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I look down my body, blood trails down my arms, dripping off my finger tips. Ghost’s blade shines brightly in the sun beam streaming through the window, the bright red liquid beading off it like rain on a freshly waxed car. Focusing on his knife in my hand, I find comfort in the weight of it held in my palm. It centres me as chunks of Johnson’s flesh dislodge from my sticky skin, dropping into the blood pool at my feet.

A voice in my subconscious breaks through the silence.You did it. You destroyed that monster. You survived. You ended him before he killed you or another innocent woman. And you liked it. You liked the control. You loved ridding the earth of the filth that infests it like a sickly disease. You’ll do it again. You’ll want to.

It’s all I hear. The voice ringing in my head on an incessant loop mixed with the drip, drip, drip from the blood streaming off me and falling into the lake that’s formed around my feet. It’s enough to drive anyone mad.

The voice starts to work me over, pulling me closer, blocking out everything that isn’t it.I did like it.No, I didn’t. I did it to survive.I did like the control.No, I got lucky because I got the upper hand, because Ghost came to save me.I wanted to kill him.Yes, I did, but not like this.

I start to lose myself in my own mind, listening to the voice.

Until I hear something else…

“Mallory?”

Chapter Thirty-one

Graves

Iknow the second I lock eyes with Ted he’s going to shoot me. Thankfully, the slight turn in my body at the last second threw off his aim, sending the bullet from the .38 he always carries clean through my shoulder at this close of a distance. The wound burns something fierce as I feel the blood soaking into my clothes from the floor beneath me. That stupid, shrimp-dick motherfucker won’t carry a 9mm like everyone else in the department. Nooo, he has to have the bigger weapon. Even if it holds less ammo and is a manual five shot. He just needs to know it’s slightly superior in caliber to everyone else. I should have started carrying my .45 around the precinct, that would have shut him up real fucking fast.

Mallory’s ear-piercing scream breaks through my agony, and panic ravenously worms its way through me. Trying to sit up is a no go, the pain rushing through me almost causing a blackout.

Get up! Get up you useless fuck! What if he’s killing her, and you’re just fucking napping here? GET THE FUCK UP!

Rolling onto my side, the injury repels, but I get my good arm braced under me. Pushing myself up and onto my knees, I cradle my fucked up arm against my chest. Kneeling behind Mallory, I watch entranced as she unleashes every bit of darkness that’s been caged inside her for twenty-five years. She’s wholly mesmerizing, ensnaring me in her enchanting hold for all eternity.

Get him, baby. Make him regret ever looking in your direction.

Mallory loses herself to the bloodlust, completely surrendering to the sinister side of herself. Time no longer has any meaning as she slices and stabs, further mutilating Ted’s unconscious body.

There comes a point when Johnson has long since passed the moment of death, but she’s screaming, crying, and mumbling incoherently. I don’t want to disturb whatever trauma she’s letting go of and working through. She needs this.

Her movements slow then come to a stop. She stands, teetering from side to side. I’m worried she’s about to collapse so I struggle to get my feet under me.

“Baby,” I quietly say, but she doesn’t hear me. Looking at her hands, she begins to shake. A full-body tremor wracks through her, and I’m sure shock is starting to set in. I need her to hear me so she doesn’t have a downward spiral about what she’s done as the killing high wears off.

“Mallory,” I coax, a little louder this time, hoping she’ll hear me over the blood rushing through her ears. She freezes, her entire body still as a statue.

Yes, good. Hear my voice, follow it.

“Mallory,” I repeat firmly. Slowly she turns, taking mein. Completely shocked, she looks back at Ted’s body beneath her then back to me. “It’s okay, baby. Come here.” I wave her towards me with my uninjured arm. She steps over the mangled corpse, almost slipping in the lake of blood that surrounds her. She stands beside Johnson, turning toward me fully, and I can finally see the brutality of her rage.

“I-I-I…” she stutters. Blood and viscera cover her porcelain skin but I’m anything but repulsed. She’s beautiful. My gorgeous, lethal siren. Stronger than I ever imagined. She emerges from this wreckage, just as she did the last one. Mallory’s a phoenix rising from the ashes, and I’m a moth to her deadly flame. A sailor entranced by the beautiful melody of her siren’s song.Drag me to the depths, baby, I’ll never fucking leave you again.

“It’s okay. I don’t care that you killed him. He deserved it. All of it. Just come here so I can fucking hold you.”

She takes a step towards me, then stops. “You’re alive,” she breathes.

“Yes, baby. I’m alive.”

“I thought he killed you.” Her voice cracks, again looking down at the body next to her then back to me.

“He tried to…and he would have if you didn’t stop him. You protected the both of us.” I say, guiltlessly validating her actions. “Now, Mallory, get your damn ass over here.” I growl. Her eyes lock with mine through the mask and her lips quirk up.There she is.“Little siren, now is not the time for games.”

“Why do you get to decide when we play and when we don’t? You’re still hiding from me, even now.”

Fuck. I take a staggering step towards her, then another. It’s a fight to even stand upright. Woozily, I drop to my knees a few paces before her.

“Take it off,” she says flatly, working hard to keep her emotions in check.