Everest
“Song 2” by Blur played in my head as I let the little temptress into Locke’s office.
Not that it took much convincing on her part. Annoying Locke was my sixth favorite pastime.
I wasn’t lying about the security in his office. Starbright was lucky I’d made it to campus in time to tail her. I’d been finishing up a demonstration for some of our more advanced contractors when my phone chimed with a notification from the app I used to track her phone. Being ableto get closer to her these days was a dream as far as stalking her went.
My fingers itched with the need to tap out the song’s distinctive opening drum line.
Instead, I played it cool and made myself at home on Locke’s fancy-schmancy desk.
I’d never declared my intentions to woo a lady before. Or anyone for that matter. Lucian commanded, and I took his desires into consideration.
. . . and I did so often enjoy those desires.
But I had never actively courted someone.
I was going to kill it.
Not literally.
“I have a present for you,” I said, fighting the urge to rip the ribbon off the package myself so I could show her that much quicker.
She gently tugged at the ribbon, and I swore I felt it in my cock.
Nixon didn’t believe she was a virgin.
Locke thought she was a tease.
Alister said nothing.
I didn’t understand the fascination with the fleshy membrane inside her. Beyond the fact that the police thought the killer was targeting virgins.
Speaking as a violent sadist, I felt we were all missing something. Not quite seeing the pigs for the sausages, so to speak.
“What am I looking at?” Luz asked, careful not to betray her reaction.
“They shouldn’t have let such vile filth fall from their lips if they didn’t want to lose them.”
“Their lips . . . Whose lip—Oh! You cut off their lips?”
I knew she would love them.
“Are they still alive?”
Regrettably.
Her mouth formed a perfect mauve O before it snapped shut, the lid to the gift box following.
She paused, looking at me with an unreadable expression, like she wasn’t sure how to act around me.
I didn’t like that.
What if she doesn’t like her present? What if she liked the lips better on those girls?
What was this? Doubt?
No. No, no. Not for me.