refuse to believe that she ever truly loved that prick.
Honestly, I’m as surprised as you are that I haven’t murdered him yet. One little slip of my hand…
William has a microphone in one hand and a guitar in the other, and he clears his throat, waiting until someone turns down the music.
“Hi,” he says with a bright grin, one that shows his stupidly perfect white teeth that I’m already envisioning painted with red. He begins to fiddle with the knobs on his guitar as his eyes roam over the room before stopping on Katrina.
My Katrina.
Oh yeah. This fucker’s dead.
I haven’t even realized I started singing “It’s Raining Men” again until Katrina nudges me in the stomach.
“In Mrs. Simson’s psychology class, we talked about taking risks. About putting ourselves out there,” he begins, and a few of the runts laugh softly, no doubt knowing what he’s babbling on about. “So I’m going to take the biggest risk yet.”
He locks his eyes on Katrina, as if the rest of the world doesn’t matter. As if she’s the only one he fucking sees.
“Katrina,” he begins huskily as one of his followers hurries forward with a mic stand. He clasps the microphone inside of it and begins to strum on his guitar. “I’m in love with you.”
Gasps resonate throughout the room, none more louder than Katrina’s. Her eyes are saucers in her face as she blinks rapidly.
Zolroth, beside our girl, exchanges a dark look with me over her head. Because fuck this shit.
“He can fucking sing,” Zolroth mutters under his breath. “What else can this bloody asswipe do?”
Katrina shakes her head slightly. “No,” she whispers. “He tried to sing in the talent show last year, and…well… He’s lucky he’s cute.”
Cute?!?
She thinks he’s fucking cute?!?
I take a step closer, prepared to stick my claws into his neck, but Zolroth moves with an almost blistering speed and grabs the collar of my shirt. He gives me a barely decipherable shake of his head, mouthing, “Later.”
I know that I can’t very well start murdering high schoolers in view of their classmates, but fuck restraint. Seriously, fuck it.
I’m an unapologetic, sadistic asshole, and I don’t have any plans to change it soon. Fortunately for us all, Katrina seems to like my brand of crazy.
William, maintaining eye contact with Katrina, begins to sing, and I swear I even get a hard-on from his voice. It’s fucking magic.
“I thought you said he couldn’t sing,” Zolroth snipes tersely.
Katrina’s still staring at William, her mouth agape. “He can’t. Couldn’t. I swear.”
Every girl in the general vicinity swoons as he sings some sappy love song about wandering for hours in the dark and then stumbling upon a bright light.
Fuck.
This.
Shit.
“I’m going to kill him,” I whisper, low enough so Katrina can’t hear me.
Zolroth gives me a dark look, one that shows me that he’s barely keeping it together himself. “You can’t. There are witnesses.”
“I’m going to rip his heart out and then shove it up his ass—”
“You can’t,” he stresses again.
But what the fuck else can I do when douchebag extraordinaire is singing a romantic song to the love of my existence?
Zolroth’s right—I can’t just lunge forward and murder him right here and now.
Sigh.
Fortunately for me, and unfortunately for him, I have nothing going on tomorrow besides planning a teeny, tiny, itty bitty little murder.
18
Katrina
I might just go dig a hole in the backyard next to the doghouse I can see through the window, crawl into it, and die a painful death caused by the stabbing pains of embarrassment I feel right now.
What the fuck, William? Really?
I can feel the fury radiating off of my demons like it’s heat, and maybe it is. Maybe it’s the fires of Hell or something. I don’t know.
What I do know is now I have to publicly turn William down like some crazy bitch, while trying not to seem rude, and attempt to prevent the murderous glares of my demons from turning into murderous strangling.
I smack both hands over my burning face, covering my eyes because I just need a moment. A moment to gather myself—
But I hear footsteps start beside me, and I have to pull my hands down and dart forward in order to yank Akor back.
“No, baby,” I whisper, going up on my tiptoes and planting a kiss on his neck. “I’ve got this.” Like fuck if I’ve got a handle on this, but better me than Akor.
My demon’s eyes are wild, and I can see they’re lined with red streaks. I gently pet his