinge of his lip. “Lincoln’s not real, pretty girl. I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out yet.”

A flood of emotion overtakes me and my hands ball into fists. “He is real. He’s complex, brilliant, and kind, and he’s mine . I like him better than you.”

Mikael makes me feel tortured.

Mikael’s calm demeanor is replaced by that rush of anger I’m used to with him. “ He’s emotionless …” he roars. “He’s a robot, because I made him that way. I gave him everything : this nice big house, this life he created while living in my body . There was no fucking way I’m letting him have my heart as well. You’re in love with the Tin Man. The person you are in love with is me .”

“Well, the Tin Man was better than the Scarecrow,” I quip.

I hold my breath, and a chill on my skin causes a small squeak to escape me. I tremble as his lips delicately trace the contours of my wound, his fingers gripping a razor blade he now holds against my skin.

He starts to apply pressure, causing me to bleed. Not enough that it hurts, but enough to know he’s in control.

“You need him,” I beg. “You can’t survive without him, Mikael.”

His lips curl, and I wince, thinking he’s going to hurt me. Instead, he kisses the drop of blood and runs circles over it with his tongue, making the sting go away.

I gasp, then he moves his tongue to the fabric of my panties and runs his tongue over my clit. I peer down at him and his eyes are dark. His pupils are nearly black as he trails kisses up my belly and finally meets my waiting lips.

I kiss him. I shouldn’t, but I do. His lips are soft, warm and sensual, and exactly what I remember him being like. My nameless monster who used to kiss me in my sleep.

He looks up at me with soft eyes. “I’m real, Summer Landry. And I love you so fucking much, pretty girl. You’re the one I can’t survive without.” My heart completely falters.

Then I register a pinch and a sting, and I squeal as I’m hit with the sensation of my skin splitting. A gush of blood pools on the dark sheets from where he re-cut the mark. And with that, my heart turns to stone.

I slap him. “You asshole, you cut me again.”

He smiles, goes utterly quiet. He then rises and strides to his desk, placing his glasses back on. He blinks a few times and his body grows limp and lifeless.

He’s switching, I realize, before my very eyes.

Inhaling deeply, he smiles and walks to me. He pulls me to my feet, not noticing the tiny slice on my thigh—or if he does notice it, he’s ignoring it.

“Come on. Let’s get you dressed and cleaned, and we’ll go upstairs. I need to introduce you to everyone, and I’ll make us some pasta. I’m a really good cook.”

My head hurts from the whiplash I just experienced, and I have no doubt he’s a phenomenal cook.

“Lincoln?” I ask, running my hand down his abdomen and his stomach twitches.

“What is it now, Summer?”

I breathe a sigh of relief.

“If I really wanted an extension on my weekly reflection, can you be persuaded?”

He looks at me, warmth radiating from his eyes. “I can always be persuaded…”

My heart bursts. I don’t care what Mikael says, Lincoln’s not so inhuman after all.