Page 38 of Signed in Blood

Murphy spits venom, accusing Warren. “How do I know it wasn’t you?”

“Are you really saying what I think you are?”

“I mean what do you want me to expect, man? I’m as confused and lost as you are!” Murphy argues.

“If you want to go there then how do I know it wasn’t you, motherfucker!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I want him dead?” Murphy questions.

“Why else? To keep all the fucking money, you prick!”

“Ditto, asshole!”

Murphy storms off and we watch him, knowing these are the moments of his last breath.

And I thrive in that too.

Chapter Seventeen

Lucifer

* * *

I watch her hunt, choosing to stalk Warren over Murphy. Seeing her seek her revenge is as addicting as her cunt. She’s growing stronger and more powerful in her violence and I take satisfaction in being part of that. Or maybe I’m the one responsible for it. Either way, I love it.

I peer above into the night sky, nodding to one of my crows to follow Murphy, she’s going to kill him next. They caw in the night sky and I close my eyes.

It’s been centuries of the crows being my only companions. They find peace with her. As if she’s always belonged to me.

The snow crunches beneath my feet as I follow the path my little piece took down the sidewalk. I grant her as much room as she needs to not feel me hovering over her.

Afterall, this is for her. To mend what they broke inside of her.

Up ahead, I can see her clearly, and past her, Warren rounds a corner but his thoughts are clear.

Warren continues to make his way toward the bar, waiting to take out his frustrations on a bottle of bourbon. He’s scared and I love that for her. She needs to feel their terror in the same way they made her feel her own.

It’s part of the process to heal and move on from this. People always say that vengeance doesn’t make you feel better, but that’s a bunch of bullshit. It makes you feel invincible.

I watch the way she tracks his footsteps, the way she studies his movement with each deliberate step he takes. I watch as she reads his mind, his thoughts, enjoying the way she’s tormenting his mind, placing little thoughts in his head.

She’s fucking brilliant. A savage no less. She adds to his paranoia that it’s Murphy. I do wonder how she’ll end him. Whether she’ll toy with him or keep it simple.

Lilith doesn’t hesitate in playing with his mind, adding images of what they did to her. Little by little, she begins to remember more of what happened to her. She’s stronger than she could ever know.

She tortures him effortlessly and comfortably, wanting him to experience the pain they put her through. It’s as addicting to me as everything else about her. It’s like she’s made only for me.

Lilith throws her head back, playing him as if he is nothing more than a toy she’s manipulating.

My little whore is taking all her pleasure in the violence she’s inflicting, and it makes my dick hard.

I resist the urge to claim her right then and there, taking her to the ground and having my way with her. I only just had her and I already crave her again. She’s the poison in my veins, the adrenaline in my fury of what they did to her.

“Lilith…” I murmur into her ear. She can’t see me, but she can hear me. “You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”

She smiles, stabbing him with her mind. I grin, pleased that she’s catching onto her power. She has nothing to fear and every advantage.

But all the playfulness of magic can’t soothe the rage.