Page 69 of Shattered Stars
“That’s okay, little rabbit. I can like you enough for the both of us.” Her brow wrinkles. The pig scampers back over to us, grunting. I need to get to the point. “Lowsky wants you dead. He wants me to do it,” her brow furrows further, “if I don’t, he’ll find someone else who will. I don’t want to kill you and I don’t want anyone else killing you either.”
“Erm, thanks,” she says.
“You’re welcome.” Her scowl is so heavy now, she looks likeshewants to killme. My kind of foreplay. “I figured out a solution, though,” I say with pride in my chest. “I need to make himbelieveI killed you.”
“What?”
“I need to make him believe I killed you.”
“So go tell him you killed me. There’s no reason in hell for you to be here, talking to me.” She glares at her pig.
I shake my head. “No, Lowsky, he’s all fucking dramatic and damn suspicious. He’ll want proof.”
“Proof,” she says, her eyes returning to me and making the thing in my gut buzz. “What do you want? My little finger?”
I consider this. “Yeah, that would work.”
But I’m guessing that’s the wrong response, because her face goes all horrified and she takes a step away from me.
“You were joking,” I mutter.
“Yeah,” she says, examining my face. “How do I know you’re for real? How do I know you’re telling the truth? That this isn’t some … some … trap.”
Why’s she asking me that? If she thought this was a trap – if she really believed that – she’d have blasted me into lots of teeny tiny pieces by now.
“You want my little finger?” I ask, holding it up.
“No!” she says. “You’re fucking insane.”
I shrug. Like I haven’t heard that a million times before.
I take a step forward, and another and another. She watches me come, but she doesn’t shy away, she stands her ground like the stubborn little rabbit she is.
“Little rabbit, you know why I won’t hurt you – not unless you want me to – not unless you’re into that kind of thing – in which case–”
“How will you convince him you killed me?”
“I’m going to give him a heart. I’m going to tell him it’s yours.”
Disappointment floods her face. Like I failed her and I don’t like that at all.
“He’ll know it’s not mine.”
I shake my head, lifting my hand.
Her cheek looks so soft, like snowflakes. I bring my fingertips nearer, closer to her face. She’s very still. But it isn’t my magic keeping her rooted to the spot this time, it’s something else. She watches my face as my fingertips stray closer, closer. And then the pad of my fingers are touching her cheek. So much softer than I remembered. So much softer than my own. And flawless. No scars, no marks. Clear like marble.
“I can make him believe it’s yours. I know a way. But I need something from you, precious little rabbit. It’s why I had to come and see you, even though I know you don’t like it.”
“What?” she whispers, letting me trail my fingers down her cheek to the curve of her jaw. “What do you need?”
Her magic spins in the air around us and mine feels so dark in my veins it’s like a drug.
I lean in closer, inhaling that scent of hers and my fingers stray down to her throat. Her pulse leaps against my fingertips and I bring my mouth right up against the shell of her ear, her hair tickling my face.
“Your blood.”
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