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With Visions of Red 3

Page 15

by Trisha Wolfe


  I was never so disillusioned. My captor relieved me of that deception. I knew all too well how easy it was to slip from one side of the spectrum to the other, all in the name of love. Feelings. Emotions.

  I was thankful to my captor for removing the burden of having to balance on that precise emotional edge of right and wrong.

  That’s why, I think, during those early years where I searched desperately for an answer to someone like me, I found a connection in Elizabeth Bathory. She, too, was created. She, too, had to have experienced some immeasurable suffering that cast her in the design of a monster. She, too, couldn’t help but seek out a source to funnel her pain.

  I believe she saw something of herself—something she envied or lost—in the girls she killed. Maybe she envied their carefree childhood. Maybe I identify with her there—my own having been stolen away. But ultimately, it’s not why I formed a bond with the Countess.

  Uncovering my own historic relation to Bathory sealed my resolve.

  Once I understood my lineage, I transformed myself into a stalker of stalkers. A killer of killers. I would not wait for the broken and devastated souls to come to me; I would seek out their tormenters and punish them for their life-destroying sins.

  Born or forged? With a bloodline linked to one of the most infamous serial killers of the millennia, does it matter? I could’ve just as easily been born defective.

  Only I wasn’t. I was created. Colton proved this to me, showing me that I can cure the raging demon within. That it’s not pain that feeds the beast; it’s the depth of our love that quiets it.

  Killing the thing I’m most terrified of becoming is no longer my calling. Though I’m sure there will be times when it’s the only answer, I can choose. I can determine who is worthy. I am not bound to deliver the monster’s bidding at its mercy.

  Connelly was not my first, nor will he be the last. But he’s somehow the one who called my reckoning. For that, I am humbled.

  So, is there a difference?

  “Yes,” I say with absolute certainty. “The difference between you and I is that I am distinct in my defect, by which I have a choice.” At his confused expression, I continue, “You can’t help the monster you are, Price. You have to snuff out the threat of innocence. It’s a cruel taunt every time you glimpse it. You will never know what it’s like to empathize. Me, however…I remember a time when I could. And I want—oh, I want badly—to feel it again.”

  A disgusted look crosses his face. “Well, that is a disappointment.”

  I tilt my head. “My apologies. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

  He shrugs. “You’re just confused. I should’ve done away with the bondage rigger years ago. He’s been a distraction that I didn’t anticipate. See, I thought I could use him. When I first came to you, you weren’t ready for me. So timid. So frightened of your own self. I knew I had to do something to tip the scales.” His gaze hardens. “I didn’t count on you fucking him.”

  The cool brush of steel graces my knee. I lift my chin. “We would’ve found each other regardless. You’re not fate’s master.”

  He laughs boldly. “Ah! But look at you now. How you’ve grown. Look at how strong you’ve become.” He licks his lips. “You’ve transformed before my eyes, beauty.”

  “That has nothing to do with you.” I let the affront of just who is responsible for my transformation go unsaid. But he knows.

  “So, this is our impasse?” he asks.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  The blade slips away again. “I won’t accept that. You got off with the man who tortured you. I read your psych evaluations. You were born, Sadie. Admit it. Your abductor uncovered your true nature. He didn’t design it.”

  I push my tumbler farther away, deciding this conversation has gone stale. He’s letting his anger slip. “An orgasm is a physiological response to physical stimuli. During rape, it’s referred to as an involuntary orgasm. For years—despite what my therapist said—I thought something was wrong with me. If you paid attention to the notes, then you already know that I struggled to become who I am, Price.”

  “Or struggled to accept what you already were.”

  Ignoring his baiting comment, I press on. “Colton is the one who helped me accept myself. I don’t have to hide who I am with him. No matter how I came to be, he’s my answer.”

  His eyes squint. “So you will accept the weakest explanation. I had higher hopes for you.”

  I drum my nails on the table. This needs to hurry along.

  “I understand why you chose Avery,” I say. “Not because you were worried about her discovery of the epithelial cells. No. You planted the evidence to incriminate Simon. You chose her because you had to teach me a lesson. But why Julian?”

  He gives me a calculating once over. “You would assume to hurt your dear Colton. But honestly, that was just fun. Blackmailing a blackmailer is always a good time.” He sneers. “Seems Julian had a thing for underage girls. It wasn’t too hard to pull his strings and get him to hide my presence in the club. That is, until he grew a conscience. But, once the jig was up, he was of no more use.”

  “You did the honors?”

  He chuckles. “No. That sloppy work, along with the lab technician, was all Simon. My eager-to-please apprentice. He was so young. So willing to learn. And so impulsive. Honestly, taking a trophy before you complete the kill? A tooth? How unoriginal. No wonder he suffered from premature ejaculation.” He shakes his head. “Alas, as dexterous as I am, I couldn’t possibly be everywhere at once. Really, that whipping boy was an unfortunate choice. A convenience that I found and recruited from Connelly’s forensic lab.” He takes a drink, clears his throat. “But unfortunate choice or not, Simon did come through in the end. I needed—we needed—a scapegoat, after all. So that we can start fresh.”

  The moment of truth. “Why me?”

  His eyes beam. “I have so much to learn from you, my love. I had wished to become your apprentice.” He exhales an excited, shaky breath. “There can be no greater thrill than to hunt a hunter.”

  I smile. “And I’ve truly enjoyed this hunt.”

  His features fall. “Yes. I suspect you’ve learned as much from me as I have from you. It’s terribly sad that it has to come to an end. I do wish you’d reconsider my offer.”

  “I’m satisfied where I am.”

  He sighs dramatically. “Well, disappointment aside, I do have a legacy to carry on.”

  “Then we’re done?”

  He chuckles. “Hardly. We’ve just begun.” Dark lust fills his eyes. “We should be leaving now.”

  “Why would I go anywhere with you?”

  “Because—” he sits forward and jabs the point of the blade into my thigh “—I have amassed a collection of evidence on not only your involvement with Connelly, but all your other dirty deeds you’ve committed over the course of your career.” He reaches into the inside pocket of his suit and flashes a USB drive before slipping it back in.

  “See, I’ve spent two years studying you, my love. And I came prepared. I was more than happy to let my apprentice take the fall for Connelly, my final gift to you, as it were—but only upon your agreement of my terms.”

  I shake my head resolutely. “I will never agree.”

  “Then, you either come with me, or this information finds its way into the hands of your department. I feel confident that you’d rather die than be seen as one of the serial killers you’ve spent your career hunting.” His smile stretches. “See? Preparation. It’s of utmost importance.”

  I nod.

  “Move slowly,” he says. “I’ve arranged a lovely homecoming for you. I was so looking forward to it being a celebration in the joining of our talents…but I was also prepared for an alternate ending. Oh, the ending. How I love a good story.”

  I allow him to lead me out of the bar. He keeps his weapon concealed under his sleeve, his arm stretched across the small of my back. But it’s unnecessary. Neither of us will give the other away.
r />   The music of the bar becomes a distant sound the farther we move through the city.

  Near the crosswalk, Price turns onto a vacant alley and braces his hand against a building.

  “Something wrong?” I ask.

  Wiping his brow with the sleeve of his suit, he turns toward me. “Probably just the excitement of tonight.” He attempts a smile, but it’s weak. I can see the tremble of his lips.

  “Are you sure about that?” I slink closer. “No sudden nausea. Chills. Clammy skin.”

  He coughs and struggles to suck in a breath. Then, on unsteady feet, staggers down the alley. I follow.

  “You should think twice before just taking what you want, Price.”

  He stops. Turns to stare at me, understanding lighting his eyes.

  “You can feel your lungs shutting down. The pressure on your chest mimics a heart attack…but it won’t be that quick. Or that merciful. You’ll appear as docile and calm as if you’re simply drifting off to sleep.”

  He drops to his knees, splays his fingers against the rain-puddled pavement. I crouch beside him. “But the whole time,” I continue. “You’ll be trapped inside your body. A hostage. Unable to move, to talk—the paralytic fear consuming you.”

  He wheezes in a tight breath. “What…?”

  “Saxitoxin,” I answer. “I slipped it into the SoCo. Popular in the sixties as a racy CIA chemical weapon, it was only ever theorized, never put to use. But as you can see, its effectiveness is undeniable.”

  He stretches out on his back, unconcerned with the Dumpster beside him, the runoff of rancid rainwater staining his suit. “It’s so cliché, beauty. Poison?” He coughs around a strained laugh. “You really are venomous.”

  “Cliché, yes. But you didn’t really give me the same courtesy to prepare your demise. I had to improvise.”

  “This is careless,” he accuses. “So unlike you. Where will you dispose of me?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that for a while.” I walk a circle around him. “But it wasn’t until you abducted Avery that the answer presented itself. You didn’t think ahead on that one.” I tsk. “A medical examiner? What if she escaped? Up until the end, you had it all worked out. Simon was supposed to kill Avery and go down for all the murders. All the evidence pointed to him, on his own boat. But what if Avery overpowered him?”

  “Impossible. I broke that bitch.”

  “But you didn’t count on us getting to her first.” I look down at him. “And here’s the kicker: what if once Avery was free, she became the lead M.E. processing your death?”

  His eyes widen, the horror of his oversight gripping him as quickly as the toxin.

  “For a woman ripe with vengeance—justified vengeance—a shellfish toxin is easily enough explained. I doubt anyone will question Avery’s COD report. Especially when your stomach contents will match the menu of the very bar where your credit card was last used.”

  He clutches his throat, trying to talk. I fill in the gaps for him.

  “Too bad you’ll be dead and unable to feel Avery slicing open your stomach…filling your bowels with evidence. But just try to picture the smile on her face. Just do it. I’m sure you can recall what she looked like before you stole it from her.”

  Sometimes, we can be mistaken. I discovered that, once Avery began her recovery, we could talk openly about our newfound connection. There may come a day when her healing journey leads her to a place of remorse for the man who tortured her—but until then, she’s bound to secrecy within our world.

  With a shaky hand, he beckons me near. One last indulgence, I suppose. I drop down beside him and draw close. “What did you say to him?” he asks, his voice a low rattle. “What did you say to Connelly…there at the end?”

  I lean in closer to his ear. “I’m the master.”

  Yes, I’m the master now. My mentor revealed the killer within—she may have forever lain dormant if not for him. But that was the trigger…my trigger. For years, the behaviorist in me tried to dissect it. One in eight abused become the abuser. That’s a fact.

  I’m the one.

  I’m the monster.

  Colton once said that I had something taken away from me—but that’s not entirely true. My abductor took, but he also gave me the cruel truth of my nature. He unleashed it. He was the catalyst.

  Only now, I’m strong enough to resist submitting to it.

  A faint smile brushes Price’s mouth. Then just as quickly, his eyes no longer see.

  I slip on a glove and lift the cuff of his suit. It’s a bit overzealous of Price, a bit obvious in his choice. The selection of a sword meant to impress me, but really, it’s just a sad extension of his impotent phallus.

  Still, the miniature flamberg will look good on my trophy shelf.

  * * *

  At the foot of my bed, I watch the rise and fall of Colton’s chest. The moonlight peeks through the slats in the blinds, casting shadows in the room. The alternating light and dark falls across his body, accentuating the dips and arches of his exquisite form.

  I push the shoulders of my dress down my arms and step out of my dress. Reaching behind my neck, I undo the clasp of the necklace and then place it and the USB drive in the drawer of my nightstand. Slipping between the cool sheets, I press up against the curve of his back. His body heat warms me instantly, and the harsh chill covering my skin subsides.

  I feel the shift in his breathing against my breasts. He stirs, shifting the covers over us as he turns to face me. His warm breath caresses the top of my head, and I tuck myself in the perfectly-designed-for-me nook between his chest and the bed.

  “You should’ve told me,” he says, the deep baritone of his voice a low boom in the too-quiet room.

  “You would’ve tried to make me stay,” I reply.

  “Fuck right.”

  “Or you would’ve tried to kill him yourself.”

  “Absolutely.”

  I tilt my head back, meeting his dark gaze. “Emotion can’t play a part, Colton. That leaves behind a traceable, messy trail.”

  His hand spreads against my back, the pads of his coarse fingers massaging the muscles along my spine. “Then why take the chance at all.”

  I release a slow breath. “Because I can’t leave him out there as a threat to my mother, or you. Or people I care about like Avery.”

  “Seems emotion played some part.” He roves down to my thigh, bringing my leg over his hip.

  I smile into his chest. “That’s the irony, I guess.”

  “How does my dark goddess unwind from a night of hunting?”

  Pushing up, I kiss him hard. With passion, and reverence, and the love unfurling within me more and more the longer we’re together. I pull back, just enough to whisper, “By commanding her sexy bondage rigger to bind her so tightly, nothing can ever break them apart.”

  He moves on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, as he reaches for the rope tied to the headboard. “Yes, goddess.”

  * * *

  Journal entries:

  When you dig deep into the bowels of evil, you cannot hope to reemerge unscathed, unaffected, unchanged—but rather you know without doubt that your character is as fragile and susceptible to fate as the changing tide is to the sea. It’s very little to do with choice. And everything to do with risk.

  To her darkness, she whispers. Of monsters and visions of red, of the terrors that claw up from her abyss. Monsters are forged, but heroes are born. To the light, she sings. Of fortitude and acceptance found only in his arms.

  Acceptance is peace. ~Sadie Bonds

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  Also by Trisha Wolfe

  (main links direct to Amazon)<
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  Living Heartwood Novels

  The Darkest Part: Living Heartwood (Book 1) -iTunes

  Losing Track: Living Heartwood (Book 2) -iTunes

  Fading Out: Living Heartwood (Book 3) -iTunes

  Bad Road: Living Heartwood (Book 4 coming soon)

  Dark Romantic Thriller Series: Broken Bonds

  With Visions of Red: Broken Bonds, Book One -iTunes

  With Visions of Red: Broken Bonds, Book Two -iTunes

  With Visions of Red: Broken Bonds, Book Three -iTunes

  Fantasy Novels:

  FREE Of Silver and Beasts: Goddess Wars (Book 1) -iTunes

  Of Darkness and Crowns: Goddess Wars (Book 2) -iTunes

  Kythan Guardians

  Destiny’s Fire: (Young Adult) A Kythan Guardians Novel -iTunes

  Astarte’s Wrath: A Kythan Guardians Novel

  Fireblood Series

  Fireblood: Fireblood (Book 1) -iTunes

  Unveiled: Fireblood Novella

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to:

  My amazingly talented critique partner and friend, P.T. Michelle, for reading so quickly, giving me the much needed pep talks and advice, wonderful notes, and for your friendship.

  My super human beta readers, who read on the fly and offer so much encouragement, I could not write books without your brilliance. Honestly, you are my girls! Katrina Tinnon, Naomi Hopkins, Amy Bosica, and Michell Casper. I really can’t express how much you mean to me—just know that I couldn’t do this without you. Thank you.

  A special shout out to the girls who keep me sane in the Wolfe Club, where it’s perfectly acceptable to be anything but ;) You girls are the best. You make me laugh, keep me motivated, and offer so much support, you have no idea. I adore every single one of you. And a special thank you to my girls in the group for helping me get this last book in shape! Thank you!

 

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