Page 138 of Lourdes & the Mafia
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” He stumbles backwards. He squints his eyes closed and violently shakes his head back and forth. “No, no, no, no.” His hands reach up and tug at his curls. “Fuck!”
“Lorenzo,” Ramiel snaps. “What?!”
“Lourdes… she… she wanted to wear the white dress. She asked me if she could try it on. She acted almost… sad, but I had to go to the Land of Lament. I… should have fucking realized what she was doing.”
“What are you saying?” I ask slowly. Already I can feel the hold on my sanity slipping, like it was never really there at all to begin with.
Maybe that’s just who I am now.
A monster of pain and torture and madness.
“I’m saying,” Lorenzo says, “that Lourdes has gone over to him. Somehow, she knew what she was doing. She planned it.”
That woman.
I’ll fucking tan her ass raw for this. I’ll punish her. I’ll push her to the edge of wanting until she’s screaming and writhing and begging, and I will not let her reach release.
That’s what I’ll fucking do to her when I get her back.
My mate. My mate. My mate.
A ferocity grows inside me, a beast clawing and mawing its way out. I can’t keep a tether on it anymore.
It’s too late.
I’m already gone.
“How do we find her?” My voice is the guttural growl of a beast. My talons curl into my palms, drawing blood from my skin. I want to draw the blood of someone else. From Rami. From Lorenzo, for daring to let her out of his sight.
From myself, for letting her get out of my arms.
Next time, I’m tying her to the fucking bed.
And I’m never fucking letting her go.
Lorenzo
Guiltgnawsatmyinsides. I knew; in the back of my mind, I think I knew something was wrong with Lourdes. It was the sadness in her eyes as she looked into my own. It was the soft way she caressed my hair and whispered words I didn’t think she was yet ready to say.
I should have known. I should have known she was planning something like this.
Her heart is too big. She saw Ramiel get hurt, and she wanted to stop it. I’m sure that’s why she suited up as if she were going out to battle. It’s why she let me dress her so tenderly. Why she asked for a spelled dress.
And I, the fool, couldn’t see past what she was plotting since the beginning.
I was so worried about the souls in my territory that I neglected to see that my mate needed me.
Mate.
Mate.
It feels so right when I think the words. I want to whisper them across her flesh.
After I—we—get her back.
But how are we even going to find her?
Kane has all but unleashed his true form. He reeks of violence and blood. I’m barely grasping onto mine as we speak, but I need to maintain a semblance of calm.
