Taming Seraphine

SERAPHINE

Leroi has barely said a word to me since he lifted me out of the bath and dried every inch of my body with fluffy towels. Then we returned to the interrogation room to switch off the sprinkler, and Leroi dragged Paolo’s corpse to a disposal chute without explaining what would happen next.

I lean against the car door watching his profile, my mind replaying our conversation, trying to figure out the reason for this prolonged silence. It’s impossible to pinpoint the part that disturbed him the most. Maybe it was when I took advantage of the afterglow and asked to sleep in his bed?

“Leroi?” I murmur.

The corners of his lips tighten. “What?”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Of course not.” His voice is harsh and betrays his words.

“Then is this about what I did to Paolo?”

He gives his head a tight shake.

My heart sinks. At this rate, I’ll never get an answer. I pull my gaze away from Leroi and stare out into the darkened highway.

Sex with Leroi was the single most pleasurable experience of my entire existence. Climaxing with him inside me was ten times more intense than his fingers, tongue, or the hilt of a dagger. It was like connecting with another human being and looking into their soul. He was no longer only a mysterious stranger I was desperate to conquer, he was my other half that wanted me as much as I wanted him.

We connected at a level deeper than anything I’ve ever known, looked into each other’s eyes and saw compatible spirits. Time stood still when he was fucking me hard and fast. I had no traumatic past, no uncertain future, no hunger for blood or revenge. He placed me completely in the moment. He had been my pleasure, my solace, my peace.

And the reverent way he washed the blood off every inch of my skin afterward melted my heart. I rested against his chest, trusting him without reservations until he started with the questions.

Swallowing hard, I steal a glance at Leroi as we continue to the end of the hallway. A muscle in his jaw clenches as though he can’t stand the feel of my stare.

I would ask him what’s wrong again, but he’d never reveal his innermost thoughts.

The rest of the journey home is just as quiet, with Leroi giving me one-word answers. Maybe he’s already having second thoughts.

He unlocks his door and lets me inside without a word, then tosses the bag he brought to one side and turns toward me, looking like he’s about to announce that sex was a mistake.

Before he even gets the chance to say the words, I hurry across the living room and open my door.

“Seraphine?”

I let it swing shut and lean against the wood, using my body as a barricade.

A few moments later, Leroi knocks. It’s a gentle tap on the wood that vibrates against my back and not the fist pounding I expected.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“Go away,” I say.

He hesitates.

My breath catches. I want him to force the door open, pick me off the floor and demand answers, but that would assume he even wants me to stay.

I bend my neck and rest my head on my bent knees, my heart thudding with trepidation. Any minute now, he’ll explain that what we did together was a mistake and that it must never happen again.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he releases a long sigh, and his footsteps retreat toward his bedroom. When his door opens and shuts, I close my eyes and let out my own breath of relief.

I took advantage of Leroi and made him break his rule about having sex, and now he regrets it. There’s no crew on standby to clean up this mess. Somehow, I need to figure out a way to make this right.

Hours later, when the first rays of light dance across my eyelids, I rise off the floor and take a hot shower to soothe my aching muscles. It isn’t the first time I’ve spent the night on a floor, but I’ve never slept sitting up with my back against a solid surface.

I cast a wistful glance at Leroi’s door as I cross the living room and enter the kitchen, only to find the block of chef’s knives on the counter.

My stomach drops.

Does this mean he doesn’t expect me to stay? I shake off that thought. It’s time to think positive. Maybe this is a test, and he’s waiting for me in his bedroom with a gun beneath his pillow.

He probably expects me to sneak into his room and try to slice his throat.

But he’d be wrong.

I’ll prove to Leroi that I can use kitchen knives for their intended purpose. Then he’ll see that I’m no longer the disturbed girl he pulled out of that basement and that I’ve changed into a woman worthy of his love.

Then he’ll think again about sending me away.

When I open the refrigerator, it’s full of phallic shaped vegetables and nine-inch salamis. Ignoring the obvious trap, I grab an onion and slice it into thin pieces, then do the same with a bell pepper, tomatoes, mushrooms, herbs, and bacon. Leroi likes high-protein breakfasts, so I’ll make us a frittata.

After beating the eggs and mixing them with herbs and spices, I pour it into an oven dish, add the chopped ingredients, and make a start on the coffee.

As the frittata cooks, and the kitchen fills with delicious aromas, the door opens. I step away from the knives and walk to the coffeemaker, my heart pounding.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Leroi says from behind. “I thought you only chopped.”

I turn around, my features schooled into a mask of indifference. “Our cook taught me how to make a few dishes.”

He crosses the tiled floor and pulls me into a hug. “What happened last night?”

My heart skips several beats. He missed me? Closing my eyes, I lean against this hard chest and savor his embrace. Had I misinterpreted his silence? I inhale his sandalwood scent. He wants me now, so does what happened last night even matter?

Yes, it does, because he’s blowing hot and cold.

I draw out of the hug to look him full in the face. “You went silent. You either got what you wanted and no longer needed me, or decided you’d made another mistake. So, I left you alone.”

He winces. “I was… processing.”

“Processing what? The sex?”

“Not that.” He glances away. “I couldn’t get certain aspects of your story out of my mind.”

My eyes narrow. Nothing about my past should be news to Leroi. He’s seen first-hand that I kill and castrate men, yet the only thing he ever complained about was the mess and something about getting caught.

“Which parts?” I ask. “It’s not like didn’t tell you anything you didn’t already suspect.”

“You’re right,” he rasps. “I’m sorry. I won’t shut you out like that again.”

My eyes narrow. His apology is genuine enough, but his actions don’t match his words.

Leroi cups the side of my face, bringing my attention back to him.

“I mean it,” he murmurs. “From this moment, I will include you in everything.”

Just as I’m about to answer, the doorbell rings.

Leroi’s face hardens. “Someone’s here.”

I give him a blank look.

“All my allies know to call first or use a specific knock.”

My eyes widen. “Oh.”

The doorbell rings again, only this time more insistently.

Leroi’s gaze darts to the block of knives, and he pulls out a gun. “Arm yourself and hide in a blind spot. Whatever you do, don’t leave this kitchen.”