With Visions of Red 3
Page 10
He clutched the shoe as she pushed him aside like a maggot; not even a full-fledged predator to be feared. She stood above him, soaked in blood, her stained skin glistening in the moonlight.
I was riveted.
Of course, I had the choice to stop it. She was taking away my mentor, my master, the man who took me under his wing and improved me. But I couldn’t stop watching. And, oh, how I loved to watch.
She transformed before my eyes, shedding her vibrant outer layer, a brilliant metamorphosis as she stripped of her cocoon and expanded her wings.
Those are the wings I craved.
I would forever long to be swept up into her guidance.
I knew, right then, that she wouldn’t run for help. She wouldn’t seek her phone, or radio in the attack. She didn’t walk through those bar doors with that ending in mind. I spotted it right away—what Connelly had missed: she’s a hunter.
While Connelly stalked her, she was drawing him into her web.
There was no victim in her.
I never touched myself through the whole scene. As my love looked down on her prey, fighting to staunch the bleeding, desperate to escape her claws, she swooped down and grabbed the knife.
She knelt in the mud—just as he had done to her—and whispered something into his ear. I craved so badly to know what it was. I would know. One day, I would find out.
And as she drew back, she let him see the blade coming for him. She moved purposely, methodically, savoring the fear in his eyes as she severed his carotid. One clean, perfect slice. No hesitation.
I came then. I came hard and furious, the release almost costing me my hiding place as I buried my mouth against the whore’s breast to muffle my cry. I groaned into her dead flesh, my whole body alive and pulsing.
Pure rapture.
I was no longer envy; I was ecstasy.
Ecstasy, I had tasted it. Desire, I had felt it. Obsession…I was obsession.
Obsession would rule me until I was strong enough to own this marvelous creature.
I shut my eyes, allowing the memory to entice me, anticipation quaking through my hands. We’re so close now. I uncurl my fingers from Avery’s hair and stroke the necklace chain.
She goes rigid in my lap. I don’t even have to say a word. After our last session, her fear for me is complete.
I twist the necklace until her skin puckers and I can feel her breaths through the vibration of the chain. The crest stands out against her soft flesh. I run my thumb over the white and red design, feeling bound to my love.
I plucked it from the muddy earth, wiped it clean. Cherished it as I delved into Sadie’s world to unlock her secrets. And now, it’s time to return it to its rightful place around her neck.
The moody trance is disturbed when a beep sounds from the corner.
I leave Avery in a curled pile on the blanket and pick up the phone.
Sadie: I got your message. If you want the Countess, then you have to meet on my terms. You know where. I’ll be there, waiting. Tonight.
A vicious shiver races over my skin.
Tonight.
12
Covet
Sadie
It’s impossible to measure the scope of any one person’s struggle. Or to judge them based on yours.
This case has impacted everyone working it on a personal level.
I watched silently and passively, feeling helpless, as Colton made the dreaded phone call to his parents about his brother’s death. According to him, he hadn’t spoken to them since before he fled his hometown. Now, his first communication with them in so many years is to deliver news that will forever leave them questioning why?
And though he may try to disguise the anguish he feels at having lost his brother, I know that it’s affecting him deeply. They never resolved their issues, never made their peace over the love they shared for one woman. Colton will bear that guilt in the way Colton handles everything: he’ll consume the pain, make it a part of himself. And I’ll be there—in the shadow of our world—to bear it with him.
Quinn is the toughest to uncover, with his thick skin and hard-boiled detective attitude. He comes across as unmovable as a steel beam, and just as dense. But even he’s been pushed beyond his breaking point, the fight inside him surfacing and cracking his tough exterior.
He’s a creaking branch bowing beneath the pressure of this case. Just as everyone is being changed, he won’t come out unscathed. He’ll have his own brand of scars, and he’ll use them to continue to fight the evil of this world. That’s who he is.
I look around from my safe and secluded spot in the conference room, regarding each member of the task force with the same discretion. There is no clear certainty to tonight’s ending. Every single member of this department will be tested and challenged.
Even Carson, with his superior demeanor will fall victim to the unknown. I think he will suffer that more than most; he doesn’t do well with what he doesn’t understand. It’s best if he remains in that dark, for his own survival.
As Quinn gives the final instructions to his task force, Agent Proctor readies his troop of Feds. The combined efforts of both our numbers covering The Lair will ensure the UNSUB doesn’t move unnoticed tonight.
“The Feds are all about staking out the club,” Quinn says, pulling up a chair beside mine. “Told you we could use them. And Proctor located that girl. Turns out, she’s not just a member, she’s a pro.”
I raise my eyebrows. “The UNSUB recruited a prostitute to wear a red wig and dress like me. Not sure how I feel about that.” My tone is rimmed with humor, but that’s only to disguise the disturbed feeling wiggling inside me. The very definition of irony is a pro pretending to be me, when I once played her part. A coincidence or convenience? Everything the UNSUB does is calculated.
When Colton was lured outside the club a few nights ago by a woman who he thought was me, then jumped by the unis staking out the club, at the time, I didn’t see the connection. I assumed Carson had set the trap. But when Colton mentioned her again, sitting at the table where I frequent, I decided it was time to find my doppelganger and put her to good use.
“She confirmed a man from the club paid her. Even gave her the dress and wig to wear,” Quinn says.
“No chance there’s trace on the dress,” I say, knowing the UNSUB made sure to leave no evidence of himself.
He sits back. “It would be just too easy if Locard’s principle applied to this case, wouldn’t it?”
I smile. “The exchange principle,” I say. “Every perp leaves something behind and takes something with him. You continue to surprise me, Quinn.”
He lets my compliment slide. “The dress is with the techs at the lab. But I’m more interested in her description of him.” Quinn presses his fingers to his brow, apparently working out a headache. “It matches Carmen’s description perfectly. The damn UNSUB has been there, this whole time, right in the open, and we never saw him. It feels like he’s not even trying to hide…and we’ve been letting him get away with it.”
I go to lay my hand on top of Quinn’s, then decide against it, and instead reach for my phone. “We’re not letting him get away with anything.” I tap my screen, opening the messages I’ve exchanged with the UNSUB.
We’re just a couple short hours away from initiating the UC operation, and I’m uncharacteristically calm. I’ve done this before, but never involving anyone else. I keep looking for a sign from the UNSUB that he’s backing out—but he’s been anticipating this moment for two years. He won’t disappoint me.
“Sadie?”
I look up. Colton is there, amid the commotion and preparation for the operation, my focal point to keep me grounded.
I turn to Quinn. “I’m going to get ready.”
He nods, and for a brief moment, it looks like he’s about to say something. But just as I won’t offer him comfort with a touch, he won’t unmask his feelings with words.
There’s still too many unresolved things between us before that c
an happen.
He looks away from me. “Make sure you check in for your final briefing before you set out.”
I smile inwardly. “I will.”
* * *
The hollow click of my key turning the lock echos throughout my apartment. I stand here, immobile, feeling the press of Colton’s intense presence against my back. He rests his hand over mine, his strong chest a solid embrace of comfort as he wraps an arm around my waist.
“You don’t have to do this,” he says, nuzzling into my neck.
I inhale his masculine scent; a mix of the club and something indefinably Colton. Sandalwood and cologne, and all male. It bolsters my resolve, and I turn the knob.
My apartment feels void and unlived in. The only time I’ve spent here recently was to rush in and out. The mood of high anxiety still lurks in the chilly air.
I set my keys and bag on the living room table, my gaze trailing Colton as he moves around the room. “Nothing’s changed for me. You can’t scare me away,” he says, his fingers roaming over my fireplace mantel. There are no pictures there. Just my obscenely embarrassing porcelain figurine collection.
“Not even with my creepy porcelain dolls?” I ask, trying to effect a light tone and failing miserably.
Colton gifts me with a faint smile anyway. “You like them because they’re fragile. Breakable. Beautiful. You like to protect them.”
I head toward my bedroom, saying as I pass, “I’m that transparent, huh?”
He reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me to a stop. “Only to me.”
Licking my lips, I stare into his pale blues. “That night in the club…I told you. I’m a monster. It’s the truth of me. I’ve never admitted that to anyone, Colton. What I shared with you today is who I am. Unlike you, I have never felt any mercy.”
Taking my hands in his, he laces our fingers together. “But you’re wrong, goddess. You felt mercy for the victims.”
I shake my head. “I felt retribution. It’s not the same.”
“We are the same.” His eyes bore into me, down to my marrow. “If you claim otherwise, then everything you demanded I believe last night is a lie. And I won’t let it be. Even if I was so desperate for your acceptance that I didn’t question why or how you could love a villain.”
“I meant it all. But now you see who the real villain is,” I say, my voice low, my soul fractured and just as desperate to hear Colton’s affirmation of me.
“If that’s so, then is it the only reason you’re with me? Because you believe your sin is greater than mine?”
The leaden truth of that question crushes me. “No… You know it’s more than that.”
“We’re bound together,” he says, bringing my body flush against his. “Whether that’s in sin or mercy, I don’t care to make the distinction. It’s just one more reason, one more undeniable proof, that you were designed for me.”
His lips find mine then. Tasting of solace and benevolence and unyielding consequence. Temptation to be lost—just leave behind all my pain and suffering, and the woman who clung so ruthlessly to it—bewitches me. I could truly let go.
I would never look back.
But a beep from my phone pulls me out of that fantasy. Breaking away from Colton’s firm embrace, I glimpse the screen, and I’m plunged right back into the icy waters of reality. As if I were ever able to escape.
An image of Avery wearing a tight, silky red dress flashes across the screen, followed by a text: A simple request, my love. See you soon.
I swallow the thick bile coating my throat walls. “He wants me to wear a red dress.”
Colton takes the phone, closes the message, and sets it atop the mantel. Anchoring his hands around my waist, he lifts me up until I’m forced to straddle his hips, my arms finding their home securely around his neck.
“If that’s his request,” he says, walking us into my bedroom, “then I have one of my own.” He kisses the column of my neck tenderly before he lays me down on the bed.
I rest my cheek against the cool comforter as I watch him open my closet door. “My dresses are all the way in the back,” I say, trying to force away the thoughts of what Avery must be suffering this minute. What is he doing to her in that dress?
Avery is beautiful and pure—and she was perfect. My world has become darker and darker since my abduction, and I hate that someone so full of light has now been tainted by that same evil. Despite what I tried to turn away from, every molecule in my body wants to kill the evil that has corrupted her world and turned it into mine.
Colton steps out of my closet with a satin red dress. It’s not exactly like the one I wore the night I stalked Connelly to that bar, but it’s a close enough match.
I clear my throat. “I should’ve seen if before now. His ritual to decorate his victims in dresses. How could I have missed the connection?” I close my eyes. “My profiling skills should really be called into question.”
The mattress dips under Colton’s weight. “I would argue that…if you hadn’t accused me of being a serial killer right off the rip.”
I attempt to stifle it, but a laugh escapes. “We’re completely twisted. The only two people who could find humor in any of this,” I say, linking my fingers around his.
He brings my hand up and places a soft kiss beside the band of rope. “Stop questioning us, goddess. And stop doubting yourself. As selfish as this may sound, I don’t regret anything that brought you into my world.”
I reach over and palm his face, loving the feel of his unshaven scruff. “What’s your request?” I ask, unable to restrain the rising desire unfurling within me. Before I go, before I risk everything…I need to feel Colton inside me once more. To know that I had finally found redemption.
Pressing into my palm, he turns his face to the side and catches my finger between his teeth. His tongue traces the tip before he releases me, sending a surge of yearning all the way down to my toes.
He pushes off the bed, stands at the base. Kneeling down to remove my shoes, he says, “The UNSUB wants one side of you; but I want it all. Who you were before, between, and now. You might have to dress the part for him…but I won’t let you slide on that dress with him in your mind. You’re mine, goddess. When you walk out that door, I want you to feel me—to know that I’ve touched and branded every part of you and that fucking dress.”
He leans over me, one hand supporting his weight on the bed, the other skillfully unbuttoning my jeans. My stomach dips with a flutter as he slips his hand beneath the band and pulls them down my thighs.
I arch my back as he tugs my jeans all the way off, discarding them to the floor, his intense gaze never leaving mine. The cool kiss of air slides over my skin, making me shiver, as he grasps the hem of my shirt and pushes it toward my head.
He pauses just as the material covers my eyes, and his hands anchor my wrists to the bed. “I am so very tempted to take you right now.” His whispered words graze my lips, then his mouth is on the swell of my breast, his tongue circling and tasting me.
A fierce ache blooms between my thighs. I lift my hips, making satisfying contact with the coarse jeans concealing his hardness. “Now,” I beg.
I feel his smile against my skin. “Not yet.”
The shirt clears my head, and Colton wastes little time removing the last articles of my clothing. The bra finds its place on the floor next to my underwear. I lay bare before him, the only item on my person the rope bracelet that claims me as his.
Only now, I can honestly say that every inch of my flesh belongs to him. And I bask in the knowledge that the man before me is mine. My gaze drags over his well-defined chest and chiseled stomach as he reaches behind his head and yanks off his shirt.
That one move slays me. I’ve seen him perform Shibari—his muscles gathering and flexing as he masterfully manipulates the rope, his body perfectly tuned to deliver pleasure. But here, right now, as he unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the loops, I swear, I’ve never seen him exude so much sex appeal.
He wraps his hand around his hard shaft and grips, sending a pleasurable quiver through me. “Stand up.”
It’s the first time I’ve been completely unbound with Colton—and yet, I’ve never felt more dominated. His deep voice wraps around me and commands my body to respond as if I’m tethered securely within his ropes.
“Place everything you’re wearing on the bed,” he says.
I move to my dresser, open the top drawer, and riffle through my lingerie. And understanding dawns: I’m no longer struggling to look the part for the UNSUB—I’m selecting items for Colton. This is for him.
I lay my choices atop the comforter, earning an approving grin from Colton. He takes his time, trailing his rough palms up my arms, across my back, along my hips. Touching every inch of me with sure, branding intent.
When he reaches my inner thigh, I close my eyes, knowing he’ll feel how wet I am. He grazes my lips, thrumming my body, the aftershock of his touch making me quake. Then, with a guttural command, he flattens his hand against my back and pushes me chest-down on the foot of the bed.
His mouth finds my hot center in the next beat, and I gasp in a sharp breath at the feel of his tongue tasting me. Gripping my thighs, he spreads my legs wide, giving him unfettered access. My belly tightens as he slips a finger inside me, sampling, teasing, making me crave more.
An impossible task, but he manages to slide one of my stockings onto my toes, then up my calf. The whole while, his talented tongue and mouth never leave me. The feel of his hands working and caressing the silken material onto my body has me trembling for release. He stops when the stocking reaches my thigh.