Page 65 of Cracked Doll

"If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't be letting you take her."

She turns to me, eyes a deep, smouldering cold gray. "Come along, sweet pea."

I look away at once and follow her out. Behind me I hear the soft metallic click of Rhys checking the chamber of his gun.

Chapter 20

The leather seat creaks beneath me as the big black car rolls through the empty streets. The driver stays silent up front, and beside me the succubus sprawls with her legs crossed, black dress hiked up, one arm draped along the back of the seat like she owns the whole bloody car.

She smells good. I notice that again, and I think that's part of the whole succubus. Her smell.

"Why did you choose to be the succubus of The Midnight Menagerie?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her voice slides over my skin like warm honey, even when she speaks casually. "I like seducing and luring men to their doom. Any other job that would give me access to them would get me arrested."

I stare at her. "You're joking."

"The torture chamber should have been a clue, love. This is no bluff."

I swallow hard. "So women with abusive partners come to the coven, and Rhys sends you. You lure those men back to The Midnight Menagerie and then the wife kills the partner in front of the VVIPs?"

"Spot on," she says, her lips curving into something that might be a smile. "They pay a fortune for the privilege of watching justice served. The men never see it coming until the blade is at their throat."

“I don't know if that's extremely heroic or very unhinged. But a man who abuses his partner is scum who doesn't deserve a life.”

"Exactly," she agrees, voice low and approving. "They're fucking parasites."

I shift closer. "Who was that woman watching us through the window on the second floor?"

"Rhys should tell you soon."

I realise I'm not getting answers from her, so I try something else. "How old is Rhys?"

"Are you trying to get information about him from me?"

I nod without shame.

She sighs, almost fond. "Rhys is ten years older than you."

Twenty-nine. The number settles heavy in my chest. He's twenty-nine.

"How tall is he? Exactly."

Her smirk returns. "193 centimetres.”

I picture him towering over me, broad and unyielding.

The car slows in front of The Tin Heart. The door opens and I step out, turning back. "I wish I knew your real name so I don't have to call you succubus."

Her seductive grey eyes hold mine. "That's something you'll have to ask Rhys himself."

I walk to the shop door and get my keys from my pockets. Then something heavy hits the pavement. I spin around.

The succubus stands over a woman, who is sprawled on the ground with a knife still clutched in her hand. The same woman who shot the blonde in Rhys's arms. Her black dress is torn, her hair wild.

"Ran out of bullets?" the succubus drawls.

The woman screams and lunges for me. The succubus moves like smoke, grabbing her wrist and twisting until the knife clatters away. She drives a knee into the woman's stomach, then slams her face-first into the bonnet of the car. Blood sprays across the black paint. The woman thrashes, but the succubus pins her arm behind her back and presses her cheek to the metal.