Taming Seraphine

SERAPHINE

My head pounds when I wake up in the strange room, but what’s stranger is the freedom of movement around my naked neck. I’m free of the collar, but the situation I’ve landed in might be even worse.

My body still feels weighed down from the sedative, and it takes every effort to drag myself off the bed. I need to get out now and find Gabriel. He’s out there somewhere, clinging to life now that the people who were holding him hostage are dead.

I creep through a bedroom of parquet floors and pale gray walls—a vast upgrade from the basement I was kept in for five years. It’s lit by filtered sunlight, telling me that only hours must have passed since we left Dad’s house.

Leroi, the man who took me, is an assassin. A professional one. Not someone coerced to kill targets with a knife or a poisoned hairpin. He has weapons, explosives, a getaway driver, and a physician who can extract chips.

With as much stealth as I can muster through my wooziness, I step out into an open-plan living room of whitewashed brick walls with enough leather sofas to seat a small army. A long dining table takes up the left side of the space, but there’s no sign of a kitchen. Something tells me that’s not the only place he keeps his knives, but I’m not about to return to the room with all those guns.

Ignoring the floor-to-ceiling windows that provide a hair-raising view of Beaumont city, I ease open the nearest door. At the first sight of the man sleeping in a four-poster bed, my heart jumps to the back of my throat.

After seeing all those guns on the wall, I thought this was some kind of facility, but this is his home.

White bedsheets pool around his waist, exposing sculpted pectoral muscles and defined abs. His chest rises and falls with each light snore, and the effect is hypnotic.

Leroi would make the perfect prey. There’s no thick growth of hair obscuring his anatomy, no greasy layers of fat. He’s textbook perfection, a killer’s dream.

I force myself to look away. The twins aren’t holding me hostage anymore and I don’t even know if Leroi wants to put me to work, or if he has other motives.

Easing the door shut, I move to the next room, until I find the kitchen.

Bright light bounces off pristine white cabinets, creating a glare so intense that I have to squint. I rush past the breakfast bar and move to where a knife block sits beside a stainless steel stove. I pull on each handle and examine the implements until I find a boning knife.

Its blade is long and thin and flexible, with a tip sharp enough to slice through ligaments and glide through the ribs to reach the heart. After checking through the other blades, I open the drawers and extract a steak knife, which is small enough to conceal in my pocket.

I should search through the apartment for cards, cash, a phone—anything that could help me find Gabriel, but I don’t want to risk waking Leroi. Waking up with only a pounding in my head tells me he isn’t the type of predator who thinks with his dick. Though I don’t doubt he’s the type who would hunt me down in a second if I stole anything valuable.

When I reach the front door, it’s locked, with no sign of keys—not even for the balcony.

Clenching my teeth, I sneak back into the gray bedroom, slip the knives under my pillow, and curl up into a ball.

Leroi can’t keep me here forever. Eventually, he’ll let me out, and I’ll use that opening to find my brother. If he doesn’t, I’ll kill him in his sleep and pick through his handsome corpse.

The next time I wake up, sunlight sears through my eyelids. I can’t block out the glare, even when I squint.

On the bedside table is a tray filled with bottled water and nearly a week’s worth of rations. I reach for a cracker and slip it into my mouth. The cheesy flavor is a welcome distraction from the bitterness that coats my tongue.

A soft knock on the door has my hand reaching for the steak knife. Heartbeats later, Leroi strolls in, holding two steaming mugs.

My throat tightens under his appraising glare. His eyes are so dark, and his mouth so sharp that he makes me feel like prey.

“Do you drink coffee?” he asks.

I stare up into his eyes, searching for clues behind his expressionless features. He seemed okay yesterday. Maybe a little impatient, but decent. It’s hard to tell with men. One minute, they’re nice and the next, they’re feral hounds barking to be euthanized.

When the corners of his eyes narrow, I realize he asked a question. Mom never let me drink coffee, saying I was too young. I was too young for a lot of things when she was alive, but that was a lifetime ago.

Leroi steps toward the bed with the mug, and my muscles tense, ready to lunge with the blade if he throws the hot liquid. Instead, he places the coffee on the bedside table before backing away.

“It’s there if you want it.”

I nod.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, his voice deceptively soft.

My jaw tightens, and I don’t answer. I’m not about to reveal any vulnerability. This might be a trick.

“Do you have a family I can contact?”

Nanna is dead. So is Mom. Leroi killed Dad. Not that I’m mourning the bastard; he handed me over to the twins and never once looked back.

“My brother,” I rasp. “His name is Gabriel.”

He exhales a long breath. “The man on the screen?”

I nod.

“Do you know who’s holding him?”

“Gregor and Samson Capello.”

His lips tighten. “They’re dead. Did they have any associates who knew about your brother?”

I gulp. “Maybe their driver?”

“His name?”

“They called him Pietro,” I whisper.

“That’s a start.” Leroi rolls up his sleeves. “Leave it with me. I’ll put out some feelers and see if we can track him down.”

My breath catches.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I need you to stay somewhere else tonight. A few associates are coming over to play poker. You don’t want to be in the same space as them. They’re dangerous.”

My breath catches. My heart skips several beats. Is this where he hands me over to another man and I become his prisoner?

“No.” I shake my head.

His brow furrows. “It won’t be safe here.”

“I’m not leaving,” I say, my voice rising several octaves. “I can take care of myself.”

He studies me for what feels like an eternity. Weighing his options, as if I’m an injured bird trying to fly on broken wings—does he offer aid or does he put me down? I’m not helpless, but I can’t reveal my skills without putting myself in danger. Straightening, I hold his gaze until he nods.

“Lock the door tonight and don’t open it until tomorrow. Is that understood?”

I nod, my lungs deflating with relief.

As Leroi walks to the door, the words slip out before I can stop them.

“Wait.”

He pauses, staring at me from the corner of his eye.

“Why are you helping me?” I ask, my voice hoarse. “What do you want in return?”

His expression softens. “No one should have to suffer what you’ve been through. Especially not a kid.”

My shoulders droop as he leaves the room, taking with him some of my peace of mind. Five years ago, I was sixteen and my biggest problem was failing my driving test. I had friends, a mother and father, and an older brother who was about to go to college. Now, all traces of that life are gone. The last vestiges of my childhood were corrupted by blood.

I don’t believe Leroi wants to help me out of the goodness of his heart because I’m young. Every sick bastard I killed thought my baby face and small stature made me easy prey. He might even want to use me as an assassin. If he plans to use Gabriel as leverage, I’ll just have to strike out at him first.

Leroi wasn’t joking about the men being dangerous. At some point in the evening, I woke to the smell of cannabis fumes and raucous laughter. When I peeked out through the door, there were over eight men sitting around the dining table playing cards.

I’d gone back to sleep with a stomachache from overeating, but now I’m wide awake. My head no longer hurts, and the pounding between my ears has dulled to a roar. A large hand roams beneath my sweatshirt, and calloused fingers close around my nipple.

Disgust clogs my gorge. My jaw clenches, but my training commands me to remain perfectly still. I must have forgotten to lock the door when I spied on them earlier. The groper’s hand travels down my jogging pants to my crotch.

“You like that?” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. It stinks of tobacco and stale alcohol.

Images surface from the dredges of my memory. I’m crouched at a door, helpless and cowering, while a crowd of men⁠—

No.

Fury surges, filling my mind’s eye with a haze of blood. I can’t be disappointed in Leroi because I’ve been in these situations more times than I can count. He’s just the same as the rest of them, and he’ll suffer the same fate.

“You’re a pretty little thing,” he whispers.

My fingers close in around the steak knife.

The blunt tip of his penis presses against my lips, making my eyes snap open.

It’s not Leroi. The man grinning down at me and holding his shaft is shorter, paler, fatter, with bloodshot eyes. Years ago, a situation like this would have thrown me into a flurry of panic.

But not now.

Anticipation wraps around my throat like a garrote, choking off my air. Now, I’m holding my breath, waiting for the right moment to spill blood.

Fuck the steak knife. I’m about to need something sharper.

“Mmmmm,” I make a pleased sound in the back of my throat.

“You want it, baby?” he rasps.

I gaze up at him, bat my eyelashes and nod.

His eyes shine with lust. “Then take it.”

Not taking my gaze off his, I wrap my fingers around his shaft. The man hisses through his teeth, his barrel chest rising and falling.

“That’s it, baby. Now, take it all.”

He doesn’t need to ask twice.

I bring the boning knife up from beneath the pillow and slice through his dick. He screams, blood spurting on my face like a geyser.

He staggers back, his hands cupping his crotch. “You fucking bitch!”

That bastard doesn’t know half of it. Slipping his penis in my pocket, I rush at him with the knife. He skids on his blood and lands on his ass.

“Get away from me.” He raises a palm, trying to fend me off, but I dart around to his side and slice his throat.

The man gasps, his eyes wide, his hand clutching at the gash in his neck. Blood spills through his fingers and onto his shirt, forming pretty blooms of crimson.

I stand over him, my chest heaving, and watch the life fade from his eyes. The dull roar between my ears settles into a steady beat, and I can finally exhale.

“What…” he croaks as though confused about how he’s ended up dickless.

“You told me to take it all,” I say, absorbing every flicker of pain, every anguished breath. “And I liked it very much.”

“Psycho… Bitch.”

My lips curl into a smile.

An agonizing death is the only thing I enjoy about being in the company of a man. However, as with most of his kind, he’s left me unsatisfied. I step through the puddle of his blood and out of the room, needing to see more blood. Craving it.

That’s when I spot Leroi sleeping on an armchair with his throat exposed.