Page 25 of Reaper's Hunt

A sigh escapes as I tip my head back, the wine bottle resting on my thigh, condensation dripping onto my skin. Despite the thrill of the game, I don’t really like being in control. At least with Philip, if everything goes right, I’ll be able to breathe a little.

Friday evening wraps Ashthorne in a cold, neon haze, and I’m sitting across from Philip Smission in a swanky Italian restaurant, my dark purple dress hugging my curves like a second skin. The fabric’s elegant, shimmering under the chandelier light, but it’s gonna be ruined by blood and guts before the night’s over. Good thing, because I fuckinghatepurple. I brushed off three calls from Dante earlier, swearing I’m fine, my voice all sugar to keep him at bay, but my nerves are shot, my pussy still tingling now that three men who’ve touched me in the last 48 hours.

And now I’m here, playing the seductress, ready to drag Smission into the darkness. Every detail’s planned. Dinner here, a quick fuck at a seedy motel twenty minutes out, no cameras, no questions, then a knife to his chest where I drag out my prize and send my mysterious caller the proof. I’ve backups too: a back alley, a deserted lot, even a rundown cabin if shit goes sideways. The caller’s been silent, no texts, no threats, so I’ve kept up appearances, smiling at work, texting Smission’s sleazy ass, setting the trap.

I guess the worst part is that Smission is gorgeous. He knows it too and even though he’s got nearly twenty years on me, I’d do him in a heartbeat especially with the way he fills out that suit. He’s ordered some stupidly expensive wine, the kind that tastes like money and regret, and he’s droning on about the stock market or accounting, maybe both. Can’t tell, don’t care.

My fork pushes two bites of pasta around my plate, a smile plastered on my bright red lips, all happiness and bedroom eyes, but inside, I’m screaming. His face card’s the only thing he’s got going for him. Open his mouth and he’s boring as shit, a walking sedative. I just need him to offer to take me somewhere, anywhere, so the fun can start.

The waiter clears our plates, bringing dessert but it might as well be cardboard for all I taste. My smile’s starting to ache, my fingers itching for the knife strapped to my thigh, hidden under the dress. Smission’s still talking, something about dividends, and I nod, giggling like he’s said something clever, but my mind’s elsewhere, replaying the research I did on him.

His last girl, some blonde with a vacant stare, wasn’t smart, just pretty, a trophy he paraded around before dumping her. That’s when it truly hit me. He doesn’t want brains or a challenge. He wants beautiful airheads, arm candy to stroke his ego. I’ve been playing this all wrong, leaning into flirty and sharp when I should be dumber, softer, a doll for him to play with.

Leaning forward, I let my cleavage spill a little, my earrings catching the light as I twirl a strand of silver hair around my finger. “Wow, Philip, you’re so smart,” I say, my voice high, breathy, a giggle tacked on for good measure. “Like, I don’t get any of this money stuff, but you make it sound so…sexy.” The words burn my throat, but his eyes light up, his smirk widening, and I know I’ve got him.

He chuckles as he leans back, his hand sliding across the table to brush mine. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t worry your pretty head about it,” he says, his voice dripping with condescension. “Just keep looking gorgeous and I’ll handle the rest.”

My stomach twists, but I keep the smile, batting my lashes, letting my fingers linger under his. “You’re so sweet,” I purr, tilting my head. “This place is amazing, but… maybe we could go somewhere more, like, private? Just us?”

The hunger in his eyes is instant, his cock probably already hard under the table.Gag.It’s just too fucking easy.He signals for the check, his hand squeezing mine. “Got just the place. A little spot not far from here. You’ll love it.”

Bingo. My heartbeat kicks up but I keep my expression as clueless and blank as I can. “Oh, I can’t wait,” I giggle again, my fingers tracing circles on his hand. The motel’s twenty minutes out, and if he’s thinking what I hope, he’ll drive us there, thinking he’s getting laid, not dead. My car’s already parked a street over with all of my supplies but time’s ticking and if we don’t hurry, I won’t meet the fucking deadline.

I stab my fork around the dessert plate, hoping he’ll catch onto what I’m throwing in his face.

“Full, baby?” He asks, squeezing my hand again. “That’s alright. We’ll get a box to go. Besides, I think it’s time to move into something a little more fun, yes?”

Oh, Philip, I thought you’d never ask.

Selene

Thisismyfavoritepart, the moments leading up to the kill, the moments when my victim believes he’s going to get the best fuck of his life but then dread slowly sets in, the smile slipping off his face. Then the absolutehorror. However, this kill isn’t going to sit right with me. I didn’t get enough time to do my homework and he hasn’t abused women or killed them or thrown them around. He’s a cheater for sure but needing to be killed?

Wow, am I having feelings?

I snort at that as I stare over at Philip Smission who’s out cold beside me, his body limp from the drugged wine I slipped him after our second round of drinks and snacks. Thank fuck that this motel had a little bar downstairs to order from because saying I had come prepared while pulling out a bottle of wine would have made him suspicious as fuck.

Now that I’ve got a few moments of silence to myself, though, I take a good look at this shitty hotel room with its peeling wallpaper, the stench of stale cigarettes coating everything. There’s a large window just off to the side and a bathroom a few feet from the foot of the king size bed. It’s a perfect piece of hell for Philip and just what I need. Especially since I remembered the special bedding that catches all spills and splashes so cleanup will be that much easier later.

Add in the fact that any grunting and screaming this man does will be coded as getting the fuck of his life and this place isn’tawful.

Letting out a deep breath, I slip off the bed and start rummaging through my supplies, double-checking the rope coiled on the floor, the chemical concoctions for cleanup, and then my change of clothes for when we leave. My knife’s on the nightstand, next to the glass jar I picked out for him. It’s got a yellow film with a banana handle and a cute little banana on the lid. It’s adorable and makes me smile every time I look at it, knowing it’ll hold Smission’s heart when I’m done.

I move back toward the bed, groaning as I realize I’ll never get to ride that glorious cock of his. I trace a finger along his thigh, tempted to cross the line of decency, but fucking him while he’s unconscious would be weird, even for me. And yet…

You’re not that crazy, Selene.

Smission stirs, a grunt muffled by the tape hitting my ears as his eyes open. They’re wide with panic as he realizes he’s bound, naked, and helpless, a feeling I’m sure he’s not used to having. But that just makes this moment more delicious as I lean over him, my silver hair spilling over my shoulder. “Hey, no hard feelings, right?”

His muffled scream vibrates through the tape and I decide to rip it off, wanting to hear his words. “No hard feelings? You fucking drugged me! Do you need money or something? Is this for blackmail?”

I burst out laughing as I climb onto the bed, grabbing my knife to twirl in my hand as I focus on him again. “Money? Nah, Philip, this ain’t about cash. You’re just a job, a name on a list.” A predatory smile spread across my face as the excitement of a kill begins to spread through me. I don’t want to kill Philip per se but the killing in general? Yes, please. “But don’t worry, I’ll make it quick.Mostly.” Cutting out someone’s heart is never quick.

His grunts turn desperate as he tries to struggle, realizing that the drug I’ve given him is perfectly crafted to take over his body. I take another few moments to look over his perfectly crafted body, the mussed silver hair, the muscles clenching beneath his abs, that terrified expression on his face that still makes me think a quick fuck wouldn’t be so bad.

You shouldn’t have paralyzed his dick, then.

I chuckle at my own thoughts before deciding to start in on my mission. There aren’t that many hours left before midnight and I’m not that curious to see what the mysterious caller has up his sleeve. I swing a leg over his hips so I’m straddling him, placing a soft hand to his chest to calm him. Then I remember he can’t feel that touch and I am holding a knife in the other hand. “Philip, I don’t need money, but if I said I wasn’t getting paid for this, I’d be lying. This isn’t for blackmail. As I said, you’re just another job for me. Besides, your infidelity is all over the goddamn place. Philip, your dick’s all overCatch Me. No, someone paid me to kill you.”

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