Page 21 of The Puppet Master
He’s saying if he fails, he’s prepared to die. That it’s both our lives on the line.
This man doesn’t even know me. And he expects me to believe that?
DoIbelieve that?
“You’d better get started.” I flinch at the bite to Thorne’s words. “Now.”
CHAPTER 5
SAWYER
Iwish I’d seen her eyes before she woke up.
A slice of surveillance footage, a secondhand description, a picture—even taken from afar, even inblack and white—anything to prepare me for the lightest shade of blue I’ve ever seen. So pale that when she stood in the bright sunlight on the hilltop overlooking this unicorn fart of a ‘communal living center,’ they appeared red.
Every time I look at her now, I’m caught off guard.
It’s unsettling.
And her hair… I knew it was blonde bordering on white, but I assumed it was dyed. It isn’t. The only color this woman has is in her rosy cheeks, and even those are hard earned from the run.
I wanted to know why they picked this girl. Now, I understand. Her home life, her career, and her past are irrelevant. She’s an angel that crossed the path of a demon. They want her.
I can’t blame them.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, raising my cheeks with what she’ll interpret as concern. I think. Any other woman, I’d be sure, but this one… I don’t know. Maybe it’s the eyes that are throwing me, making me paranoid, every glance a look inside my mind—fuck maybe mysoul.
It’s the eyes. Just the eyes.
The girl peeks over at Thorne raging in the doorway. He’s pissed to be helping me, but he’ll be glad to know I won’t ask him to again. He’s supposed to appear sick and twisted, a stark contrast to the kind stranger trying to help the new girl. But he can’t get over his annoyance enough to do his job. Every time he speaks, I try not to cringe at how scripted he sounds.
Startling eyes move back to me, but she doesn’t ask why I’m sorry or what’s about to happen to her. I wonder if she already knows.
“I need you to lie down, Luna.”
Her jaw loosens as she sucks in a breath, and it takes everything not to zero in on her bottom lip, soft pink with a strip of red splitting the left side. Like someone hit her—Thorne, I assume.
This is not my island, and she is not mine, but my acting must have bled inward because I feel a twinge of jealousy, a possessiveness seeping from my chest. Inappropriate, uncalled for, but present.
“What?” she asks in the sweetest voice. So scared. So uncertain.
“On the bed.” I nod toward the mattress while frowning so deeply I’m pretty sure I’m overdoing it. I let the corner of my mouth lift a few degrees and wait for her to move.
Predictably, she looks at the doorway that Thorne is blocking. She seeks out the window next, but we’re on the third floor. Too high to jump.
“S-Sawyer.” Her voice is just a soft plea. I’m not even sure Thorne can hear it, but I hope he does. He’s supposed to be pushing this.
I turn to stare at him, arranging my face into something sad while my eyes sharpen with frustration. If I could snap my fingers at him, I would.
He clears his throat like this is harder for him than it is for her. Fucking pussy.
“I don’t have all day, Sawyer. Let’s go.”
“Just give her a little time. A day. Hell, an hour… Please.”
“Now.” His lip curls as his fists clench. “Unless you want me to do it.” He grinds the words out. Like he’d be angry to get to fuck the angel in front of me.
Goddamn it, Thorne, at leasttryto look like a pervert.
