Page 1 of Reaper Flame

PROLOGUE

“You know I have to do this, Kitten.” Hiram’s voice came from above. “It’s the only way.”

Chains locked my wrists and ankles in place. They were pointless. We both knew I wouldn’t resist. No, the restraints weren’tjustabout physically immobilizing me. Hiram needed to satisfy his sick fucking desire to control another human being. To controlme.

“I understand,” I mumbled, avoiding looking in his direction and keeping my gaze fixed on the gray, blood-flecked ceiling.I’d survived five years in Blackthorne Towers with Hiram before. Acceptance and obedience were easier.

Goosebumps raced over my skin from the chill of the metal table beneath me. The temperature didn’t bother me. My mind was already far away from my body, thinking about the life I left behind… and the betrayal I couldn’t stop reliving.

Hiram grabbed my chin with a blood-stained butcher glove and jerked my head upward to face the boning knife. He rotated it, making the shiny edge glint off the glaring white light. I swallowed hard, causing a wide grin to spread over Hiram’s face.

“There’s no need to be afraid,” he purred, wrongly interpreting my reaction as fear. “I’ll make it quick.”

Bullshit.When Hiram took victims to his workshop in the depths of Blackthorne Towers, he made the experience last. This was his dungeon playroom, and I was his favorite toy.

Hiram’s blade didn’t scare me, though. Neither did what he was about to do with it. What made me shiver was having the blood of his victims smeared over my face. His hands had brought hundreds of lives to an end. Some of them deserved to die, but there were others who begged for mercy because their only error was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. When Hiram decided you were going to die, there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Hiram forced my head to the right, brutally slamming my cheek against the table with a thud to pin me in place. He swept my hair off my neck and danced the blade over my skin, leaving a stinging trail behind.

I didn’t make a sound. I welcomed it. Hell, Iwantedit! Pain is exactly what I deserved.Hiram may have thought he was delivering a punishment, but he was doing me a favor. I deserved to be punished for my stupidity.

“Ready or not,” Hiram said.

I needed to wipe my time in Port Valentine from existence. I wanted it gone. The memories. The Sevens. They were not part of me. Not anymore.

“Do it,” I spat.

Hiram’s fingers gripped my throat, almost cutting off my airway. My eyes watered as he made the first slice. He scraped the skin from my body easier than spreading butter on a piece of toast. The sound of flesh splitting filled my ears as warm liquid slid down my neck. Pain was better than remembering.

Fuzzy dots obscured my vision as I fought for breath. My lungs burned for oxygen, and a heavy darkness hovered close by, begging to swallow me whole. I hoped it would.

Just as I started losing consciousness, Hiram released his hold. I returned to my body and the nightmare I hoped I’d wake up from.Fuck.

“You were always mine,” Hiram said. He ran the flat of the knife over his tongue, savoring the taste of my blood. In his other hand, he held up the patch of skin like a trophy. It was the size of a postage stamp with an inked outline of the number seven. “Now you’re mine again.”

Why couldn’t erasing the Sevens from my life be as simple as getting a tattoo removed? Removing my mark of loyalty didn’t strip away the memories. Memories I couldn’t trust. How much of my time with the Sevens had been real? Was everything a lie?

The hole in my neck didn’t come close to the crippling ache in my chest. Watching Zander shake hands with Hiram ruined me, but shooting Rocky desecrated my fucking soul. I may have pulled the trigger, but Zander was equally to blame. He removed the bullets from Rocky’s gun, and his meticulous plans hadn’t taken into account how far Rocky was willing to go to protect me.

Had Vixen or West played a part in Zander’s scheming? Either way, it didn’t matter. I’d broken a Seven rule by shooting Rocky. None of them would ever forgive me. With my track record, they’d never accept that I hadn’t meant to hurt him — well, notreallyhurt him. A bullet to the shoulder should have subdued him! Why did he have to move at the final second? He could be lying in a morgue now, and it was all my fault.

“Why don’t we do something special with this?” Hiram suggested, examining the skin with satisfaction. He wasn’t finished yet. “What do you think, Kitten? It’ll make a perfect gift.”

He carried it to his workbench on the opposite side of the room, leaving my wound open as blood soaked into my hair. He positioned his tools in the perfect position for me to watch. How considerate.

Hiram hummed as he carefully placed my skin on a piece of paper and pulled out a needle and thread to carefully sew it down like a fucking cross stitch. The Sevens were violent killers, but they had nothing on Hiram’s depravity. As well as being a psychopathic serial murderer, he was a creative genius.

“How does it look?” Hiram prompted, holding up his work like we were kindergarteners playing show and tell. I didn’t answer so he moved it closer, waving it inches from my face. “Well?”

“Perfect,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Everyone will know you’re mine again.”

My stomach churned as he stashed his art inside an envelope, licking it shut and smearing remnants of my blood over the seal. He turned the envelope around to show the name of the addressee:Zander Briarly.

Seeing his name in ink made my blood boil. I bet the bastard would frame Hiram’s gift and hang it on his office wall like a proud parent displaying their kids’ drawings on the fridge. Whenever anyone asked about it, Zander would gloat about how he tricked the Kitten into his bed and fooled her into trusting him. Rocky warned me Zander was a monster, but I didn’t listen. Ihatedhim. More than Hiram. More than anyone else in the world. More than I hated Rocky all those years ago.

“Why send it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. The blood loss was making me light-headed, but I couldn’t pass out on Hiram’s watch. If I did, I risked waking up without an ear. “I’m home now, aren’t I?”

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