Page 154 of Buried in Blood

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I’ll remake her.

I’ll pull the bones from her body and rebuild her spine with obedience.

I’ll hollow her out and stuff her full of silence.

And when she begs me to kill her?

I’ll kiss her instead.

Because death would be too easy.

And I am not a merciful god.

I am Midas.

And everything I touch bleeds gold.

Even her.

Even now.

43

Damien

The hall is too quiet.

Too still.

Even the air has gone heavy, like it’s holding its breath—waiting for blood.

I stand at the end of the corridor, staring at the double doors of the chapel. I needed an unused space for my cleansing, and what better place than a chapel?

My hands are clean. For now. My thoughts are not.

They never are.

Two girls wait behind those doors. Young. Frightened. Beautiful in that fleeting, breakable way. They tremble when I look at them, which tells me they still understand divinity. Still recognize wrath as something sacred.

They’ll do.

They have to.

Because something needs to bleed tonight.

Reese stands beside me, silent. Obedient.

But I see the flicker in his eyes. Doubt. Guilt. Maybe fear.

Good.

Let him feel it.

Let them all.

“We need to reestablish order,” I say calmly, buttoning the cuffs of my white shirt. The linen clings to me, freshly pressed. Pure. Unblemished. “They need to see that the betrayal of one does not go unanswered.”

Reese doesn’t move. Doesn’t nod. Just watches me like I might come unhinged if he breathes wrong.

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