Page 110 of She Haunts Me Still

Mallory gasps as Ezra’s hand hovers over her neck, remembering the agonizing sting from Victor’s touch. “Don’t—”

Ezra’s thumb connects with the marks—but there’s no white-hot spark of pain. Instead, his hand brings a curl of unexpected, feverish pleasure. A flame in her stomach, between her thighs. Burning hotter and hotter as he caresses her swollen skin with those skillful fingers. Confusion consumes her—why is her body betraying her like this, capitulating so readily to something so evil? It’s like his bite woke something inside her that’s just as sinful, and they’ve been tied together since.

Mallory finds Ezra’s eyes in the shadows, fully black now. A latticework of veins erupts around his lashes, pulsing. His mouth has also changed, lips parted to reveal a glint of razor-sharp fangs.

She wonders if she looked like that when her hands were soaked in bunny blood.

Ezra lets out a hungry growl and lowers his mouth to her throat. “You’re going to look so pretty,” the demon purrs, “bleeding just for me.”

Mallory arches her neck obediently, as though attached to puppet strings. Treacherous heat throbs inside her as she anticipates the slice of his fangs, the whisk of that long, coaxing tongue.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises. He brushes a soft kiss over the puncture wounds. “This will be over soon.”

She sighs as he strokes her neck with the blade, running it lower and lower with each pass. Parting her coat. Tracing her breasts, the space between them. Herheart. She hardly notices.This will be over soon. Her mother said that once. On a beach, near a towering bonfire licking the night sky. Kikihad been there, too. Kiki, with her golden curls and bruised limbs. Tears gather in Mallory’s eyes as she thinks about her mother in that white dress, the way she whispered those promises into the salt-drenched air.It will all be over soon, it will all be—

Ezra eases his fangs into their rightful spot with a groan. Mallory’s lashes flutter—

Just in time to catch something barreling into Ezra’s shoulder from the other side.

He sails to the ground. The knife falls, and the other person snatches it without missing a beat. It takes Mallory several tries to blink her eyes into focus.

Saskia.

“Touch her again,” Saskia snaps, hovering over Ezra, “and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Ezra stares up at her, coat spread beneath him, long legs strewn amid dead leaves. For a second, he almost looks like himself again. But when he speaks, the demon’s voice seems to blend with his own, fangs catching the moon as he smiles.

“Evening,Saskia.”

Saskia’s eyes widen briefly at the low rattle in his tone, but then she points the knife closer. “Did you hear me? You’re going to leave Mal alone. You’renevergoing to touch her again. Is that clear?”

Ezra sits up slowly, elbows resting on his knees. He rubs at the cut on his throat, completely unfazed by the blade inches from his face.

“Is that clear?” Saskia repeats, and Mallory’s chest tightens as she hears it: the small crack in Saskia’s question, unveiling the fear that’s starting to slip through.

Ezra notices, too, that catlike smile deepening.

“PoorSaskia.” He reaches up to skim his fingers over her white hair. “Tryingsohardtobebrave,tobetheknightinshiningarmor.” He cups her cheek, tapping the side of it like someone might do to a child. “Didn’tanyoneevertellyou?Youcan’trescuesomeonewhodoesn’twanttobesaved.”

Saskia slowly looks at Mallory. And there’s something about her stare, the questions buried in it, that forces her to turn away. She thinks about Ezra’s cinnamon-slick blood in her mouth, the way his hands on her neck filled her with desire. How, moments ago, she was seconds away from letting him consume her. Perhaps it’s not that she doesn’t want to be saved, but that she’s too far gone to even be found at all.

Ezra stands, raising the collar of his coat. “Besides,” he continues, in his normal voice now, “it’s already done.”

At that, Saskia scrambles to her feet and Mallory steps away from the thorny greens.

“What’s already done?” Mallory asks, and Saskia snatches her hand.

Shadows gather like storm clouds beneath Ezra’s cheekbones. His eyes, lingering between black and green, are blank as he stares down at them. He looks every bit the undead thing that’s been taking up residence inside him.

“What’s already done?” Mallory repeats, voice lowering.

But he only turns away, coattails swirling like a raven’s wing.

“Ezra!” she shouts, his name swallowed by a bite of wind.

He throws her an unreadable glance over his shoulder. The night seems to consume him, his silhouette disappearing into the blackened sky.

“Better get some sleep, Jules,” Ezra calls. “Hell Week may be over, but there’s a reckoning still to come.”