Page 101 of Pink Ink

In one swift move, my attacker’s hair is in Maddox’s hands, and the skin along his neck is splitting apart. Scarlet splatters onto the wall, but the lunatic doesn’t stop there. Each slice and jab is unpracticed. There’s no art or finesse to the way Maddox mutilates the body. Just short, sharp explosions of movements, with death gleaming in his moss-colored eyes. I stop counting after the tenth puncture wound.

It’s a crime of passion.

And it’s… it’s fascinating.

Reenacting murders and watching people get tortured on TV is child’s play compared to seeing it play out in front of me.

Better him than me, a small voice says in my head.

Rationally, I’m aware Maddox could do the same thing to me. Irrationally, I trust him not to. He’s never hurt me. Believes in me in a way I haven’t experienced in a long time. Looks out for me when no one else does. For God’s sake, he’s brutally murdering a man instead of sending him home with brain damage just because he cut my cheek.

The metallic taste of iron thickens in the air the more wounds he inflicts. Maddox straightens, cleaning the blade on the sleeve of his sweater before tucking the weapon back into his pocket.

“As I said, throat slitting can be a very messy ordeal. I hope you’re taking notes, Miss Sinaga,” Maddox states, wearing his faux-casual demeanor.

My vision narrows on the blood pooling out of the corpse’s gaping holes, crimson soaks into the fake flower petals. It’s beautifully grotesque. A painting in its own right.

“You’rehim,” I whisper the obvious. “You’re Böcklin’s Shadow.”

A smile splits across his face that chills my internal temperature. “What gave it away?”

“Is that rhetorical?” My voice is just above a rasp.

“I warned you to stop visiting crime scenes.”

You didn’t say they wereyourfucking crime scenes. “Are you going to kill me?” I croak, becoming more lightheaded with each heartbeat.

“Don’t insult me, Miss Sinaga. If you have to question it, then I’m clearly not doing a very good job at showing you my intentions.”

Swallowing, I nod. I believe him. He’s had every opportunity to harm me when he’s known for a while that I’ve discovered a serial killer. But it doesn’t explain why he let me get away with it.

“I’m going to pass out,” I rasp, knees wobbling from the piercing pain in my head.

“Please don’t. That would be rather embarrassing for you. Out of character too, might I add.”

White dots my vision. “My head,” I slur as I feel my body go sideways.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Maddox closes the distance in the blink of an eye, holding me against him with a bloody hand cupping my cheek.

The warm liquid smears along my skin, and the coppery scent slams into my nose. I tentatively bring my trembling hands to my face, and pull them away to stare at the fine coat of red on the tips of my fingers.

“You got his blood on me.” My voice is hoarse, ragged like I’ve been sobbing for hours on end.

“Say the word and I could get more—the thickness of the liquid makes it good to paint with. Although, it doesn’t age well.” His eyes show no amusement as he speaks, only stone-cold worry.

The morbid humor melts away some of my shock to make room for the panic to settle back in. Alarm bells grow louder in my head. He’s a serial killer, and I’m the star witness.

I yank myself out of his hold and stumble toward the stairs to put distance between me, Maddox, and his latest victim.

“You’re a murderer,” I hiss, pointing the stun gun at him in case it turns outI’mthe endgame. I don’t believe it, but self-preservation demands it.

He raises a brow, seemingly pleased that I’m no longer a fainting risk. “Says my stalker.”

“I wasn’t stalking you,” I stammer, forgetting about the dead man on the floor. My head pounds like someone is taking a sledgehammer to it. Everything hurts. “Iwasn’t. I—I was following your work and studying it. That’s different.”

“Are you or are you not at my crime scene?” He raises a brow. “Might I add that you’ve displayed clear signs of obsession toward me. I admit, I’m rather flattered.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were the killer,” I try to reason.Not for certain.