Page 121 of Carnal Urges

His voice hardens. “Sloane. Do it.”

“You want this knife? Come and get it. I’ll bury it in your fucking skull, you savage.That man is your friend.”

Breathing hard, I stare at him. No one else in the room moves a muscle or makes a sound.

He says, “You misunderstand. I don’t have friends. Spider works for me. He disobeyed my orders. And in our world, disobedience comes with consequences.”

From the corner of my eye, I see one of the men curl his hand into a fist.

Two of the fingers on that fist are missing.

A blinding flash of fury engulfs me. I’m sick, too, and horrified, but mostly furious. My voice shaking, I say, “Then let me pay the consequences for them. This was my idea. Punish me instead.”

The silence is profound. It’s like the vast, echoing silence of a cathedral, one that’s been abandoned to ghosts for a hundred years.

“Please, Declan. Please.”

His eyes burn. His nostrils flare. When he draws a slow breath, I think he’s considering it.

So I do the only thing I can think of that will tip him over the edge.

I sink to my knees on the floor.

In front of everyone.

I feel their shock. Feel it expand when I lean over and flatten my shaking hand against the lovely limestone tile. Feel it explode into panic when I grip the knife in my other hand and grit my teeth in determination.

I never realized how small a pinkie finger is. Maybe I won’t even miss it.

Wondering if Declan keeps all his severed trophy fingers in a jar in a drawer in his desk, I take a breath and press down.

THIRTY-TWO

SLOANE

There’s a flash of black in my peripheral vision, then Declan kicks the knife away.

He grabs me and drags me to my feet. He throws his arms around me and crushes me against his chest, cursing.

“Bloody stubborn woman,” he rasps, giving me a hard shake. “Jesus, Mary, and fucking Joseph, you’re bloody mad!”

He takes my face in his hands and kisses me ravenously. I let him, curling my shaking hands into his jacket and trying to remain standing, though my legs are shaking, too.

When we come up for air, the kitchen is empty except for the two of us.

“Goddammit, Sloane.Goddammit.”

He slides his hands into my hair and grips my skull. He gives me another shake, his chest heaving. Then he presses his forehead to mine and closes his eyes, exhaling hard.

“Don’t you ever fucking scare me like that again.”

I can’t help it. I start to weakly laugh.

“I’m bloody serious!”

“You’re bloody nuts.”

“I’mnuts? You were about to cut off your finger for a man you barely know!”