Home > Twisted Together (Monsters in the Dark #3)(112)

Twisted Together (Monsters in the Dark #3)(112)
Author: Pepper Winters

I took another step, my finger trembling over the trigger. “Why?”

He cricked his neck, the gun steady in his hands. “Because I’d like to know the name of the woman I’m about to slaughter. I’ll murmur it in a curse every night while I rape a woman—all the while imagining she’s you.”

The vile sentence didn’t affect me. I was beyond affecting. “My name is Tess Snow. And you won’t be cursing it. You’ll be whimpering it.”

He laughed. “Come closer and we’ll see.” His red shoes inched toward me, closing the gap, bringing us closer to the final conclusion.

“Tess! Don’t.” Franco’s voice rang around the space. I ignored him.

“Do you know what I am?” I whispered.

Lynx’s nostrils flared. “What you are? You’re nothing but a—” He shook his head. “Wait, no…I see it—you’re…”

“I’m his. I married the night and became his monster. And you should fear me.” Nothing else existed inside. No residual issues of kidnapping, death, or pain. Nothing but peace.

I controlled my fate. Right here. Right now. And my fate was to kill and be killed. We would die together. I would wear his blood as I descended into the underworld.

“You ask if I see what you are. I do.” His demeanour changed from angry to smooth. “You’re not worthy of death, Tess Snow. Your previous owner is dead. I claim you as my new property. Come to me and I’ll let you live.” His gaze slithered over my body. “I’ll treat you right. I’ve searched all my life for a woman like you.”

Another step. Only a metre left. Grabbing distance. Shooting distance.

“A woman like me?”

“A woman so broken she doesn’t even know. A woman strong enough to survive anything because she no longer feels anything.” His arm lowered a little, believing his fantasy—that he could win me. That he could acquire me.

I laughed.

Everyone froze—the dungeon pulsed as I slipped from sanity to insane. I lowered my gun.

I’d never felt more clear. More powerful. He’s already dead. I knew how I’d do it. “You want to own me?” Softness entered my voice, ghosting over the tiles toward Lynx.

“Tess—come back here,” Franco ordered. “Whatever you’re doing—stop it.”

The awareness between me and Q’s killer grew stronger, blocking everyone out. I didn’t look at Q or pay attention to Franco. I was single-minded. Locked on my prey. Mouth watering with the knowledge I’d won.

Lynx smiled, eye’s glinting with interest. “Yes. Stand by my side. I would be proud to keep you. You’d have my word I would never sell you—as long as you stayed this cold.” His accent danced with sensuality, dragging me closer toward him. Idiot. Buffoon.

“You want to own my body. But what about my mind?” One last step. Space meant nothing anymore. Such a short space. A killable space.

His pistol lowered, hypnotised by his own illusion. “I want to own all of you. Give it to me and I’ll treat you better than he ever did.”

He. Q. My heart launched out of my chest, winging to my dead master. My skin was sleet and snow, but it was almost over. Soon, my maître. Soon, I’m coming for you. I noticed everything as if I’d stepped outside my body. Every nuance, every threat was achingly clear.

One more step. Lynx’s body heat buffeted me—his expensive cologne made me want to vomit. But I looked into his eyes, invoking the sweetest poison of my soul. I made him believe. “I doubt you can,” I murmured, looking up through lowered lashes. The room was stagnant with tension—it was soup—unstrained syrup.

Lynx was bewitched. “Doubt I can what?” He leaned forward, eyes latching onto my lips.

“Treat me better than he ever did.” His body curved, swaying toward me, drugged on the poison I fed. “I’ll accept your terms, if you do one thing for me. One tiny thing.”

His lips hovered a fraction above mine. “Do what?”

I tilted my head, hair falling over one eye. “Ask what I want in return. Then I’ll give you all that I am.”

His forehead furrowed, his temper growing. “You’re too bold. But I’ll do it—one request, then no more.” He reached for my chin, holding me. I ignored the insects crawling beneath his touch. Soon. It would be over….soon. “What do you want?”

My eyes rested on Q. His wonderful body, his gorgeous features. I fanned the love in my heart, cocooning myself with strength. On barely a whisper, I said, “You can’t give me what I want.”

Lynx pulled back, the fog retreating from his eyes, finally sensing my trap. But it was too late.

“You can’t give it to me because I want your f**king soul.” I pressed my weapon against his cock. I fired.

A second.

That’s all it took.

The bullet tore through soft intimate flesh, making him scream. And scream. And scream. His pistol swung upward but I was ready. I shot his hand. Blood filled the wound, spilling with a steady trickle. The weapon skittered away like a scared animal, sliding into a corner of the room.

Lynx crashed to the floor, holding his bloody trousers, incomprehensible with pain.

Franco tried to grab me, but I didn’t stop or care. Slapping him away, I knelt beside Lynx, letting his groaning agony wash over me. I pushed a fingertip into his blood, gathering the life-paint, smearing it across my cheek. The cooling ooze was a hard-won trophy. I swelled with retribution.

I did this for you, Q. I’ve avenged you.

“Help—someone!” Lynx spluttered between his screams. Slamming a hand over his mouth, I shut him up. His feeble fights were nothing to the rage making me inhumanly strong. I didn’t care my knees got wet as I kneeled by his head. I didn’t care his blood soaked through my clothes, baptising me in horror. All I cared about was the last words I wanted to say. To him. To the traffickers who’d taken me. To evil itself.

I bowed over him, whispering in his ear, “My name is Tess Mercer. I’m no longer weak or afraid or broken. I’ve taken control of my fate. I no longer need a tower or dark angels or help. I am fear. And I take your soul in penance for everything that was done to me. I take it for the women you’ve raped. I take it for the women you’ve sold. I take it for my master, soul-mate, and husband. I take you for me.”

Pressing the gun against his forehead, I locked eyes with his chaotic gaze. He begged me silently. He pleaded wordlessly. And no compassion filled me.

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