Prologue
Kiss Me Honey Honey
Sitting in the shadows at the back of the bar, he nursed a glass of water he had no intention of drinking. He wouldn’t drink anything he hadn’t prepared himself. Lesson learned and ingrained. Thank you very much for that survival tip. Scanning the crowd, he lingered here and there.Observing. Couples laughed. Eyes bright with a youthful naivety age would soon erode. And they slanted toward each other. Familiar.Intimate. Completely unaware of the forces that could take it all away in an instant.
He despised them all.
Especially the innocent ones.
With their smiles blinding, and voices a cacophony of adolescent hopefulness, they irritated the fuck out of him. Every smile. Every touch. Every moment of carelessness clawed at him. They were too trusting. Too willing to throw themselves into the arms of someone they’d only just met, chasing the fleeting thrill of connection. Didn’t they know? Couldn’t they see? The world wasn’t safe. It was a stage of masks and lies, where monsters walked among them unnoticed.
Tonight, he would remind them of that.
Call it a national service, if you will.
The dim lights painted the bar in swirling hues of purple and blue, giving the crowd an almost dreamlike quality. He savoured the mayhem. The mingling of bodies. And the thrum of the bass vibrating through the walls, aiding their careless abandon. It was intoxicating. Not for what it was, but for what it could become. For him. And for one lucky chosen one.
A single kiss would change everything.
As they so often did.
Swiping his tongue along the scars running over his bottom lip, he had the usual stark reminder of the incident that had caused it and how it hadn’t healed properly, creating the deformity that made people flinch before they saw anything else. It was his fault, of course. Because he too, once, long ago, had been just as trusting. Just as susceptible to a pretty face. He’d soon learned, though. Been taught the error of his ways. Giving in to temptation was a disease. A weakness. The ultimate deficiency in mankind. And his punishment for having been so gullible was now a permanent fixture on his face that no one would ever look beyond.
Those scars made him undesirable. And, luckily now,invisibleto those searching for a potential match. He used that to his advantage, teaching all those other ignorant delinquents a lesson in vanity.
Hehatedthem. With their selfies. Their pouts. Their filters. And how they would all post their perfect images for all to admire. Gaining followers and admirers as if they were a stamp collection.
How veryvain.
He hated them more than he hated the one who had done this tohim. But not being able to exact revenge onher, he had to make do with anyone wholookedlike her.Actedlike her. Then one day he could use what he’d tried and tested and have her pay the ultimate price.
But for now, he had to practice. Hone his craft. And who better to do that on than those who thought they were invincible? It was proof to the world to stay vigilant. To keep teaching that stranger danger. Not everyone clicking like on a pretty profile picture is afriend.
So he glanced around the bar, searching for the perfect test subject among the many. He despised how they all seemed to crave what he’d never have. What had been taken away from him before he’d even understood what she erased from his life. Affection.Love. It wasn’t jealousy, or a sense of rejection, leading him tothis. He didn’t want tobethem. Vying for attention. Clawing to be noticed.Love me, love me.That was all so…crass. What he created was his own form of intimacy. Oneheorchestrated. Wherehedecided who was the giver and who was the taker. So many gave in to a kiss with a stranger. Stupid and unwitting.Vulnerable. And they were stupid for it.
Hiskiss would be the last one they ever had. And it wouldn’t be the likes of any Disney fairytale. He could be certain on that, at least.
Across the room, a girl laughed, her blonde hair catching the light as she tipped her head back. She was theperfectcandidate. Bright-eyed, eager to please, with a smile begging for attention. She nodded as her friends spoke, but she didn’t belong. He could tell. Her laughter was too loud, her gestures too deliberate. She was trying too hard.
A fake.
He knew her type. She was like the others. Desperate for validation. For someone to see her. Tochooseher.
Tonight, he would.
Tonight, she belonged to him.
He fingered the small, unassuming tube of balm in his pocket. The formula was his own concoction, carefully crafted, perfected over the years. One bonus to being a recluse was gaining a thirst for knowledge, throwing himself into books andscience. Shutting himself off from people had allowed him to develop the left side of his brain, discarding the need for the hypothalamus. Because he had no use forpeopleand their messy hormones. Dopamine, oxytocin, vasopressin, they were allunpredictable. Science…science was logic and reason. And he’d learned, through trial and error as a scientist does, how much toxin to mix to ensure lethality without instantly giving him away. It was a skill. One he’d refined. A precise art. Should he release this into the world, he’d be considered a genius. But he had no need, want, or desire for accolade or status. What he had a thirst for wasthis. Staying in the shadows. Watching his experiments as if they were lab rats.
Helovedthis part.
Pushing up from the table, his pulse raced, something it only did in these moments. And he weaved through the crowd, making himself unremarkable. He knew the right way to approach. Sudden but not too forceful, charming without seeming too interested. The way it had worked on him. Although, he’d been a mere child then. Lured by sweets and treats. This wasn’t much different. Sweets and treats now made way for sex as the ultimate in adult temptation.
Her friends were engaged in their own conversations, unaware of his presence, and, indeed, hers, and that suited him fine. He wouldn’t have chosen her if he believed there would be a threat of others intervening. Like when he had been lured from the playground, his friends hadn’t noticed his absence for hours. She was just as invisible in her friendship group as he was to them and the entire world. Because she might be pretty, but she wasn’t prettyenough. Might be slim, but she wasn’t slimenough. Her personality might shine, but that meant nothing when under dimmed lights and drowned out by loud music. She was the one within the group who often felt out of place. Where did she fit?
Right here withhim.
The girl looked up as he advanced into her space, eyes holding a hint of curiosity and, more importantly, none of the suspicion that would make his job difficult.