Page 7 of Mastered by Them (Rose and Dagger #2)

Danica

I ’m falling for two guys. Neither is a safe option.

I tap my pen on my journal, thinking. My shiny engagement ring sparkles on my finger.

I ended up choosing something generic. Plain stone, plain band, no flash.

This is a generic engagement, after all.

Edmund frowned at the bland ring, but because it wasn’t the ugliest, smallest piece in the store, he couldn’t complain.

I think sex in the bathroom calmed us both down, too. It allowed us to reach a compromise without even needing to talk about it.

I shouldn’t let myself fall for him. I put my pen to the paper.

Edmund, while overbearing, says he’s completely on board with a relationship.

Troy, sweet, seems to be pulling back already. Like he thinks the wedding will change things. Maybe it will.

And me? I’m afraid of getting my heart broken…but I think it’s already happening.

“Dani, get in here!” Elias’s voice holds a note of panicked excitement.

“Is it another murder, you psycho?” I call back.

“Shut up and come look!”

Tossing my journal to the side, I ease out of bed in such a way that I don’t disturb Cackle. He sleepily bites the blanket where my foot used to be, but returns to his nap.

“Elias!” I slam open his door. “This better be fucking good, and not some macabre murder porn.”

He doesn’t look up from his laptop. “It’s not porn, God, Danica. Someone was killed and it’s old. Long time ago. No gore, I promise.”

I peer over his shoulder as he replays a news clip. A man in a suit says, “ Here we are at the scene of a very old crime. ”

Something smells like stale popcorn. I sniff. “Elias, when’s the last time you washed this hoodie?”

“I dunno, shhh. Listen to this next part.”

The newscaster continues. “ Just last week, remains were uncovered on the north side of Danish Lake. It has just been confirmed that these are human remains, and authorities are working hard to uncover the identity of the victim .”

“Danish Lake—that’s where we had my engagement party.” I shiver. I remember looking out over the water and thinking about how spooky it was in the dark.

“Well, someone was buried in the mud there.” Elias nods while the newscaster goes on a tangent about Danish Lake. “I think it’s our serial killer.”

“Hold up.” I reach around him to pause the video, which is currently showing nothing but a sunlit, sparkling Danish Lake marred with crime scene tape that looks like it was propped up by the news network, solely for dramatic effect. “Say that again?”

“I think these remains are the work of the serial killer.”

“ What serial killer?”

He widens his eyes at me. “The one from the alley—remember what we saw outside the movie theater last month? You know, the dead body ?”

“First of all, we did not see a dead body.”

Cackle wanders in. He does a stretch next to Elias’s desk chair before leaping up on the desk. Elias tries to guard his laptop keyboard with his arms, but Cackle paws at him.

“Second of all.” I stroke Cackle’s fur. He arches into my touch. “Second of all, that was a single murder. One. Not the work of a ‘serial killer.’”

“The body at the lake makes two.”

“For as much as you study this shit, I’d think you would see the two crimes are entirely unconnected.”

“As of yet, they’re unsolved. That’s one connection. And the next connection just hasn’t been made yet.” He gives me an earnest look. “ I’m going to solve this.”

I bite my tongue. He’s not the smartest guy, but he’s determined as fuck, I’ll give him that. Who am I to dissuade him from his dream?

He leans back, just in time to dodge a swipe from Cackle. “Now, as soon as my guy kills someone else, this case is as good as cracked, and I am in business.”

All my sympathy and goodwill evaporate. “Elias, for fuck’s sake, nobody’s killing people for your entertainment . Stop treating this like some kind of sick reality show.”

I yank on his hoodie string, activating Cackle’s rage. To the sound of Elias’s shrieking, I stomp out of the room and return to my diary.

Elias. Edmund. I pick up my pen and write, Boys whose names start with E are stupid .

* * *

Edmund

I get home sometime around four a.m., absolutely disgusted with how the night went.

I could’ve been taking Danica out for dinner and bringing her home after, but instead I had to tour every single fucking one of our restaurants to get to the bottom of why all our good chefs, bartenders, and servers are disappearing.

Nobody’s being killed, but it turns out they’re all being poached. A new restaurant is going up in the Bellefleur—the worst area of San Esteban. It’s part of some city betterment initiative.

And guess who’s behind the initiative. Perry Fucking Vorsong.

Head of Vorsong Circle. He’s already cozying up with the mayor.

They’ve been going on weekend golf trips for the past month.

Our good friend the mayor won’t be mayor for long if he continues to behave like a snake—he’s been on our payroll for over a decade.

We won him the mayoral election, and this is how he repays us?

Troy stomps off to his room without a word. He’s still pouting about what I told him—Danica will be mine, and only mine, once that marriage license is signed. He doesn’t like it? Too fucking bad. I’m going to have a real marriage, not a sham like my parents have.

I take off my clothes, step into my shower. Hot water cascades over me, warming my blood. A fantasy of Danica pops into my head. How her skin would look against these dark tiles. She was in this shower that night when Troy brought her home out of the rainstorm. She’d been a wreck that night.

This fantasy is different, though. I have her in front of me. She’s happy. She’s facing the wall, arms braced against the tile, ass out. She wiggles it, taunting me. “Are you going to fuck me, Daddy, or are you going to stand there and stare?”

I grip my dick in my hand, wishing this was real.

I could have her screaming in pleasure in seconds, crying out my name and calling me Daddy .

Something I never knew I’d like, but here we are.

She’s my princess. Daddy’s princess. I think about the way she’d shiver at my touch, how her legs would shake and her ass would jiggle with each one of my thrusts.

“That’s right, princess. Take Daddy’s cock like a good girl.” I slide my hand back and forth over my dick, imagining it’s her cunt surrounding me, all velvety heat.

In the fantasy, Troy shows up. Even in my head, he’s interfering.

I’m too turned on, too into my imagination to boot him out of it, so I let it happen.

He gets between Danica and the wall. Picks her up.

I’m no longer in her pussy—he is. I slide into her ass instead.

The two of us stroke in and out until she’s gasping and writhing in our arms.

The moment I hear her scream out her orgasm is the moment I come all over the tile.

I lean a hand against the shower wall, depleted and breathless. “Danica.”

* * *

Danica

I know it’s a nightmare, but I can’t wake myself up. My limbs won’t move, and a vise-like grip holds me by my throat. Firm. Unyielding. I can’t breathe. Mud fills my mouth, my nose. It’s in my ears. I can’t hear.

Please. Please, I don’t want to die. I just want my mom and dad. Where’s Dmitri? Why won’t anyone help me? Where is my brother?

The mud in my mouth tastes rotten, like old vegetation. I want to gag and spit, but I can’t with that heavy grip at my neck.

The mud is slick with liquid. I’m sinking into it. If I could shake off this grip, pull myself out, the nightmare would be over. All I have to do is get away.

But I can’t move . My legs don’t kick like I want them to. My arms are buried.

I’m going to die. Mom! Dad! Dmitri! Help! When I open my mouth to scream for them, more mud spills in. Toxic. Earthy. Rotten.

I wake with a gasp. I want to fling my arms out, to reassure myself that I’m here in my bed, not buried in the mud. But it’s impossible to move. I remain awake but pinned in place for over an hour, waiting for my body to come awake, waiting for the fear to subside, waiting for the nightmare to end.