Page 35 of Pink Ink

Not one person on the police force has linked the murders together. Yet a twenty-one-year-old film major figured it out. I’d laugh if my sanity didn’t loosen with every second I’m around this woman.

“Why do you call him Böcklin’s Shadow?” I could hazard a guess as to why, but I want to keep hearing her voice.

Reyna fidgets with the weapons in her hands. “He, uh, has a fascination with mortality and how it intertwines with reality. Like the paintingSelf-Portrait with Death Playing the Fiddle. He isn’t murdering for recognition or attention. He’s doing it because he’s an artist, and death is his medium of choice. He’s a man working alongside death himself,” she says. “Plus.” She forces a chuckle. “It was an inside joke with myself that the killer is playing with his victims like a fiddle.” Reyna clears her throat and straightens when I say nothing. “That’s not funny, sorry.”

I stare at her for a beat. Two. Then a third. Taking her in from head to toe and wishing I could delve into her mind and pick at it for hours. Not a single soul has ever understood my motives the way she does.

She’s fucking brilliant. Absolutely, completely, utterly astounding, and—

Reyna Sinaga is just my student.

There’s nothing interesting about her at all.

This is bad.

This is very, very bad.

Why couldn’t she say that she spent two minutes on the internet and chose the first name she saw? How am I meant to dispel her from my mind when she talks about me like I’m a god?

It has to stop. All of it.

“Never look into his murders again, and do not, under any circumstance, visit his crime scenes.”

Reyna jolts back. “What?”

It’s too dangerous—on so many levels. All it would take is for Reyna to stumble upon the wrong Hive-ordered kill, and she could be right intheir crosshairs. As much as I appreciate her admiration of my work, it isn’t worth her getting hurt or murdered over.

Not to mention I need to belessinvolved with her. Speaking to her out in the open is risky enough, but if she keeps talking to me with that husky voice and showing me how phenomenal her mind is, I worry whether my fleeting control will be enough to pull me from the brink.

Reyna will need to stay away for both our sakes. If our only crossover is the classroom, then there will be no reason for her to be anywhere near my periphery, so I can focus on rebuilding my career.

“It ends now. It’s too dangerous for you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

She grips her weapons like she may well use them on me. “I made it this far by myself just fine. I’m aware of the risks and everything that could go wrong. But this is my decision to make.”

For fuck’s sake, I don’t have the time to watch her to make sure she’s keeping in line. The Orderwillcome for her, if they haven’t begun watching her already. Unless I find more hours in the day, the only thing I can do is dissuade her from continuing down this path.

The Order has remained in power for so long because they’ve never hesitated to take someone down. People like my father and the other high saints don’t just play god, theyaregods.

Tech billionaires, real estate moguls, governors—the vice fucking president, they’re all in the Order, and are only where they arebecauseof the Order.

Any one of them could go to the grand magistrate for permission to kill Reyna, and not a single person would bat an eye.

She has no idea what she’s dealing with.

I grab her arm. Her lips part at the contact, and I hate how the sight of it disarms me. Again, my first thought is how badly I wish she weren’t wearing all these layers. The second is a proverbial slap because she’s myfucking student.

“And what if someone kills you?” I snap. Any hope of sounding composed goes out the window.

I drop my hand and take a wide step away. I can’t think clearly when I’m touching her.

Everything about her is messing with me. I was trained better than this—to never let my emotions best me, because showing anything other than rage is a weakness. Yet here I am, showing her all my cards.

She glares at me. Shrugs. “We all die eventually.”