31. Malic
Malic
Watching the good doctor from the shadows of the blood drive was thrilling.
Even more than the blood willingly dripping from her intended victims. Poor saps, they had no fucking clue she was salivating to get her hands on them.
She flitted around, going from one unsuspecting victim to the next, never knowing I was watching her from the corner of the room.
My eyes never left her.
Well, until I got a wee bit distracted. More than a wee bit. A whole-lotta-bit. But that tends to happen when my obsession walks through the door with another man.
My little ghost still cleverly conceals herself as Oliver Davenport. One day, I’ll strip her of those baggy clothes and feast on what I know lies beneath.
And that day will be glorious. Especially when I can prove to Wilder that his unspoken attraction to Oliver isn’t unfounded. He doesn’t understand yet. One day, he will, and I’ll be the one to throw back the curtain and show Wilder exactly what he wants to see.
Until then, I have business to attend to. People to bleed dry. A doctor to face the consequences of her actions.
I hum to myself as the lights overhead in my favorite room buzz, creating a perfect melody.
This is the life, isn’t it? I’ve got a doctor prisoner to interrogate, and this time, I don’t have to worry about a fucking war nipping at my heels.
Although I’d welcome it. Those pricks need to learn a lesson, and I’ll be happy to volunteer as their executioner.
A grin stretches over my lips as I stare at the black-rimmed glasses resting in my hand. Not too heavy. But not light either. If I were a good little boy, I’d give them back to their owner.
But I’m not a good little boy. I’m wicked.
My little ghost will have to get very creative if she ever wishes to see her magical glasses again.
Maybe then she can help me understand why she’s really here and dressed like a man.
Perhaps I should strip her naked and play until she screams with pleasure.
Then I can wring the answers from her lips.
Because drugging her into oblivion at my party didn’t do a damn thing but make her pass out in my bed.
Something I won’t complain about. Not at all.
She curled so close to me, muttering about being tired and the room spinning.
I’m glad she didn’t puke in my bed. However, that may have given me a reason to undress her. Wait. No. I’m not that obsessed. Right?
I lean against the kitchen counter, watching Simon animatedly talk to another man who gives him a knowing grin as he looks around the kitchen. Hmm. That’s not who he showed up to the party with. Interesting…
“Something to make my friends…” I hear bits and pieces of his conversation with the guy who grins, pointing at the various bottles of booze lining the counter and the red cups, like they’re trying to decide what to make themselves with the booze our boss provided for this makeshift initiation interest.
Friends, he says. Does this perhaps involve my little ghost?
Hmmm. I peek around, trying to seek them out, and grin when Olivia comes into view, dressed like Oliver with a weary expression.
My poor little ghost. She’s nervous to be here.
Maybe I should help her relax a little more.
Yes. That’s what I should do. Help her relax and unwind.
She deserves it, after all. And me? Well, I have the perfect recipe for that.
Waltzing forward, I pluck a bottle of vodka, gin, coconut rum, and pink schnapps from the counter with an enthusiastic grin. Yes, this will be my greatest achievement of the night. Even with Keeper’s voice bouncing around my skull like a little conscience, I drown him out.
I fucking need this.
“If you’ll allow me,” I say with a grin, gesturing to the bottles and two empty cups. “I might have the perfect combination for you and your friends.”
Simon’s eyes widen, and a hint of fear sparks there. Even his friend takes a step back at the sight of me. Oh, maybe I’m smiling too much. Now is not the time to scare her friend away.
“Sure!” Simon chipperly says. “What is it?”
“Ohhh, a fun pink drink.” I grin more as I prepare the drinks, putting copious amounts of alcohol into the cup.
Especially hers. Peeking over my shoulder, I take note of Simon talking with his friend again, chatting away and not paying an ounce of attention to me as I slip the goo from four Tylenol PMs into Olivia’s drink.
Nothing too much that it’ll hurt her, but enough to loosen her tight little lips and send her straight to me.
“Here you are!” I say, handing over the loaded pink drink to Simon with a grin. “Give it a try.”
He beams at me with glazed-over eyes and takes a sip. Instantly, his eyes widen, and he takes another gulp. “Oh, it’s so good! Thank you.”
“Oh, you are so welcome. Make sure your friend Oliver gets this one?” That’s not too suspicious, is it? Nah. It can’t be, especially with the smile crossing Simon’s lips. He doesn’t suspect a damn thing.
Idiot.
I almost scold him for being a terrible friend and taking drinks from people he doesn’t really know, but that defeats the purpose of this. I need my little ghost to consume the drink so she can tell me everything she knows.
Simon blinks at me several times and takes it without hesitation. “Absolutely. Oli is going to love this, too!”
Yes, I bet Oliver will.
Nothing sent shivers down my spine like watching her consume the drink I specifically made for her.
Her eyes drooped. Her body slowed down. And when she came to speak to me?
Well, all bets were off. The second her eyes shut for good, I dragged her to my bed, and no one knew where she disappeared to.
“Little Ghost,” I murmur, moving the short strands of her hair from off her forehead.
“Mhmm,” she mutters under her breath.
“Why are you here, Little Ghost? What brought you to Greenwood University?”
Did you come back to me? Do you remember me from when we were kids? It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her.
“Business,” she mutters again, letting a small snore tear through her throat.
“And what kind of business? Tell me, Olivia,” I practically beg, holding her close against my body. Thank God my keeper was preoccupied and didn’t notice the moment I slipped out of the party with her under my arm.
But all I get in return is more snores and her body melting into mine.
“I’d keep you here forever, if I could. But maybe another time I’ll pry the answers out of you,” I mutter, leaning my forehead against hers and relishing in the heat of her body.
It grounds me here in the now, taking away the manic thoughts roaming through my head and the thumping music from below.
All too soon, the music stops, the people leave, and Wilder grumbles a goodnight through the door without checking in on me. It’s a win-win. My only problem is the snoring girl, dressed as a man, lying beside me.
It’s too bad she didn’t spill her guts to me. Oh well, another place, another time. I suppose. I’m a patient man. Well, as patient as I can be. I’ve waited five years for her to come back. I let her slip through my fingers once.
Never again.
I smirk, taking a quick picture of her in my arms, and sigh heavily when she snuggles closer to my chest. Even in her sleep form, she knows who she truly belongs to.
Me.
If I could stay in this position until she wakes up, I would. But she’s persistent in keeping herself hidden from everyone. So, I’ll continue to keep her secret from the world. And let her think I don’t know anything.
I shake myself out of the memories of that night before I try to slip away and do it again. I could get used to having Olivia in my arms, knowing exactly where she is and what she’s doing. But the timing isn’t right. Not even when I dropped her into her bed and tucked her in for the night.
“Good night, Little Ghost,” I mutter, pulling the blanket up to her chest. “Now, you won’t mind if I snoop a little, will you?
” I grin when her only response is to snore again.
So adorable. So precious. I can’t wait to have her in my bed every night sounding exactly like this.
“That’s what I thought,” I hum to myself as I stand before her dresser and cock my head.
“Now, if I were a secret you wanted to tuck away and hide, where would I be?” I stroke my chin as I pull open the top drawer and smirk at the fabric staring back at me.
“Oh, boxers. How brave of you, Little Ghost. Really committed to the part, then.”
I chuckle, rifling through them until my fingers hit something hard and my brows furrow as I dig further.
“Well, what is this, hmm?” I grin, holding the purple vibrator in the air and admiring it.
The strong urge to sniff it overtakes me, but I don’t give in.
I’m not that big of a creep. Am I? I mean, I am rifling through her things, trying to find out her secrets.
That’s all. Not licking her vibrator to see if her pussy tastes like I remember.
I grin more when my thumb brushes against a button, and it starts to vibrate loudly in the room.
Quickly, I turn it off and shove it back into the drawer.
“Well, that was close.” I peek at her again as she rolls to her side, giving me her back.
Or not.
“Well, one sex toy down. What else are you hiding beneath your boxers? More sex toys?” I murmur to myself as I continue digging and stop again when more items brush against my fingers.
“Well, well.” I grin at the sight of a small shield, displaying the name Veritas. “Agent Seven? Now, that’s interesting.”
I hum as I come back to the present and take a deep breath.
Now is not the time to get lost in the naughty memories of my favorite ghost. Instead, I refocus my gaze as I inspect the shiny badge etched with the number seven sitting in my hands.
If only it could talk and tell me everything.
A shame it can’t. Olivia wouldn’t talk. Her badge won’t say a word.
Maybe I’ll get lucky with my newest guest, occupying the metal chair in the middle of my basement lair, and she’ll give me the answers I’m seeking.
Third time is the charm, right?
A loud groan echoes from behind me, drawing me back to the matter at hand. Dr. Lohr. My newest prisoner. My newest pincushion.
“Oh, goody! You’re awake. Just in time for the festivities.” A grin splits my lips when I turn around and face the woman of the hour. “Welcome to the party, Dr. Lohr. We have a lot of fun topics to discuss.”