Page 135 of Lady Killer

Did Lucian Blackwell really think he was the first man to threaten me? Every single man I had killed believed himself more powerful than me, right up until he died.

“However, if you wish to place yourself in the killer’s path, far be it from me to stop you.”

I kept my face neutral instead of revealing my surprise. “And what about Everest?”

“You are lucky that he has a work obligation today and is likely counting on you not charging ahead so recklessly.”

That was it then. I had gotten what I wanted. So why did I feeluneasy?

Brushing it off, I began to rise from my seat. “I’ll go tell Alister and Nixon.”

Lucian wasn’t done with me. “Do you know why I am allowing this?”

I was stuck, halfway in and halfway out of my chair. “No?”

“Everest and Alister are currently under the false impression that they want you. Need you in fact. Do you know the easiest way to prove them wrong?”

Standing up slowly, I pinched my lips. It was obvious where he was going with this. “Get rid of me.”

“Not quite, although, I suppose either way you’ll remove yourself from the equation in the end.”

“My relationship with—‍”

“Do you know why they’re so fascinated with you? It’s not because they care for you. Everest and Alister have more blood on their hands than you can imagine, little girl.

“It’s because you’re an anomaly. A victim and a killer. Once the rush of protecting you disappears, so will their interest.”

Acid churned in my stomach. He was lying. I knew that. But his words burned me all the same.

It wasn’t enough for Lucian Blackwell to want to kill me.

He had to try to hurt me too. Make me feel small and worthless compared to the men he cared for.

I promised myself that, if I survived this, I would make him pay for it.

Chapter thirty-eight

Luz

Aheavy fog had rolled into Shady Harbor, far enough inland that even the university was shrouded by the mist. It was barely past five, the sun still a ways off from setting, but the weather made the evening prematurely dark.

Walking the path to Jackson College House, it felt like it had been a lifetime since I’d been back to my dorm. My room there had never felt like home.

I wasn’t even sure what that was in the absence ofmy mother.

But it had been my . . . space. And yet, over the last couple of weeks of being firmly embedded amongst the Blackwells, or at least Alister and Everest, that had shifted too.

As I pushed open the glass doors, my stomach did somersaults.

Alister and Nixon were around. That much I knew. Even if they hadn’t made me walk through “the plan” almost a dozen times, I could still feel their presence.

After my room was broken into, Alister had arranged for it to be cleaned, so I shouldn’t have been surprised to find it looking very much like it had the day I moved in.

There was a new set of linens on the bed, better than the ones I had before. The walls had been patched and painted, the carpet cleaned.

The bathroom was in a similar state and was mostly empty save for some shampoo and extra tampons and pads I had stored away.

It was a good thing I’d packed an overnight bag and a little sad how easy it had been to move my life from here to the townhouse.

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