Page 47 of The Dead Don’t Scream

The air turns heavy with hunger. Rhys enters first. Dante locks the doors behind them. Three masked men surround one naked woman beneath the crooked cross. Sloane lifts her ribboned wrist. Gold glows against her skin.

“The hunt isn’t over.”

“No,” Rhys says, removing his gloves.

Dante’s painted grin turns toward me.

“It’s finally getting interesting.”

I return to Sloane’s side and place my hand around her throat. Her pulse leaps beneath my palm.

“Color?” I ask.

She looks at each of us. The Reaper. The Devil. The Scarecrow. Then she smiles.

“Green.”

Chapter

Four

THREE MASKED MONSTERS

RHYS

“Green.”

One word. Certain. Clear. Still, I don’t touch her. Sloane stands naked beside the altar, surrounded by black candles and wearing the evidence of everything Callum has already done to her. Rope marks circle her wrists. Pink handprints decorate her ass.

A fresh bite darkens the curve of her shoulder. Her hair is wild, her lips swollen, and her thighs visibly tremble whenever she shifts her weight. Callum stands behind her with one hand around her throat. Claiming. The final gold ribbon remains tied around her wrist. I look at him.

“Release her.”

The Scarecrow’s head turns slowly. Sloane touches his wrist.

“It’s okay.”

“No,” I say. “This is a new scene. New consent.”

Dante closes the chapel doors and slides the iron bolt into place. His Devil mask grins beneath the flickering candlelight. Callum’s fingers open. Sloane steps away from him. Only one step, but I see what it costs him to allow even that much distance. I remove my gloves and approach the altar.

“Sloane, look at me.”

Her gaze rises to my skull mask.

“Did Callum respect your boundaries?”

“Yes.”

“Did you use yellow or red?”

“No.”

“Any pain you didn’t request?”

“No.”

“Do you need water?”