Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 40901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
For the most part, I sit in a cell, similar to the sort of cell I once intended to put Katie in, yet never had the heart or stomach to do once she was in my prison. I now see it was, just as she said, a prison for me more than it ever was for her. She is more sensible than I am. She is less driven by emotion. She is brighter, braver, bolder, better. I do not deserve her.
And she’s back.
“How are you doing, Sheriff?” She leans against the door frame and smirks at me triumphantly.
I think she’s trying to get a rise out of me. She won’t get one. I’m too grateful to be annoyed by her sass. Besides, a smart man knows when he is beaten. I can sit in this little room for as long as she needs me to. Could be months. Could be years. A good hunter knows how to be patient, and I’ve always fancied myself an excellent hunter. I’ll get out one of these days, as and when I’m meant to.
Katie
Keeping him prisoner is not as much fun as I had imagined it would be. I suppose he could have told me that. You think it’s fun to keep your arch-enemy-turned-lover all trussed up under lock and key, but actually you can’t really play with them under those circumstances, can you? I thought revenge might be sweet, but if anything, it is boring.
He looks at me. “I miss Deimos more than I miss anything. Even my freedom. Is that strange?”
“Is it strange you miss your magical flying pony horse? No,” I say. “It is not strange at all. It is slightly insulting that you miss him more than me, but I suppose I am your captor now.”
“I don’t miss him more than you, but you are here.” He cocks his head at me. “Are you jealous of Deimos, Katie?”
The most unsatisfying thing about keeping this man prisoner is that he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. He has accepted his fate with grace. I suppose he knows he’s getting what he deserves. No wonder the devil is so bored and needing to go out into the world to seek more trouble.
“I am not jealous,” I reply.
I am leaning against the door frame as I speak to him. He could attempt to escape, if he liked. He could burst past me and find himself at the mercy of my guards. It is nice to wear proper clothing again, to have my hair done, my nails manicured, and appropriate accessories worn. Today I am wearing a champagne pantsuit with gold chains about my neck and wrist. My nails are classically French tipped, and I am wearing a scent from a delightfully exclusive little Italian perfumer.
“You look good,” he says. “You looked better naked in my bed.”
“Unfortunately, your bed is now a mattress pad and plastic covered pillow. So…”
He smirks. “Well, Katie, darling. I guess my material circumstances are up to you now, aren’t they?”
I do miss him. I shouldn’t, because he is a sadistic, murderous pawn of the devil, but I suppose we all have our flaws.
“I have come to make you an offer,” I say, hoping that this sounds planned to him, and not a completely spur of the moment act of emotion. “If you can be a good boy and behave yourself, I will allow you some freedom. You could be useful in a place like this. Occasionally some of our research subjects get a little feisty.”
“Like the girl from Direview who got her ass spanked last time I was here?”
“That little angel brat is well contained now, I imagine, but there will be others. You have a nose for angelblood, and in general, when supervised, decent instincts in handling them.”
“You want me to be your angel brat wrangler.”
“I think you could be sufficiently scary for most of them to behave themselves,” she says. “I’d provide you accommodation, of course, and…”
“No deal.”
“No deal?” I feel my brows lift in surprise. “What deal do you imagine I’ll cut with you?”
“I’ll do whatever you want, Katie,” he says. “But on one condition.” He stands up and approaches me. He looks a little less stiff now. He must be feeling better. He must be feeling more dangerous.
“STEP BACK!” One of my guards booms the order, nearly deafening me.
“It’s alright, Spencer,” I say, wincing as my right ear drum rings. “He’s not going to do anything stupid. Is he?” I ask the question with a stern look in Starlight’s direction.
“I want you,” he says. “I want to be with you. In your bed. In your life. I want to be there when you wake up and when you go to sleep. I want to serve you the way you deserve to be served.”