Page 3

Poppy

W hy the fuck are there so many people out and about this early? The streets are bustling as I stalk down the sidewalk. I’m a killer on a normal day, but when I’m hungry, my mood is significantly worse.

Most people don’t bother to look at me when I bump into them, on my quest to find the bagel place I read about online. Locals know the more you keep to yourself, the better you are. The only people to shoot me side-eyed glances are obviously tourists.

Tourists are fairly easy to pick out because they don't have anywhere to be. This city is constantly moving, and tourists move slower. You'll find them stopping by a storefront or pulling out their phones to take pictures.

I used to be like them, finding the beauty in the unique architecture or feeling the fascination of the many different cultures that somehow blend together to live synonymously. I don't feel much of anything anymore, with the exception of disgust and rage. It’s taught me how to blend in. So much so that even when I'm not in the city for my annual hunts, I'm thinking about how I can prepare for the next one.

I continue down the street and notice a woman calling out to a young girl. My eyes land on the child running toward me with the woman, who I believe is her mother, waving her arms and trying to chase after her. I step in front of the little girl's path just before she can run past me, making her falter.

"It's not safe to run away from your mommy," I say as she looks up with innocent eyes. With any luck, that innocence will never prematurely know the darkness of the world.

"Valerie, we talked about this!" the woman yells again before leaning down to pick her up.

"Mommy!" The little girl giggles when her mother squeezes her tightly.

"Thank you so much," she tells me, but I can't stop myself from shaking my head with annoyance.

"You should be more careful. There's tons of freaks in this city," I say as I walk away.

I don't have it in me to be kind to her, even if it was an accident. It only takes one wrong move, and some fucking creep has the opportunity he needs to swoop in long enough for her to never see her daughter again. It's just irresponsible.

This encounter reminds me of when I killed Pride.

The snow was heavy due to a superstorm that blew its way through the city. Even with the inclement weather, it didn’t stop the tourists from showing up in full force. New York City on Valentine’s Day is just too tempting, I suppose.

As I walked down the street an altercation between a man in a fancy suit and a mother with a small child caught my attention. The man had his hair slicked back and was pointing a finger in the woman’s face while screaming about how she should've had a better eye on her daughter.

The little girl wasn’t paying attention and bumped into him, scuffing up his shoes. He made sure everyone around could hear about how his shoes probably cost more than she made in a month.

The woman apologized profusely while the man continued blabbing about how expensive his stupid fucking shoes were. As soon as she walked away, he carried on walking down the street, muttering to himself, with me following closely behind.

A woman with long brown curled hair, dressed like a model, walked by and he made sure he hit on her. He tried asking her out, and when she told him no, he said he would buy her whatever she wanted if she agreed to go on a date with him. She said no again and practically ran away. That was all I needed to choose him as the Pride kill.

I secretly followed him, until he took a phone call saying he would meet some girl next to Madison Square Park and made sure I met him there first.

When I did, I praised how he looked and gave him some story about how he would be my hero if he helped me save a kitten from a tree. Fucking idiot. How many kittens do you think are stuck in trees in New York City, in February?

It took a little convincing, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be applauded, so he followed me to where there was enough cover to keep us out of sight.

Once in place, I wasted no time, hitting him with the Taser and stabbing him over and over. All that pride did him no good because his blood stained the snow the same as anyone else's would. We all bleed red. I dropped my rose on his chest and strolled away like nothing happened.

Bringing myself back from my thoughts, I turn the corner, and the bagel shop finally comes into view. I push the door open and step to the counter, completely unsure of what I plan on ordering. Normally when I go to a new place, I study the menu, but my dumbass didn't this time.

My gaze lands on the guy behind the counter, and when my eyes meet his, there’s a strange pang in my chest. The feeling startles me because the last time I felt something like this was the first time I saw Drew. When I look into this man's emerald eyes, I find myself getting lost in them. His mouth tilts up before he chuckles, making me scowl. What the hell is he laughing at?

"How can I help you, cupid?"

I narrow my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. "Cupid?"

"You looked a little lovestruck for a moment." He raises his brows with confidence. This smug bastard.

"I was not," I say way too defensively. I don’t even believe myself.

"If you say so." He laughs again, and this time, I notice the dimples on both sides of his cheeks.

No, stop it , I tell myself and glare in his direction. "I was just trying to figure out what to order. Is this how you treat all of your customers? What would your owner think of that?"

"Only the pretty ones." He steps out of view to fiddle with something. "And I am the owner, so I would say he doesn't mind one bit."

My jaw practically drops to the floor. I would have never guessed he was the owner. "Fine. What do you recommend?"

"Just hang on a sec. I'll give you the best thing this place has to offer. You can thank me for it after."

“Should I be concerned? That sounded kind of forward."

"Get that mind out of the gutter, cupid."

"Stop calling me that," I say as he comes back into view with a sandwich in hand.

"No allergies, right?" he asks.

The question startles me for a moment. He might be the first person to show me even the tiniest bit of concern in years. I'm usually invisible to everyone.

I wish I was still friends with Lilly at times like this. We could gossip about the cute bagel boy, and how this whole conversation is embarrassingly awkward, but I pushed her away. My life isn't important. It's better that my personal things stay on the back burner until I'm able to fulfill my promise to Drew.

"No," I grit out.

"Try this, and if you don't like it, it's free. If you do like it, then you have to meet me at a party tonight because your money's no good here."

"And what if I don't want to meet you at a party tonight?" I counter, refusing to grab the sandwich from his hand just yet.

This could be the perfect opportunity to set up my kill for tomorrow. I could kill him in some dark parking lot after we leave whatever party he wants me to go to, and he proves to be a scumbag. Lust would be the sin to just willingly walk itself directly into my knife.

"It's an 'I hate Valentine's Day’ party if that makes the decision any easier."

"I do hate Valentine's Day," I confess, letting a bit of vulnerability slip out without even thinking. Immediately, I put my walls in place and eye him again.

"Make a choice, cupid," he says while waving the sandwich in my face. "It smells good, doesn't it?"

I reach up and snatch it from his hand. "You don't have a New York accent," I point out as I inspect the strange food.

"Sure don't. I've only been in the city for a few years. I went to college here and decided to stay after graduation. I'm originally from eastern Ohio."

That takes me back a little. Ohio? I suppose this city is full of people from all over, but when you go into bagel shops that are as well-known as this one, they're usually family-owned and passed on from generation to generation. It takes balls to be an outsider trying to open a shop with something this city deems as sacred.

He watches me intently as I bring the sandwich to my mouth for a taste, and when a soft moan leaves me, his gaze flicks to my lips. My eyes widen with immediate regret and I chew as fast as possible.

"So, I take it you enjoyed that bite?" A nice smug tone meets my ears.

Fuck. I hate admitting someone else is right. "It was alright."

"Alright? That moan suggested otherwise."

"I did not moan." A lie, I know.

"You most definitely did, and if there wasn't a counter between us, I might be tempted to do something about it."

"Careful, I'm not like most girls. I will throat punch you before you even see it coming. You would be on the ground begging for me to go easy on you."

"Oh, so you're flirting with me now?" He smirks.

"If you get turned on by violence, then maybe." I shrug.

"It's less about the violence and more about the idea of a woman taking control. You might just be my soulmate."

His confession startles me. "I am not your soulmate."

"If you say so. Anyway, how did the sandwich do?"

"It was fine." I roll my eyes. "What was it?"

"My go-to order. A jalapeno cheddar bagel with pastrami, egg, cheddar cheese, scallion cream cheese, and brown mustard. In other words, an orgasm in your mouth."

"That was not–"

"You moaned." He raises a brow after cutting me off.

My eyes bounce between his. He's so direct. I've never met anyone as bold as him who also has a desire to be submissive. There's a challenge in his eyes, like he's willing me to take the lead, but I'm not here for any of that.

"What's your name?" I ask while taking another bite. It takes all of my willpower to keep myself from moaning again. The explosion of flavor is like nothing I've ever experienced before.

"Corbin." He reaches a hand over the counter, prompting me to shake it.

"Nice to meet you, Corbin. I'm Poppy."

"Well, shit. Now I feel like I missed an opportunity by not giving you a poppy seed bagel. I could have claimed it was fate or something that I gave you the same kind of bread you share a name with."

"I've heard it a thousand times. It never would have worked."

"Good to know." He grins, and those dimples appear again. "Give me an honest review. Did you like it?"

"Honestly? It was the best bagel sandwich I've ever had. Thank you." I take another bite, knowing his eyes are practically burning into my skin.

"You can thank me later at the party."

Crap. I forgot that was part of this little bargain he concocted. The stark reminder jolts me back to reality. I shouldn't be flirting with him. What the hell has gotten into me?

"You wouldn't leave a guy hanging, would you?"

"I absolutely would, but luckily for you, I don't have plans tonight."

"Great, where can I pick you up?"

"How about I meet you there?" I suggest, because I don’t want him coming to my hotel.

"I suppose that will be fine, cupid. At least give me your number so I can check in to make sure you don't leave me high and dry."

"No, I don't think so. You'll just have to hope I'm an honorable woman." I finish off the sandwich, licking my fingers. "If you've got a pen and paper, you can write down the address for me."

"Pen and paper? How old school," he comments as he walks toward the register to pick up a pen. A few scribbles later, a paper is extended in my direction, and I grab it.

"I'll see you tonight. Is there a dress code?"

"Be there at eight, and wear whatever you feel comfortable in." His gaze darkens as his eyes trail down my body.

"Gotcha." I nod and point my finger awkwardly at him before turning to leave. "I'll see you then."

"It'll be the second-best part of my day," he remarks as I walk out the door.

He thinks meeting me somehow made his day better, but that couldn't be any further from the truth. Meeting me sealed his fate. He won't live past Valentine's Day.

Strangely, I find myself hesitating because he hasn't done anything that would warrant being my next victim. Can I kill an innocent person? Will that make me any better than the stranger who killed Drew?

With how flirty the guy is, it will only be a matter of time before he puts his hands on me without my permission. That’s what I allow myself to believe in order to justify saying yes to meeting him at the party.

Doubt begins to consume me, though. Deep down, there’s a part of me that only wants to kill him because he makes me feel something for the first time in years. That thought alone makes this so much more complicated.