Hunting Adeline (Part 5)

PART-5-uuok-2026-02-28_10_23_50-hunting-adeline.pdf

My mouth salivates when I recall the burn from him stretching me and how he'd have to work himself inside of me. Fuck, it's just like being addicted to the pain of getting a tattoo. Every bite of the needle you want to run away, but you stay because the outcome is pure fucking bliss.

Giving me a loaded look, he walks to the dresser and digs something out of the drawer. Jesus, his backside is almost as mouth-watering as the front. My lungs close, and I'm no longer breathing.

The sound of metal is what finally pulls my attention away from his body. He's advancing toward me, holding black handcuffs, and the sight sends my heart skipping like a rock across the surface of a lake.

I take a big step back. Most men would pause when they see hesitation, but Zade doesn't falter as he approaches me.

"What are you doing with those?" I ask, alarm building in my chest.

"Don't worry, baby, these are for me."

Meeting his stare, I'm instantly soothed. A range of emotions swirl in his black and white pools. Desire, love, and wicked intent. But he's so damn calm, and that's what makes me feel calm.

Furrowing my brow, I watch him hold out the handcuffs and key to me, but I don't take them yet.

"What are you planning?" I ask, looking up at him.

"Didn't I tell you before that you don't need a cop to get me in handcuffs? I said I'd let you do anything you want to me, and that's what I'm doing."

I'm not sure why I'm so surprised to hear that. He's made it clear I hold the power but seeing him physically hand it to me is still jarring.

Licking my lips, I hesitantly grab them and place the key on the nightstand. The second I do, he turns around once more, showing me the massive octopus tattooed across his back, the tentacles unfurling up to his shoulders and neck.

Some nights, I trace each line while he sleeps, familiarizing myself with the feel of his skin when he's not demanding it of me.

Just like those late nights, I brush my fingers over the fine details in the octopus, marveling over the talent that went into this piece.

The muscles in his back ripple from my touch, and I can't help but feel invigorated by the effect I have on him.

Enjoying his reaction, I tease him. Trailing the pads of my fingers lightly down his back, his arms, and to his hands. Goosebumps rise on his skin, and I bite back a smile. I don't think I've ever seen this man get something as trivial as goosebumps. It's a normal human reaction, but when has Zade ever acted like anything less than a deity?

I tighten the handcuffs around his wrists, inhaling sharply when he turns again and stands before me. Persephone imprisoning Hades-it's too sweet not to salivate over.

"You'll let me do anything I want to you?" I reiterate, hesitant to believe it. Seeing him so ... defenseless-my brain can't quite process it.

His eyes darken, and his grin slips. "You've always been an atheist to my word. You're incapable of believing in something you can't see and lack faith because you're blind to what's right in front of you. I'm yours to command-I always have been. You just need to see it to finally believe it."

Clearing my throat, I whisper, "Sit on the bed."

Without hesitation, he steps back and slowly sits down, keeping his legs spread. My eyes gravitate between them again, and my heart flutters like a hummingbird's wings, equally transfixed and intimidated.

Forcing myself to focus, I grip the bottom of my nightie and pull it over my head, keeping my pace slow and torturous. Zade hums his approval deep in his chest, and it gives me a boost of courage. Enough to slip my panties down my thighs and step out of them.

There's never a sexy way to do it, but the way Zade's eyes hungrily eat up my body, it feels like I just performed a highly skilled trick on a stripper pole. In reality, I'd break my neck attempting that.

"Get on the bed and kneel," I tell him, tipping my chin up to direct him. He grins but does as I say, climbing on the bed with a panther's grace. He sits back on his heels with his knees spread, and more than anything, I want to take a picture of him so I can look back at it when we're old and gray and neither of us are even capable of sex anymore.

Strips of moonlight and the soft glow from the sconces accentuate the hard planes of his chest and abs, highlighting each muscle straining against his skin.

Only the devil can wield the shadows around his body with such divinity. A devil and a God-two opposing forces that make up one contradicting being.

Licking my lips with anticipation, I crawl onto the bed and then onto his lap, keeping my pussy suspended over the tip of his cock.

His lips whisper up the column of my neck, and I put my hands on his shoulders to not only balance myself but to keep him controlled.

My core throbs when a deep rumble vibrates throughout my hands, building as I deliberately brush my hardened nipples against his face. Right when he goes to bite down, I pull away, increasing the tremors shaking his body.

His head tips back until our eyes clash. I shiver from the uncaged lust spearing from his gaze. He looks at me like he's only biding his time. Doing my bidding for now until the second I unlock those handcuffs.

In the blink of an eye, he'll snap, striking like a viper. My throat in his hands and my heart between his teeth.

I feel the fear pulsating in my clit, heightening my heart rate to dangerous levels.

"You think you're broken now, Adeline? Wait until you free me from these confines," he threatens, the deep timbre of his voice lined with sharp glass. "I'll fuck you until every single one of your bones breaks beneath me. Helpless little mouse, for me to mold and manipulate."

He's deliberately trying to scare me, knowing how much my body sings for the terror he instills in me.

Instinctively, I want to run from his terrifying promises and the creeping trepidation that he's going to do just that. I also want to challenge him so he can make good on them.

My heart thrashes against my rib cage, but I don't break his stare. Biting my lip, I reach between us and grab ahold of his length, delighting in the way his top lip curls into a snarl.

And then, ever so slowly, I slide the tip along my slit, wetting him before lowering myself increment by minuscule increment, until there's no discerning which of us is trembling.

I lean forward and wrap my arms around his neck, molding my soft curves into his harsh lines, and slowly work him inside me. It feels just as I remembered-the burning as he stretched me wide, but the insatiable bliss that accompanies it.

My demons are tickling the back of my brain, begging to be let in to wreak havoc on my sanity. Drag me from this precious moment where I

reclaim something that was stolen from me. So, I focus every ounce of my attention on the man beneath me.

His thinning breath, the building earthquake racking his body, and the veins pulsing in his neck as he fights to keep still.

I nudge my lips against the shell of his ear, that heady sense of power arising up through my throat and off my tongue.

"Do you want to see how easily I can break you?" I murmur coyly.

He grunts as I drop lower again, more than half of his cock buried inside me. It feels like too much and not enough. It's never enough. Even when I'm filled to the brim, I want more.

I don't wait for him to answer, nerves eating me alive even though this feels right. So fucking right.

"I love you, Zade. Sometimes I can't fucking stand it," I say, my voice raspy and uneven. "But it was the only thing that kept me alive. You saved me. Even when we were apart, you saved me. And I hope to God you never stop hunting me."

His head rolls back, eyes to the ceiling, and he stills beneath me, as solid as the stone walls in Parsons Manor.

"Let me go, Adeline," he says tightly. I hardly recognize his voice.

I sink the rest of the way down, seating myself completely on his length. The stone cracks, and his chest ripples with a sharp inhale.

"Let me fucking go," he bites out again. I shake my head, though he's not looking at me. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows.

I know what he's asking. Release the handcuffs. He could get out of them if he wanted to. And the fact that he's waiting until I do it myself speaks volumes.

I have a strong feeling that despite what Zade thinks, he's had more control than he gives himself credit for. But the second the metal falls from his wrists, it will dissipate. Now that I've given him everything, I will experience Zade truly at his most unhinged.

There was never a question that he would strike the moment they were off, but now he's a starved animal with fresh meat right outside its cage.

"I'm not going to do that."

Fuck it, I might as well take advantage while I'm still in one piece.

My mouth parts as I rock against him, allowing my eyes to drift and my head to tip back as euphoria builds where we're connected.

Low, uneven moans fill the air, so lost in riding his cock and how good it feels to use his body for my own pleasure that when his hot breath fans across my neck, it feels like waking up from a fever dream and not remembering where I am.

"I hope you enjoy this, baby," he rumbles into my ear. "I hope you revel in the feeling of your pretty cunt intact and your skin pristine."

My breath hitches, his tone darker than a black hole swallowing up the stars in the sky. No light escapes-not in them, nor in Zade.

I grind against him harder, gritting my teeth as his biting words eat at my bravery. Sweat coats both of our bodies for entirely different reasons. It takes effort to contain his beast, while mine is loose and out of control.

"You don't scare me," I lie, shivering when I roll my hips just right, the tip of his cock hitting that perfect spot.

"Shame," he murmurs, nipping at the sensitive flesh in the juncture of my collarbone, making my body quake once more. "I love it when you're a scared little mouse, thrashing beneath my paw and desperate to get away."

"Does it make you feel powerful?" I ask through gritted teeth, repeating a question he asked me not too long ago. An orgasm is building low in my belly, shredding my control as my movements become choppy.

"Of course, it does," he murmurs, his deep voice dark and wicked, our moans entwining when I roll my hips. "When you're in the palm of my hands, it's the only time I feel like this world is worth saving."

Panting, I rock faster, chasing the orgasm just within my reach.

"You like to use my cock to make you come, don't you, baby? Remember that whenever you think you don't need me. Nothing will make your little pussy feel better than I can. And look, I don't even have to fucking try."

My vision blurs, and I reach down between us, thrumming my clit while slamming down on his cock just right until I finally reach that pinnacle.

It feels like my soul is ripped to shreds in a matter of seconds. A scream tears from my throat, even though I can't hear it. Not when different pieces of my being are scattered in hundreds of thousands of different dimensions.

There's no sense of time or space, just colors and a feeling of completion. Like I was put together wrong before, and now that I've shattered, those pieces were stitched back together the correct way.

It's fucking addicting, and by the time I come down, Parsons Manor reappearing, I want to go back. Wherever I went, I want to go back.

Zade's chin is tucked low, seeming defeated in a way. It unnerves me so much that I twist at the hips and grab the key lying on the nightstand. Right when I go to lift off of him, he lifts his head just an inch.

"Don't," he warns.

Unsure of where his head is at, I listen and reach around him, fumbling to find the keyhole. Finally, the key slips in, but I hesitate to turn it.

There's a looming sense of foreboding. I know he's going to attack, but ... it's not knowing exactly what he's going to do that unnerves me.

"Zade ... "

"What's wrong, Adeline?" he taunts darkly, eyes still cast downward. "Turn the key," he whispers.

Fuck, that's terrifying.

"I don't know if I want to," I admit.

"Would you rather I break free myself? You either choose this, or I make the decision for you."

So, what he's saying is I only have the illusion of a choice. What a fucking gentleman.

Working to swallow, I hold my breath and twist the key. The metal clicks, and the next second, his hand is wrapped around the underside of my jaw, lifting me up off his dick and into the air.

I cry out when I'm slammed onto the bed, stiff fingers digging into my neck as he fits himself between my legs and hikes one high on his hip. Without further warning, he drives himself inside of me until there's nothing left of him to give.

"Say it again," he demands. "I want you to look me in my fucking eyes and say it again."

He slams into me once more, wringing a sob from my throat.

My throat dries, the words coming up like dry bread. But I stare into his wild eyes, finding an entire universe within, and say, "I love you. And you've taken everything from me."

His head drops low between his shoulders, gliding his stare down my body all the way to where he stretches me, contemplating my words. And then he looks up at me beneath thick brows, a wicked glint in his stare. As if taking everything from me is all he's ever wanted.

He looks ... God, he looks fucking terrifying. Like a man starved for revenge, and he's finally getting it.

A shuddering breath trickles from my throat as he plunges deep inside me again, a direct threat to destroy all that's left of me.

"You've taken my entire heart and soul and my ability to love another. Sometimes I hate you for that," I tell him, my voice quaking. He tips his chin up, now staring down his nose at me, a grin stretching across his face, crinkling the scar on his cheek.

I forge on, heart pounding as he grinds against me, enjoying watching me struggle to get the words out. "Sometimes, I wish I'd never met you. Because now that I have, now that I'm in love with you, I'll never be able to carve you out. You said I'd bleed out before that'd ever happen, and you were right. And I hate you for that."

Zade hums, licking his lips as if he ate something delicious. His hand drifts up to my cheek, swiping my bottom lip with his thumb.

"I'll never get tired of hearing you say you love me, and if you ever stop, I'll put strings in your fucking lips and make you say it."

Then, he leans down closer until his breath fans across my cheeks, and whispers, "But I don't believe you."

My mouth drops, and my brows furrow. "Are you fuck-"

He shuts me up with his cock, driving into me again with one thrust of his hips. "I've lost sight of my faith. I need to see it."

I thin my eyes, contemplating what more he could possibly want from me.

He rubs my lip harder. "You say so many things you don't mean, baby. The truth lies in your fingertips and in the soft curves of your body. In the tears you cry so pretty for me, and how hard you come for me. Show me the truth."

For several beats, I'm at a loss of how to do that. Then, it dawns on me, and he must see the realization in my eyes because he grins again, staring down at me with amusement.

The look angers me as if he thinks I'm going to merely get on my knees for him and recite poetry or some shit. The challenge burns in my chest as my eyes drift over to my nightstand.

Following my stare, he cocks a brow and turns back to me, picking up on my thoughts without having to say anything.

I've bled for Zade, but only to replace the marks of another man.

Soon after I was taken, he carved a rose over his heart. And now ... I want him to do the same to me.

He leans over and grabs the knife from the nightstand.

"This what you want?" he asks, twirling the knife until the light glints off of it.

"Yes," I say, though I don't sound the least bit confident.

"And what do you want me to do with this? Slice you open again?"

I shake my head, reaching up to brush the pads of my fingers across the jagged rose on his chest.

"I want this," I admit. Grabbing his wrist, I guide his hand, holding the knife right above my breast. The previous amusement shutters from his eyes, replaced by something dark and treacherous.

"I want one just like yours," I say, rolling my hips to remind him that this is real.

He tenses, the veins roping up his arm and neck pulsating. He's studying me closely, and I'm beginning to lose my nerve.

"Please, Zade," I plead quietly.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath, and by the time he's opening them, his beast has taken over.

"Rub your clit, baby," he directs. I do as he says, reaching between us and finding the sensitive little bud and start circling it lightly. My lids flutter, acute pleasure rising and stealing my breath. I feel my pussy clench around him, throbbing with desire as my touch grows firmer.

He growls, rolling his hips so I can feel how full I am of him.

One of his hands slides beneath me, cupping the back of my neck firmly while he leans in close, poising the tip of the knife right above my heart.

He's looking up at me beneath his lashes, waiting for my reaction. I only give him a husky moan as a response, grinding against him. I've been at the mercy of Zade's pain before, and it was one of the most euphoric experiences in my life.

"I'm not going to stop," he warns me.

"I'm not scared of you," I bite, moaning again as an orgasm builds.

"So many lies," he whispers, right before he presses the blade in and starts to cut.

I suck in a sharp breath, burning pain flaring in my chest. Slowly and methodically, he begins to thrust in and out of me, keeping his movements gentle so he can slice cleanly.

This isn't short little cuts like last time, but one long, continuous drag. It's nearly blinding, so I rub my clit harder, moaning from the cornucopia of pleasure and agony ravaging my body.

It feels as if a gasoline-lined rose is seeping into my skin, and it's steadily catching fire beneath his touch.

"I will carve a garden of scars into your flesh, little mouse. Only my pain will bring them to life." I tip my head back, groaning from the sharp bite of his knife. "They'll only ever grow beneath my touch."

I squeeze my eyes shut, and his voice cuts in sharply. "Look at me, Adeline. I want you to watch me brand you as mine."

Though it's a struggle, I force my eyes open, trading between the macabre rose being engraved into my skin, and his glimmering mismatched eyes.

"You're doing such a good job, baby," he whispers, sparing me a quick glance. Sweat forms along my hairline as the two different sensations battle in my nerve endings.

"You take it so fucking good," he groans, biting his lip as blood bubbles and pours from the wound, pooling in the divot in my throat and the sheets beneath me.

My breath hitches as his cock hits that spot inside of me, sending my eyes rolling to the back of my head. I arch into the knife and twirl my fingers faster, uncaring how grotesque the rose will look.

Nothing about our love is pretty. It's full of jagged lines, chipped pieces, and sharp edges. It hurts like fucking hell, but it's not a masterpiece if it didn't make you bleed for it.

He curses, the blade slicing through my skin faster.

"Don't you dare fucking come yet, Adeline. Not until I tell you to."

I don't listen, continuing to chase after it despite his warning. Nothing else matters right now except coming all over his cock with his knife in my chest.

He growls, the hand around the back of my neck sliding up and fisting my hair so tightly, I cry out. After a few more moments, he pulls the knife away, the agony still lancing throughout the bloodied rose.

I'm so close. Right on the precipice.

But then he jerks my head back farther, forcing me to bow off the bed. Seconds later, the sharp edge of the knife is pressing into my jugular, and Zade's dangerously soft voice is filling my ear.

"I can slit your throat so fucking easy. And the harder you come, the faster your blood will drain from your body," he drawls.

My fingers still, a different type of agony stealing my breath as I force the orgasm back down.

"You don't fucking come until I tell you to," he repeats, his voice biting and as rough as sandpaper. Despite his threat, he fucks me harder, pressing his chest into mine and earning a pained cry in response.

His breathing escalates, the sharp edge biting into the sensitive flesh on my neck. With every thrust, he jerks my body and causes it to scrape against my skin.

"Zade, please," I cry. "You feel so fucking good. I need it so bad."

He inhales sharply, and then he's flinging the knife across the room, the sound of it cracking against my vanity mirror swallowed by my sharp cries.

His hand comes around my throat, mouth still pressed into my ear.

"Say it again," he demands, quickening his pace.

I bite my lip until I taste copper, struggling to hold on-to keep from exploding around him. I'm in a losing battle, and I am a fucking liar. I'm terrified of what Zade will do-enough to keep grappling at that control. Yet I know if I let go, I'll welcome his punishment as chaotically as I did the tip of his knife.

"I love you," I choke out, the words scarcely leaving my tongue before his hand is clamping down, arresting the oxygen in my lungs.

"Such a good girl. I want you to soak these sheets with your cum as deeply as your blood, do you understand me?"

My mouth opens, but no sound escapes. He's gripping my throat too tightly to allow a single decibel to slip through.

Blackness licks at the edges of my vision, taunting me as it creeps in slowly. The pressure in my head heightens, and I feel how bright red my face is. Panic unfurls in my stomach, into the whirlpool of bliss and agony. It's a battle of needing him to stop and preferring he snap my neck if he does.

I'm clawing at his arm, and when my eyes begin to roll, he releases my throat right as a tidal wave crashes through me.

The combination of the blood draining from my head at a dizzying speed and the earth-shattering orgasm reduces me to delirium. My pussy clenches around him so tightly, I feel him strain to sink into me.

"Zade!" I scream through a ravaged throat, hoarse and cracked, my arms looping around his neck, desperate to hold on to something, and needing it to ground me as I'm shredded into pieces.

My ears ring as my body bows completely off the bed, the euphoria clawing at my insides too intense for me to process.

He refuses to stop, fucking me harder even as I thrash in his hold. His hands clutch my hips with a bruising force, and if I could see past the image of God staring in my eyes, asking me if I'm ready to come home, I'd find an unhinged man on his knees asking if he can come, too.

Tears spring to my eyes, and my face contorts with a helpless cry as my body is ravaged. All of the sensations-it's too much.

"Oh my God, please, I can't anymore!"

I feel his fist slam into the mattress beside my head with a guttural growl, and his tongue slides along my cheekbone, lapping up the teardrops.

"Eyes on me when you're praying to me," he snaps. I shake my head, more tears spilling over. "Fuck, you're so beautiful when you cry for me. Do you think I'll ever stop now? I want to drink your fucking tears like they're the blood of Christ."

I shake my head again, a silent plea for him to stop. But he refuses, and I wonder how much longer I can take it before I black out.

"Am I your salvation, too?" I choke out, barely getting the words out before a sob breaks free.

"You were always going to be the one that saved me, little mouse." He shudders, and I feel his body tightening as he nears his end. It's coming for me, too, and I'm scared what will become of me once it hits.

He fucks me faster, slipping his hand between our bodies and sliding his fingers against my clit, and this time, I don't see anything at all. My mouth opens on a near-silent scream, and he roars, supplying the sound of us breaking apart, adrift in our own decimation.

He stills, but my hips have a mind of their own, rolling against him as we're both reduced to ash.

You are dust, and unto dust you shall return.

Time ceases to exist, and by the time we both regain clarity, we're panting and trembling with aftershocks. My cheeks are wet with tears, still leaking from my eyes as I attempt to catch my breath. But I can't. Not with the sobs racking my bruised throat.

Zade loops his arm around my neck, holding me to him tightly as we both try to come back down from ... whatever the fuck that was.

"I love you, too," he rasps.

Every day, we come a little closer to death-our bodies deteriorating just a little more. And if this is what dying feels like, then I never want to feel anything else.

Chapter thirty-eight The Hunter

It's quiet.

Too quiet.

The clock ticks in the background, and a methodic pair of footsteps creaks above me. Back and forth.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

Yet, it's silent. Claire is silent.

She took precautions after my television appearance four days ago and crashed all her devices the same night.

I knew it was a possibility that Claire would take my threat to that level -it was a variable I would be stupid not to consider. But if it meant keeping Addie from being charged with murder, which could've led to another kidnapping attempt once in police custody, it was a risk I was willing to take. I could've taken her somewhere no one would find her, but that would be ripping her away from any semblance of a normal life. Not that she has much of one now, but at least we have a chance at getting it back once Claire is taken care of.

I had hoped the red-headed bitch would be too prideful to consider disposing of her devices, but I suppose Claire wouldn't be where she is if she was an idiot.

We tripled down on security around Parsons, ensuring not a goddamn bird gets past the perimeters without me knowing about it. In the meantime, we're working on getting a signal back on Claire. Now that we know exactly where she is, I can have one of my men get as close to her island as possible. Then, we'll fly out a drone that can send a viral EMP to her location. That'll send a virus to any technology within her area, and then we can decipher which devices are valuable from there. It will take a couple of days to get someone out there and within range, and there's plenty she can cook up in the time that she's off-grid.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

I roll my neck, the muscles popping and groaning.

She hasn't made any moves yet. But that's not fucking right. The bitch is reactive. Her head is the size of this manor, and just as dark as the inside of it.

The footsteps halt, as if hearing my thoughts and offended by the notion. I take a sip of my whiskey, daring the asshole to try me. I'm on edge enough to fight air, and I'll fucking win, too.

After a few moments, the footsteps resume, and I huff out a humorless laugh.

Whichever ghost it is, it's as restless as the bones in my body. Maybe it's a direct reflection of how I feel. A manifestation or some shit. Parsons Manor is full of energy, and I wouldn't be surprised if it could be so easily manipulated.

I gulp down the rest of the contents in my glass, hissing at the burn. The clock continues to tick, drawing near the three AM mark.

I got home a few hours ago from taking down a ring. This one has victims as young as newborns, and I haven't been able to sleep yet. I'm too full of rage and with the knowledge that Claire has something planned.

Phantom fingers of dread are inching up my spine like a spider, tightening my shoulders with each jab. Whatever it is, it's going to piss me the hell off. Call me fucking psychic, I guess.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

Pulling out my phone, I dial Jay, bouncing my leg as it rings.

"You hate me," is his groggy answer.

"Something is wrong," I say, digging in my pocket to pull out my cigarettes.

"What happened?" he asks, sounding more alert. I shake my head, struggling to put it into words.

"I don't know yet. It's quiet around Parsons. No sign of anyone. But that's too obvious."

Jay's silent for a moment. "I assume this is about Claire. What could she possibly do?"

"Who fucking knows," I grumble, irritated with myself, and angrily sticking the tip between my lips. "The cunt will think of something creative, I'm sure."

He yawns. "Did you talk to Addie about it? You couldn't have woken her to talk about your feelings and then call me when you know something is actually wrong?"

Shithead.

"She's sleeping."

"I was sleeping."

"She also went to bed angry because she got in an argument with her mom about getting on medication or some shit. I didn't want to disturb her."

I'm pretty sure her mom was trying to convince Addie to get me on medication. Antipsychotics, to be exact. I laughed, and Addie then promptly agreed with her mother.

In response, I rolled her onto my face and ate her pussy until she was riding my tongue into oblivion. The little liar loves me just the way I am.

He sighs. "You're lucky I understand the wrath of a scorned woman." He pauses. "And a man, if I'm being totally transparent."

I roll my eyes. Idiot. He understands it so well because his booty calls are just that, and they don't like it. But does he stop fucking them? Of course not.

"I'm sure they'll both get over it," Jay placates. "From what I've heard, they love each other. They just have a funky way of showing it. Or acknowledging it."

I flick the lighter, about to light my damn cigarette, and just as the flame ignites, so does the proverbial light bulb in my head. My heart drops.

"Shit, Jay, check Addie's parents' house," I clip, finally singeing the tip and inhaling deeply.

He pauses. "You don't think Claire would try something with them, do you?"

"Who else would she go after? I have no family, but Addie does, and it wouldn't be hard to find out that her mother has been visiting frequently."

I hear bed sheets rustling and then the whir of his computer turning on. That dread now has me in a chokehold, and I feel with every fiber of my being that something will be amiss.

Where's my fucking laptop?

Not anywhere close to me.

"Jay," I prompt, growing impatient as I take another drag, my knee bouncing restlessly.

"I'm looking." A few seconds later, he curses, "Shit, they have a Nest camera. Someone busted in about thirty minutes ago."

Fuck. I fly off the stool, nearly sending it toppling to the checkered floor.

"Her parents don't have cameras inside the house, so I can't see what's happening," he says, voice tight.

I've already stubbed out my cigarette in the sink, and am rushing toward the stairs, mouthing a few choice words on the way.

"Send a drone out to keep an eye on the outside. I'm on my way there," I direct, swinging around the railing and taking the steps two at a time.

"Sending one now."

"Thank you," I say, clicking off the call as I fly down the hallway and through Addie's bedroom door. She's facing away, curled in a ball, and sleeping soundly. The balcony doors are cracked open, allowing in a cool breeze. She tends to get overheated from her nightmares, so those doors are always open.

I rush to her, not bothering to stay silent.

"Addie," I call, nudging her softly. I hate to wake her when she seems to be getting a moment's peace while sleeping-but she'd murder me if she discovered something was wrong with her parents, and I left to handle it without telling her.

Her eyes crack open, brows knitting as she comes to.

"What?" she croaks, gearing up to throw the sheets over her head. I grab her wrist, squeezing tightly so she understands the severity.

She freezes, her eyes now flying open to stare up at me.

"What happened?" she asks, panicked as she sits up.

Fuck. She's completely naked, and the fact that it hardly distracts me is how strongly my inner alarm bells are blaring.

"Get dressed. We're going to your parents'," I order, stepping away from her and heading toward her dresser.

"What? Why? What's going on?"

I shake my head. "I had a bad feeling Claire was up to something, so I had Jay check their house. Someone broke in about a half-hour ago."

She's scrambling from the bed and beside me in seconds, slapping away my hands and grabbing the clothes she needs.

"Why would she go after my parents?" she asks, frantically pulling on clothes.

"Because outside of myself and Daya, it's the only other way to get to you. There's been no communication, which means they might not have done anything drastic yet."

She shakes her head, panic pulling her brows into a tight knot. "I don't get it. I don't understand why she's after me like this."

I grab one of my guns from her dresser, check the clip, and tuck it into the back of my jeans. The knife I gave her for her birthday is downstairs, but I'll be grabbing extra guns for her.

"At this point, it's just personal, baby. I'm the biggest threat to her organization, and you're the biggest payday she'll ever see in her lifetime. You will simultaneously make her richer than any human has a right to be and bring me to my knees."

"Xavier already paid for me, and now he's dead. So she's trying to make double the money on me," she snipes.

She rushes over to her sneakers lying haphazardly at the foot of her bed. "She can't possibly think this will work. Does she think I'm that fucking stupid to run into the same situation twice?"

"It's not about how smart you are, it's about how desperate you are. And if she gets ahold of your parents and uses them as collateral, you will be desperate enough to do anything."

Addie huffs, stomping her foot to get the shoe past her heel.

"I'll be damned if I become like Rio," she mutters under her breath.

I'll sooner make it into heaven before that happens.

"What the hell is she going to do anyway?" she asks aloud, though it sounds rhetorical. She turns to me, her light brown eyes sharp. "The stupid bitch is going to try to get me to trade my life for theirs, am I right?"

"Most likely," I concede, following her out of her bedroom door. The moment we step out, it feels as if the walls open their eyes, watching us rush through the dark hallway. Addie cuts through the shadow figures creeping across the floor, paying them no mind.

"Should we wake Sibby?"

I open my mouth, but then as if conjured straight out of a Rob Zombie film, she steps out of her bedroom door near the staircase, covering her mouth as she yawns. Her pigtails are skewed, and her purple nightgown hangs off one shoulder.

She squints her eyes, staring at us with confusion. Addie stops short, gives Sibby one look, and then clips, "Get dressed quickly. You may get to have some fun tonight."

Whatever fatigue was clinging onto her wisps away in a matter of seconds. Her eyes widen with excitement.

"Can my henchmen come, too?"

I sigh. "Only two can fit, and only if they don't get in the way." They're imaginary, yet the assholes somehow still cause problems. She takes off back into the room, squealing.

"Give us two seconds!" she shouts from the depths, but Addie is already tapping her little feet down the stairs like a roadrunner on crack.

"Don't forget your knives and guns, mouse," I call after her. "And, Sibby ... limit your knives and guns."

I hear a dramatic sigh from the room, but I ignore her, sticking my Bluetooth in my ear.

Within two minutes, we're piled into my car and taking off towards her parents' house. It's an hour away, but I'm determined to get there in half the time.

Ten minutes into the drive, the men were dragging Addie's parents out of the house. Jay made a split-second decision and gunned down their truck. The drone he's using is special grade, equipped with bullets, and highly illegal.

The men took her parents right back inside and will be waiting for our arrival. There's a slight risk that they'll kill her parents before we get there, but that would be entirely stupid.

If her parents are dead, there's no leverage. And if they tried to escape, Jay would shoot them down. Either way, they lose.

"They know we're here," I remind Addie as I pull into the driveway.

Despite Serena's disapproval of Parsons Manor, living in a secluded house is in her blood. She doesn't live in the burbs like I'd imagine, but a beautiful home behind a thicket of trees, and far from the road. It isn't removed from civilization like the manor is, but it's not easy to find, either.

"You don't think they killed them, do you?"

"No, baby," I tell her truthfully. "If they did, they know that if I don't kill them, Claire sure as hell would. She'd lose her leverage."

Addie rolls her bottom lip between her teeth as I come to a stop. The house is dark, and the surrounding trees sway in the wind, the branches casting crooked shadows across the home, exuding an ominous feel. It's a large white three-story house with a massive window on the top center, showcasing the silhouette of a chandelier.

I call Jay, and he answers immediately.

"Keep an eye on the house and make sure no one else comes in," I order.

"Already on it, boss man," he says, the tapping of his keyboard following his confirmation.

I turn to Addie and ask, "You ready?"

She spares me a single glance before opening the door and stepping out, silently answering my question. Sibby scrambles out after her while I shut the car off and follow after them.

Addie's hips sway angrily as she half-runs toward the front door.

I eat up the distance in a few long strides, grabbing her arm and hauling her back. Her neck nearly cracks from how hard she whips her head to glare at me.

"Don't go charging in mindlessly."

Ripping her arm from my grip, she scoffs at me.

"I'm not an idiot," she snaps. I smirk and raise my hands in surrender. If this weren't her mother in danger, I'd bend her over and fuck her until she does go stupid.

"Sorry, baby. Proceed."

Leaving me behind, she charges up to the entrance, then as if hitting slow motion on a movie, her movements become gradual and smooth as she reaches for the front door.

Turning the knob, she quietly opens the door, the darkness bleeding out from the depths of the foyer while her other hand grips the knife strapped to her thigh, readying for someone to jump out and attack. No one does, the silence deafening. Stepping farther inside, her eyes scan every direction. When it's deemed clear, she nods Sibby and me in after her.

I bite my lip, fucking relishing the sight of her in charge. My girl is strong and capable, and I'll gladly follow her lead.

The blackness swallows us whole as I soundlessly shut the door behind me. It's so quiet, you could hear a mouse fart. Addie disappears into the darkness as she moves deeper into the house. I can't see much, but I can feel everything.

The chill coercing the goosebumps across my flesh to rise, the heat moving throughout the pipes, and the eyes watching my every move. They come from all directions and nowhere at all. Yet, they're as real as the ghostly fingers I feel brushing across my skin in Parsons Manor.

Thankfully, Sibby understands the situation perfectly and contains her giddiness. She's used to creeping through houses, but she always had the protection of the walls. In Satan's Affair, she was the creeping eyes.

Maybe now she'll understand that gut feeling of knowing someone is watching you that wants to cause you harm but never knowing where they are until they're right in your face.

We travel down a long hallway, passing portraits of Addie gradually aging until she was a teenager. Normally, I'd stop and stare at her childhood pictures, fantasizing about the kid versions of myself falling in love with her had I seen her then. Something tells me that I'd be enraptured by her no matter how young we were.

Now, it's so eerie in here that those smiling eyes in the pictures appear sinister. As if the different versions of Addie are laughing at us because they know the danger awaiting us. I want to laugh right back because I was the danger awaiting her.

We emerge into a kitchen, finding the expansive area clear. She starts to head to the left, but a slight shuffling sound arises from our right. She freezes and glances back at me. I nod towards the noise. As much as she wants to find her mom, we can't leave dangerous men behind.

Nodding, she turns and veers toward the noise.

"Watch your step," Addie whispers a moment later. Keeping an eye on Sibby's feet, I see her step down, her boots sinking into the soft carpet.

It's a large living room, with a massive TV screen mounted on the wall to our right and plush couches surrounding it, along with a recliner. I imagine that's where her dad sits, yelling at whatever football team plays on the screen.

His image fades as a different person replaces it, a body emerging from the darkness like a demon called forth by its master.

Addie and Sibby spot him the same time I do, their bodies briefly bristling from the creepiness before we all spring into action. Addie rushes toward the dude, but I feel another person creeping behind me, and I glimpse metal right before I grab Sibby by one of her pigtails and yank, jerking her out of the way of a flying knife that was centimeters from impaling her in the head.

A breath of hot air fans across the back of my neck a mere second before I turn around, sliding my gun from the back of my jeans and taking aim at the culprit who threw the knife. I fire off a shot, hitting the person in the throat and scarcely dodging another knife to the face, catching his wrist right before it could connect. My scars get Addie hot and bothered, so I wouldn't have minded if he succeeded.

The silencer attachment produces the smallest of sounds, quieter than the man now convulsing on the floor, choking on his own blood. Whipping back around, I find Addie scuffling with the first person. Just as I step in to help, she uppercuts the guy, her blade plunging up through his mouth and into his brain.

After she rips the knife from his head, he flops to the ground, dead before he hits the ruined carpet.

Fuck, that's my good girl.

Sibby peers around, and from what I can see, she's pouting. Her lips are pursed, disappointed she didn't get to partake in the action.

"There will be more," I assure quietly, my heart pounding from the adrenaline in my system. It's like morphine pumping through my veins, giving me a high that drugs could never emulate.

Addie faces me with rounded eyes and her hand dripping with blood. Her chest heaves, and from here, I can smell her excitement.

An animalistic urge is beginning to take over. I want to take her to the ground and fuck her in the pool of blood. But her mother is somewhere in this house, most likely hurt and being held hostage.

Stepping back, I dip my chin in approval, feeling just how feral my stare is. She works to swallow, turning and scanning the room to distract herself from the energy thickening between us.

Pulling myself away from my murderous little mouse, I walk ahead and check every corner of the room, finding a small staircase in the back corner. I peer up the steps, seeing nothing but endless black.

"That's my room," she whispers from behind me. Turning my head, I peek at her over my shoulder.

"I think I'll stay out of it for now," I answer, my voice hoarse. "Go check to make sure no one is up there. Quickly."

"We need to find-"

"Addie," I growl. "If we don't clear the house, they could be lying in wait until you're distracted and kill you. So please just check the fucking room, baby."

Snapping her mouth shut, she does as I say, keeping a wide berth as she walks past me. It takes her only a minute before she's making her way back down the stairs.

"Clear," she breathes. "Let's check their room now, please. It's on the other side of the kitchen."

"After you," I drawl. She rushes past me, leading us back through the bloody living room, then towards the stairs on the backside of the kitchen, right before the dining room.

Light on her feet, she quickly climbs the steps, Sibby and I close behind. They're all aware of our presence but stomping around like elephants will only help conceal where they're hiding.

The upper floor is a large circle surrounding the stairs, the monstrous chandelier hanging directly above. The diamonds hanging from the gaudy fixture glint in the moonlight spearing through the massive window.

The air is thicker up here, weighing heavily on my shoulders like God himself is trying to hold me down.

Someone is up here, but they're not visible. Not yet, at least. An ominous feeling races through my bones, enough for me to step forward and push Addie behind me. I'll slap duct tape over her mouth if she tries to argue. I don't care how capable she is, I'll always protect her.

But she doesn't argue, indicating she feels it, too. My chest tightens as I look around, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It only takes a few more seconds. A bright red laser spears through the window, landing directly on my chest.

"Zade, get down!" Jay shouts through my earpiece.

"Shit," I curse before I dive directly into Addie and Sibby, tackling them both to the ground and nearly sending us right back down the stairs. The window shatters, and I feel the heat of the bullet slide past my arm, taking a chunk out of my bicep with it.

Sharp glass rains down on us, little slices stinging my cheeks and hands. Addie and Sibby cover their heads, attempting to protect themselves from the barrage of tiny knives.

"Fuck, is everyone okay?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"All's good," Addie groans, followed by Sibby's irate confirmation.

"The motherfucker was shielding his body with something, wasn't picking up on the infrared sensors in the drone until he repositioned," Jay explains hurriedly, then muttering under his breath, "Probably used fucking Styrofoam."

Before I can tell him to, a blast of fire lights up the sky, then quickly fizzles out.

Sniper dude just got sniped.

"He's dead," he announces in my ear, breathing out a sigh, but then immediately starts panicking again, "Please tell me everyone is alive. You're all alive, right?" he asks repeatedly.

"We're all good. But there could be more," I say. "We'll stay away from windows as best as we can. Keep me updated on any more movement."

Another sigh of relief. "Will do."

Sibby growls, wiggling beneath Addie, who is gripping my injured arm and looking over it, her fingers coated in my blood. I quickly check it over. It's superficial.

"You okay, baby?" she asks quietly, her voice shaky. It'd take nothing short of an incinerator to melt me, except when it comes to Addie. Then I'm fucking slush.

I place a kiss on her forehead. "I'm fine, mouse. Let's get moving," I say.

"I really want to stab someone right now," Sibby snips, finally sliding out from beneath Addie. Glass has to be cutting into her, but she doesn't seem to notice when she's too busy yelling at herself.

"Mortis, move! Quit clinging to me like a leech, I'm fine. Zade's the one that took the bullet, stupid." In her attempt to detach herself from her imaginary friend, she ends up kicking me in the head.

See? The assholes always cause problems.

"Sibby," I hiss through gritted teeth.

"What? It's not my fault," she sasses, not the least bit sorry.

Groaning, I roll off of Addie and sit up.

"Get up. We need to get away from the window." I stand and help the girls up, one of them now in a seriously foul mood. Her temper is only going to continue to rise until she stabs someone, and my headache is only going to worsen until that happens.

They gently brush the glass from their bodies, and with the moonlight spilling into the room, I note tiny cuts all over their faces.

"Which one is your mom's room?" I ask, keeping my voice low and swiping a few shards from Addie's backside that she missed. Sibby is sticking out her ass and wiping her butt off, but in her head, one of her henchmen is helping her.

"First door on the left," she responds.

"Sibby, I want you to go and check the other rooms," I tell her. Surprisingly, she doesn't complain and takes off, probably praying for someone to try her. I'm praying for someone to try her.

Glass crunches beneath my boots as I hug the wall, sliding along it until I reach the door with Addie following my lead.

I crack open the door, tucking myself back around the corner in case more bullets come flying.

"Stay here for now," I order, not giving her time to argue. Holding my gun up, I slip into the room. It's pitch-black in here, and I wish I had thought to bring my night vision goggles.

Straining my ears, I listen for any noise, but I don't hear anything. Not even the sound of breathing.

As my eyes adjust, the bed becomes clearer. Empty, save for the rumpled bed sheets and skewed pillows. A lamp is knocked off the end table, upside down with the cord ripped from the wall. There must've been a struggle getting them out of bed.

I let out a slow breath, continuing to scan my eyes over every inch of the room, trying to pick out any figures standing in the shadows or lying on the ground.

"They're not in here," I call out quietly.

Addie sneaks into the room behind me, her footfalls light and her body poised for threat. She's come so far from the girl who ran headfirst into situations without properly thinking it through. She's a trained killer now, and fuck if it doesn't make my chest tight with pride.

I never wanted to change Addie. Despite how dangerous her impulsiveness and stupidly brave tendencies were, it's what made her so fascinating. But her circumstances took that out of my hands, and while I still needed my brave girl, there wasn't any room for thoughtless actions anymore.

There's nothing thoughtless about how Addie moves now, and my fascination with her has only amplified. All those idle threats she used to make about killing or hurting me-she could make those come true now.

Fuck. Yes.

"Where do you think they could be?" she whispers, bringing me back to the situation at hand. I'd berate myself for getting distracted by her if I knew it would change anything, but it won't. Dying with Addie on my mind is the only way I want to go out anyway.

I shake my head. "I don't know. But if there are people in the house, that means they're most likely still in the house, too."

Addie walks to the bed, pressing her hand into the sheets. "It's cold, so they've been gone for a minute." Turning to me, she decides with resignation and dread, "I think we need to check the basement." Her body is stiff, and her shoulders tense.

"What's wrong with the basement?"

She shrugs a shoulder. "It's creepy down there?" she says, though it sounds like a question.

"You like creepy."

She seems to pause on that thought, and then relaxes, nodding her head. "Yeah, you're right. I do like creepy. Let's go."

Sibby emerges from one of the rooms just as we exit her parents' bedroom, appearing more frustrated.

"No one is up here. I busted in every room," she says with disappointment.

"Basement," I clip. "They might be down there."

Addie leads us back down the stairs and towards the basement door in the dining room.

"If they are down there, they'll hear our footsteps and know we're coming," I murmur, once more pushing Addie behind me. It's better if I'm the one getting shot at so she can handle her parents.

The door creaks open, and it's like looking into a massive black hole in the ground.

"How big is the basement?"

"Pretty big. It's not finished," she answers on a whisper. "There are rooms down there, too."

Slowly, I descend the stairs, and my sight is completely robbed. There's a cold chill and another heavy weight of dread down here, like an evil goddess beckoning me into her lair. Such a warm fucking welcome.

In the far back corner of the basement, a tiny sliver of light shines from the depths of what looks to be a hallway.

That pit of dread yawns, consuming my insides until all I feel is doom.

Addie and Sibby flank either side of me, and though I can't see their faces, I can feel their restlessness.

"We're in the family room, down that hallway is the unfinished side," Addie informs me, her voice barely above a whisper.

Just as I take a step, the glow extinguishes as if they cut the lights out. I freeze, my eyes beginning to adjust.

They didn't cut the lights out. Someone is standing at the entrance of the hallway. They're unmoving, but I feel their eyes boring into where we stand. My hand tightens around my gun, and I slowly raise it, preparing for them to attack. Then, they slowly step back and disappear down the hallway again, the glow taking their place once more.

My heart pumps wildly in my chest. Shit, that's freaky. Even I can admit that.

Sibby scoffs. "I spent too much time in haunted houses-no one is creepier than me. Let me go first."

I shrug, deciding Sibby fucking with them wouldn't hurt.

"Have fun," I mumble, dropping my weapon an inch, though I refuse to relax. There could be more lurking around down here.

She giggles loudly, the sound sinister, before she softly sings a lullaby as she heads for the hallway. I can't be sure, but if I know Sibby, then I'm positive she's skipping there.

I grab Addie's hand, leading her to where the little doll now stands in the entrance, her tiny body highlighted by the light.

Her pink knife is in her hand, and she stabs the tip into the wall beside her. Then, with her lullaby growing louder, she slowly walks down the hallway, dragging her knife as she goes.

Addie cringes, but I can't tell if it's because Serena is going to be pissed about that or if it's because Sibby is just as creepy as she promised.

Both are daunting.

Voices arise from the room they're in, sounding nervous and slightly angry.

"Don't come any closer," a deep voice barks. Sibby pauses, abruptly cutting off her lullaby, and cocks her head.

"That's not very nice," she whispers, her childlike tone sending chills down my spine. "I just want to play."

"I will blow your fucking head off, bitch," he spits. A large man fills the doorway at the end of the hallway, and I quickly usher Addie out of sight before he spots us at the mouth. I flatten myself against the wall and peek around the corner.

If he tries anything, I'll be the one blowing heads off.

He's burly and tall, with a bald head, black tattoos covering his pale skin, and a bushy beard surrounding his thinned lips. A gun is in his hand, aimed directly at Sibby. But she doesn't seem the least bit frightened.

Muffled whimpers emit from the room, both masculine and feminine, and the sounds relax me a bit. They may be hurt, and definitely scared, but they're also alive. That's all that matters right now.

"My henchmen won't let that happen," she says. I've no idea where she imagines her harem to be, but the only one intimidating the armed man right now is her.

Which is admirable when she's five foot nothing.

"Drop the knife," he orders her. Sighing, Sibby listens, her knife clanging down the wall.

"You might as well tell me to undress next if you're going to strip me of things," she pouts. Gripping the bottom of her shirt, she starts to pull it up, doing just that.

The man's eyes widen, and his gun drops as he watches Sibby take off her shirt. Thank fuck she's wearing a bra.

I shake my head. Her methods are really fucking weird but still effective. She throws her shirt at the man, causing him to flinch back. Within that small increment of time, she grabs another knife strapped to her thigh and whips it at the man, the tip of the knife lodging in his eye straight through.

The whimpers rise to full-fledged screams of horror as the man tips face first, dropping like a bag of sand. His weight lands on the knife, driving it completely through his skull.

Quickly grabbing her knife and shirt from the floor, she pulls it on and skips the rest of the way into the room, stepping over her convulsing victim.

"Let's go," I say, grabbing Addie's hand and rushing into the room behind Sibby, attempting to avoid the mess.

Serena and her husband, William, are bound to two chairs in the center of the room, duct tape slapped over their mouths. A single light bulb dangles above them, illuminating the two men on either side, each holding a gun to their head.

The intruders are tense, on edge now that Sibby flung a knife into their very dead partner's eye.

"Mom ... Dad ... ," Addie breathes, and I feel her body bristling with the need to run to them.

Serena's eyes are wet and bloodshot, smudged with black mascara. Her blonde hair is mussed, and her silk pajamas are torn at the collar. William squirms beside her, profusely sweating. His graying hair is matted to his head, and his white t-shirt is soaked. A cut mars his cheekbone, and a bruise is already beginning to form around his eye.

"You got here quicker than I expected after your friend fucked with our truck," the intruder to my left says, his gun digging into Serena's temple. He has deep black hair that hangs down around his ears, tangled and greasy, and a massive, hooked nose with a scar cutting across it. The other is a short, blond man with a baby face, who appears to be way out of his element.

"I was looking forward to having fun with them just a little bit longer. Maybe see if Mommy has a golden pussy too." His finger curls around a strand of Serena's hair, and she jerks away with a muffled scream.

"Don't fucking touch her," Addie snaps. The man only smiles.

"I wanted to turn them into a nice display for you, too," he continues, ignoring her. He shrugs a shoulder, attempting to appear nonchalant. "I suppose you'd make a better exhibit. Z hanging out of that big window in the front of the house, just like you did with the doctor. How poetic that'd be."

"I'd love to play arts and crafts with you," I murmur, drawing my switchblade from my hoodie and opening it, the zip of metal lost in Serena's suppressed cries.

The man cocks the gun in response, his threat clear.

"You kill her, you kill the only thing keeping my bullet out of your brain," I warn.

"Oh, Mommy's the favorite, I see. Well, then we can do without the father, can't we?"

His gun pivots to Addie's father, who now has two guns pressed against his head. The man's intentions are clear: killing one will only cement Addie's need to trade herself to save the only living parent she has left.

"You do that, then there will be no diamond at all." My gaze snaps to Addie, my heart coming to a screeching halt when I see her holding her knife to her own throat.

Oh, hell no.