blade he’d slain so many other women with to end his cursed existence.
He didn’t move. And now I’d revealed my hand.
“Is your evil dressed up in righteous indignation?” he asked, taking a small step forward. “Do you walk that morally gray line of what’s ‘good’? If you thrust your blade in my heart, what lie will you tell yourself at night, what story will you spin, casting yourself as the hero?”
For a moment, my resolve faltered. I bit the inside of my cheek, regaining my senses. “By taking one life, how many others might be saved? How many have you murdered in this castle of horror alone?” I didn’t take my attention from him, but I motioned at the skeletons clattering around like a morbid audience. “One hundred? Two? How many more will you collect and kill and maim to satisfy your wretched hunger?”
He smiled. It was the sort of angelic look that convinced countless women to trust him, never remembering Lucifer had once been an angel, too. He prowled closer, yet was careful to stay out of reach. Here was one man who remembered my claws were also things to be feared.
My grip tightened on my found blade, which only seemed to delight him more. Thomas had been correct—he’d coveted me. He’d been savoring the idea of this encounter for months. He wanted to draw this out for as long as he could before his knives tasted my blood.
“You, my dear, may be more of a villain than I am. I accept my horns; I know the blackness in my soul. I was born with the devil in me. But so were you, Miss Wadsworth.”
“I do not believe in such nonsense as Heaven and Hell.”
“But you do fear your darkness.” I cringed and he smiled knowingly. “I recognized it in you the moment I first saw you. I wanted to help you, you know. Unleash the potential I knew was writhing in your soul. It was difficult, holding myself back.”
He was a cat batting a mouse around before it snapped its neck. I would not be toyed with. I lifted my blade, hand steady. “We’ve only just met in Chicago.”
“Have we?”
He shifted, his devil mask catching the light. Here, outside of the incinerator room, I saw it had been dusted with gold. It looked like metallic flames danced across his flesh. No matter how hard I tried, I could not contain the shiver that vibrated through me.
“Or did I first make your acquaintance in a London alley?” he asked. “For a moment, I was certain you’d seen me, lurking in the shadows we both love. You remember, don’t you? The finger of trepidation that slid down your spine, the shiver despite the summer heat.”
“You’re lying.” I glanced around the room, noticing a thick door I hadn’t spotted before, propped open on one side. It appeared to be a vault. It would take maneuvering, but if I could lead him to it, it might be even better to lock him in there than in the incinerating room. I’d have to weave through the hanging skeletons, though. I took a careful step back, my shoulder brushing into someone’s limb, and hoped he’d mirror my action.
He prowled in the opposite direction, stepping between the row of skeletons farthest from me. I’d not succeed in tricking him into a corner. He was an unsparing predator—a murderer with untold skill. If I was to beat him, I’d need to be more cunning, more ruthless.
I’d need to become bait before I raked my claws over his throat.
“I wanted to follow you home that night. Your brother…” He shrugged. “Let’s just say he wasn’t keen on the idea of you and I meeting. That’s why he sent you home with that annoying companion of his.” A smile flickered across his lips. “I don’t believe he ever fully trusted me. Wise of him. I hardly trust myself. I have these urges, you see. They’re like feral creatures. Do you know what it’s like, having something wild and untamed writhe about within you? To hunger for things that other men tremble from?”
His hands fisted at his sides as if he were fighting off the unholy transformation this very moment. I swallowed hard, my sense of flight taking over. If I did not strike out at him, I would not leave this murder castle alive.
“I yearn for blood the way most men yearn for wine and women. When I lie down at night, I imagine the ecstasy of witnessing