16. INSTINCT

16

INSTINCT

YARA

I t was a good morning.

Detective Rosario had taken the threads I gave him so diligently until he was in front of Millicent Wark’s door. It took him a while to find the knife I had discarded in her neighbor’s yard, but they eventually found it. Millicent’s fingerprints on the murder weapon and a trace amount of Victor’s blood were the ultimate piece of the puzzle, and she was done for.

Fucking perfect!

“Thank you for doing the rest of my work, Detective.” I wanted to dance. The feeling of exhilaration was another thing I loved about killing. I took a bite of my dark chocolate, whistling under my breath. “And that’s a wrap, ladies and gentlemen,” I whispered, feeling invincible.

Every death gave me power. Every death quietened the little girl screaming inside me with fear. She was safe now, comfortably hiding under her blanket.

“Now for the next victim—hmm… who should we choose, Kat?” I tapped my metallic silver heel on the floor, taking another bite of the dark chocolate I always kept with me. “How about this pedophile who was—”

I stopped talking when I heard a gentle rap, followed by a voice. “Doctor West?” Detective Rishi Patel called.

I quickly closed my laptop, tapping my finger against the table as I looked up. “Come in, Detective.”

“Thanks, Doctor West.” The door opened to reveal Rishi, tall, handsome, and disheveled.

“Detective Patel? Is something wrong?” I stood up from my chair and walked toward him. He gave me a strange little smile… he was nervous.

“You know the favor we talked about…”

He kept looking at me like he was afraid I might kick him in his ass. I had known Detective Patel since the time I joined as Doctor Mikael’s assistant, and the detective was calm and composed most of the time, even in the face of the most twisted cases.

“You know, I don’t bite. But I might use the rib spreader,” I said with a chuckle. He paled. “I’m kidding, Detective. I only use my tools on dead bodies.” And assholes who deserve it.

He cleared his throat, looking almost desperate.

“A friend of mine… wishes to discuss Victor Bane’s autopsy report with you.” The detective’s voice trailed off as he shifted from one leg to another nervously.

“What about it?” I said as I narrowed my eyes, and he uneasily shifted from one foot to the other.

“I told him your autopsy report is bullshit.” The door swung open, and in walked Ryden fucking Sinclair in all his damaged, twisted glory and with that sexy-as-sin scar on his lower lip.

My body tensed.

Hell. What’s he doing here? Kat hissed. This isn’t part of the plan.

I had considered every scenario about how our meeting would finally happen, but I never imagined him barging into my life like this. I wasn’t ready for him, ready for this.

He was wearing a crisp white shirt, with his sleeves rolled to his elbows once again, showing off his hard muscles and the tattoo of the snakes and blood-red roses.

I no longer felt invincible. I felt nervous, like a fucking schoolgirl with her first crush. His eyes were flashing, and my heart was a chaotic mess—it was usually quiet, even when I was cutting someone into pieces.

“You—” I stopped when he narrowed his eyes.

The air was charged with tension as I looked into Ryden’s dark gray eyes, gray like overcast skies, gray like the edges where the dawn and dusk met. One could easily get lost and never be found again in those eyes. Not me. I had no intention of getting lost.

Get yourself together, Yara. You can’t let him see how affected you are, Kat whispered in my head.

I knew it, but it was hard to regulate the irregular beats of my heart. The loud ringing in my ears grew until I was drowning in it.

No. No. He couldn’t just stroll into my world, confident, self-assured, and then shake me. I was biding my time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. I had plotted every detail about the encounter that would happen—it would happen precisely when I desired it to. I wanted everything to be on my terms, but… now…

This was my perfect world, the one not corrupted by my skewed proclivities. I was planning to keep him away from the world where I was Doctor Yara West.

Everything in my life had always been tidily packed in perfect boxes, and I wanted him in a separate box, where this life and that one didn’t come together, and he had fucked it up by storming into my workplace.

“Nothing in your report makes sense, Doctor West,” he said, his eyes domineering, peering into mine, cutting, searching.

If he was trying to make me nervous by acting all high and mighty, he could go fuck himself. I had been standing in front of men like him and taking them down since I was thirteen. “Your report is full of holes the size of watermelons.”

Fucking watermelons? I hated watermelons, too.

That day, four years ago, Katelyn went to buy watermelons for me because I was in the mood for them, and she never came back home. Her body was found a few days later, bruised and bloodless. Strangled.

Shaking my head to expel the image of Kat and the pang of anger and sadness it brought me, I turned toward Ryden.

“Shit,” Detective Rishi cursed, glaring at Ryden, but Ryden wasn’t looking at the detective. His eyes were only on me, never moving, watching, studying.

“He didn’t mean it.” Detective Rishi’s voice was so faint.

“Wha-what?” I stuttered, my heart disarrayed, my mind blurring from the unexpected onslaught of nervousness I had never experienced.

Everything was tearing apart, ripping at the seams, and out came the emotions pouring in waves—feelings I would rather not feel. This almost felt like desperation and weakness. I decided I hated those feelings. It had been a while since I felt them.

The last time was with my father… when he’d walk into my room late at night. I shook my head. No, I’d never give anyone that kind of power over me.

You’re a million steps ahead of him, Yara.

“His death wasn’t a crime of passion. It’s—” he started.

It took me a considerable amount of time to regain composure, to bring myself back to normal, or at least a semblance of what could pass for normal in my world.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” I said with a scoff. He took a startled step back.

Sharp, astute eyes studied me like I was something from a museum, trying to decipher me.

“What did you just say?” he asked, and his pulse ticked at the side of his clenched jaw. I pushed my sweaty palms inside my lab coat and stared at him—I was a strong, confident woman, and he couldn’t shake me. Fuck, he did shake me.

It was illegal. He looked like a masterpiece carved by the most skilled sculptors until he was made to become perfection, capable of driving any woman to the brink of obsession.

But behind the perfection, I found the flaws, and it only made him even more powerful. I saw the small scar down his lower lips and the slightly crooked nose. I saw the darkness lingering behind those shrewd eyes.

“I said shut up, Mr. Sinclair. You heard me. Don’t come into my place of work and criticize me. You need my help? Then act like it,” I said, staring straight into his eyes.

He wanted to make me submit to him. I’d only submit to him in one place, and this wasn’t it.

I saw the snarl of the animal he carefully kept hidden underneath his skin—the animal he let out only during the kill.

“I wouldn’t have needed your help if you had—”

“Beggars, they say, can’t be fucking choosers,” I said with a bright smile—he might as well fucking go blind.

His mouth went into an O, and his eyes smoldered. The scorching intensity of his gaze paralyzed my lungs for a millisecond.

I felt the darkness seeping out of him in waves, and it coated my skin with the stark reality. This man could hurt me if he wanted, but I could do the same to him. I knew what he hid, and my strength stemmed from the knowledge he lacked.

He growled. He fucking growled. I saw the tiny cracks in his mask. The control slipped. Oh, I didn’t think it would be so easy to rile him.

Curious.

“You said you’d behave, Sinclair,” Detective Rishi said with a disappointed frown, punching him on his shoulder. The easy camaraderie between the two of them made me frown. I wondered how he could be friends with a cop after carving a man within an inch of his existence.

Ryden shrugged and gave me a smirk. He had let one moment of his anger spoil his mask, but now he was back. “She looks like she can take it.” His smile creased his eyes at the sides, transforming him into someone accessible.

“I can take it, but can you?” I gave him a challenging look, which he returned with a devilish grin.

“You know your report is ludicrous, Doctor West. The one responsible for Victor Bane’s death didn’t act on a mere impulse. It wasn’t a crime of passion. It was premeditated. Millicent couldn’t be that killer.”

“I could argue that your report on The Abstract Killer is nothing short of absurdity.” He stilled for a second, his eyes wide with something I couldn’t pinpoint. “However, I won’t ever say such a preposterous thing. I’m not a journalist, and it’d be foolish to make such a statement to someone of your professional caliber, Mr. Sinclair.” I bared my teeth at him, my smile shark-like.

“Ha! You just said it and then promptly went to make me look like a fool. I must admit, Red, you have a knack for subtle barbs,” he remarked, his eyes crinkling at the sides in a hint of amusement.

Did he just fucking call me Red like it was the most natural thing to do?

It must be one of his strategies to keep his opponent nervous.

I was momentarily distracted, but this was a game, and he wasn’t going to win. I batted my eyelashes, giving him my most innocent smile.

Men found me irresistible. Even though Ryden wasn’t like most men, perhaps he wouldn’t be that different. Even when they sensed danger, they willingly placed their trust in me when I fluttered my eyes and offered my most beguiling smile.

“Did I?” I hummed.

Victor was a piece of utter shit, and I was glad I took him out from the streets of Detroit. Ryden looked sharp as a tack, and I wondered if he’d fall for my lies just as easily as Detective Rosario had.

I had stumbled upon Victor accidentally when the dead body of Rebecca, was brought into my office. While doing an autopsy, I learned that she had tried to abort the child by means that weren’t safe. I had to cut the five-month-old fetus from her womb. The detectives ruled it out as a fatal accident, but the demons in me told me that there was more. When the inkling came, it only stopped with the truth. Digging deeper led me to Millicent Wark and, ultimately, to Victor.

“Ah, I forgot that you could take care of yourself, Doctor West. I have to leave now,” Detective Patel said with a smile in my direction and then glared at Ryden. “Behave.”

“I have to leave, too, Mr. Sinclair.” I looked at Ryden, my eyes challenging him, and he let out a loud breath, eyes darkening. “I’ve got something important to do. I can’t help you today.”

It was my power move.

Let’s see how he chose to move his piece now.

“No, you don’t. Your eyes are so damn honest, even when you’re lying…” he said, staring into my eyes. “So fucking gold.” It was like he was cursing my eyes. “Come, Doctor West. I’ll buy you a coffee, and we can talk about what a fool I am.”