Darkest Sins (Perfectly Imperfect #9)

Another fit of giggling. “How good?”

“Five hundred. Maybe six. I haven’t checked my account balance in the last year or so.”

“There are certainly some nice houses for five hundred grand around here, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to downsize on the property.”

“Million, cub. Not thousand.” I nip her collarbone. “Offing people pays well. Offing people who are hard to kill pays even better.”

Nera seems to freeze beneath me. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that. I lift my head and meet her warm amber eyes.

“Do you enjoy doing it?” she whispers.

“Do you enjoy doing laundry?”

Her hand comes to my face, stroking my chin. “They are people. I’m sure some have deserved it, but not all. You must feel something when you end a person’s life. They have families. Friends. People who love them, who will be devastated by having them gone.”

And here we are. The moment I’ve been dreading. I could say that it bothers me, or that I think about the people I kill, but it wouldn’t be the truth. Friendship. Family. Those are just words for me that bear no meaning, like a foreign language I can hear but cannot comprehend.

“I don’t know, cub,” I say, then decide to risk it all and be honest. Even if it means she might not want to have anything to do with me afterward. “And I don’t care.”

She watches me in silence for a few moments, but, unlike I expected, there’s no disgust in her eyes. Just sadness.

“Who did this to you?” she asks, her voice barely audible.

“Made me into an unfeeling killing machine? Just life, Nera. There’s no one to blame.”

“You might be a killing machine, demon”—a sad smile forms on her lips as she reaches inside her nightstand drawer—“but you are not unfeeling. In fact, I think you feel too much and too strongly, and because of that, you found a way to suppress your emotions.”

“I’m afraid you’re wrong, cub.” Narrowing my eyes, I wonder why she has pulled out the small manicure scissors.

“Am I?” she asks. And then, she plunges the sharp tip of the scissors into the middle of her left palm.

“Jesus fuck!” I leap off the bed, staring at her hand as blood seeps from the wound. Grabbing the closest thing I can get my hands on, I remove the white pillowcase and, as carefully as I can, take her injured hand in mine. “Why did you do that? Fuck! Let go of the damn scissors.”

The entire tip is buried askew into her flesh, and, as soon as she pulls it out, the blood begins to gush from the puncture even faster. I press the bundled fabric to her palm and grasp behind her neck, pinning her with my gaze.

“What the fuck, cub?!” I didn’t mean to yell at her, but I’m fucking losing it over here. Seeing her hurt has shaken me to the core. I’m flabbergasted; my damn brain doesn’t want to accept the possibility of that ever happening.

“You said you don’t care about other people getting hurt.”

“You are not other people!” I lift the bloodied fabric to take a peek at her palm. There is still some bleeding, but it seems the cut isn’t as deep as I feared. “Does it hurt?”

“A little.” She cocks her head to the side. “Does it hurt you?”

“As if you plunged a fucking knife in my chest.”

“And yet, you said you don’t feel anything.” She presses her lips to mine.

“No more demonstrations like this one,” I say into her mouth. “You hear me?”

“Loud and clear. Now, can you please answer that? It’s been ringing for five minutes.”

The ringing of my phone somewhere in the apartment finally registers. I get up, then slide my arms under Nera’s body and carry her out of the room.

“Are both of us needed to answer your phone?” she asks as she threads her fingers through my hair. I still find it strange, to have someone touching it. But I like it.

“Both of us are needed to deal with the consequences of your insane experiment.” I set her on the kitchen counter and open the drawer on the left-hand side. “You moved the first aid kit.”

“It’s in the cupboard under the sink. I added more supplies to it and needed more room for the box. I wanted to be better prepared since you tend to get into confrontations with people in my neighborhood and come here bearing the most bizarre wounds.”