Page 26 of The Vixen

“You’re talented, Sawyer. With you, there is a chance for harmony. Without you, The Shadow Sanctum becomes little more than a breeding farm—raping girls and chaining them to bedposts until viable offspring pop out. That is thelastthing that I want my home to become, and the last thing I wantmyselfto become. Despite what you think, I do feel compassion. I’m not a monster.”

No movement.

“But my people require new blood. So…” I splay my palms, shoulders lifting. “I suppose we must work with the skills we have. When the women from your island arrive, I’ll be sure to tell them you were noble.”

Movement.

A moment stretches while life churns behind Sawyer’s eyes, a gentle crease forming between his brows. “What?”

I lean forward ever so slightly and mimic that gentle confusion. “Hmm?”

“What do you mean ‘when the women from my island get here?’ How many times do I have to say, I’m not giving you their names.”

“I have their names.” I smile, not quite evil but amused. “The whole world has their names. Granted, it isn’t the list I want. I prefer the unidentified women, but I’m not just going to go snatching runaways from under overpasses. I tried that already.”

Movement.

But no response.

“Since these are the women who came forward about you, I imagine they’re the ones best primed for rape. And the ones you’re not so protective of.”

He huffs. Shakes his head. Stares. “You’re bluffing.”

Correct.

“Marianne McDonald. Twenty-two. Heroin addict. Mother of one.”

Sawyer’s face falls.

“Annabelle Storm. Thirty-six. Heroin addict. Mother of two… Good for you for not being ageist.”

I hold up three fingers. “Iris Clampton. Twenty-nine, heroin addict, mother of one. Am I sensing a pattern?”

I blow out a breath and hold up a fourth finger. “Jaqueline Ki?—”

“Stop.”

My brows raise while Sawyer’s throat contracts, his eyelids fluttering closed. A breath sits heavy in my lungs, but instead of sighing, I let it out in a slow, shallow exhale.

Thank God.

“You’ve made your point.” His eyes open. “You’ve done your research. Iseriouslyfucking doubt you’d go through the troubleof tracking down women who have already proven to be poor candidates. But that’s your bluff. Cool.”

“You want to call it?”

He looks off, his clenched jaw the only sign of anger.

A minute crawls by while I watch. Wait.

“Most of what I do is online. I wouldn’t need to be here to help you. If you paid me well enough, I?—”

“Please.” I hold up a hand. “Don’t insult my intelligence. If you leave, I will never hear from you again.”

Another minute. He sighs.

“You should know that the more you torture me, the more motivated I’m going to be to search for a way out.”

“There is no way out.” I swallow a lump that tries to form and shift on the bench, uncrossing my arms to lay my hands on my thighs. “Zephyr is… She’s dead.”