Page 125 of The Cute Psycho

"But you're..." He frowns at me, since we're about the same age.

"Yes. The earliest kill that I remember was when I was eight. Might have killed before then." I shrug, almost certain I'd killed before.

No one suddenly wakes up with a thirst for blood without having been conditioned to it. And I'm becoming increasingly sure that whatever Miles did to me must have damaged something inside of me.

"So you see, I'm not going to be that easy to take down. Which is why I'd like to train you until you become familiar with my moves."

Seth nods, intrigued.

"There is one more thing," I add, "and probably the most important one.Never,and I meanneverlet me harm Sisi. I'd rather you kill me before I even set my sights on her."

She might be able to ground me for now, but I never want to take any risks with her safety. I'd rather be dead than know I'd doneanything to her in one of my rages. Because knowing the usual results, I can only imagine the state I'd leave her in.

"Your girlfriend?" Seth asks, and my lips pull up in a smile.

"Yes, my girlfriend. You are to protect her at all times.Sheis your charge. I come second."

He tilts his head, looking at me intently before typing something.

"Does she know that?"

"No, she does not. And we'll keep it like that." I smile ruefully.

Sisi might hate me, but for the first time I find that I'd rather preserve someone's life than take it.

I spend some time going over everything with Seth, wanting to make sure things will be perfect in case something happens.

By the end of the evening, I am already tired.

I've been getting more and more tired.

Weary might be a better word for this tiredness that seems to seep into my bones and strip everything from me.

It's funny how a few months ago I would have been fine just going through life like I've always done, recklessly and carelessly, even the rush of killing fading over time.

Now there's her...

And her presence in my life has just shown me how pathetic I've been before. The thought that I may not have too much longer would have delighted me in the past. After all, why would anyone want to live if nothing ever brought joy, with the simple act of living being a burden? Now, for the first time, dying makes me scared. Because then she'd be gone.

I wouldn't see, touch, or smell her.

"Maxim," I dial his number, "find me the best psychiatrist in the city."

I'm grasping at straws, but I have to try it.

For her.

My last resort is Miles, but it's taken me nine years to get here. Who knows when I'll find him? And with how fast my condition is advancing, I'm afraid I won't make it.

"Don't be sad." Vanya's lips are down-turned as she takes me in. "Idon't like it when you're sad," she says, swinging her feet off the bed and coming to my side.

"I'm not sad, V. Ican'tbe sad, remember?" I attempt a smile for her benefit.

"You are. I can feel it." She takes my hand and brings it to her chest. Her gesture is endearing, so I allow it for a moment.

But as I blink, I see my hand lodged into her chest cavity, blood pouring down my knuckles.

"What..." I draw back as if burned.

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