Soulless (Starcrossed Lovers Trilogy 2)

“You’d better behave in the cab,” the monster told me as the rank came into view. “Even so much as a squeak for help will lead to nothing but the death of the driver and your pathetic little gay friend to follow.”

“Don’t insult my intelligence by thinking you have to tell me that. I’m well aware what an evil piece of shit you are, Lucian Morelli.”

His mouth pressed up to my ear. “I’m well aware what a filthy little liar of a bitch you are too, Elaine Constantine. And I’m going to make you fucking suffer for it.”

I shivered as we stepped up to the first cab in the rank. Lucian held the door open for me. What a fucking gentleman. I shuffled along the backseat on instinct as he joined me. I stared out of the window on the other side, looking anywhere but at the man setting out to destroy me.

This would be my final journey. Hard to believe, after all this time of trying, of wanting. But I believed it.

Lucian leaned forward to the driver, keeping himself as low key as possible, no doubt, as he cleared his throat and pasted on a sad little smile.

“Kington Peak,” he said, and my stomach lurched.

Kington Peak, the weird little town outside the city. Quiet. Distant.

Fatal.

Farewell, NYC.

Farewell, world.2LucianElaine Constantine was a little blonde butterfly already driving me insane in that backseat. Her pursed lips were still holding onto her spite, trying to be a little firebrand in my grip. It only made me even more desperate to toy with her.

I knew I was playing a whole new game of crazy when I told the cab driver to head to Kington Peak. It was almost an hour from NYC. I could’ve caged Elaine in my city central apartment for a few long days safely enough without any questioning, and that’s what I should have been going for – a few long days with the butterfly before I ripped her wings off one by one. But I didn’t. My filthy heart wouldn’t let me give up my dirty little plaything so soon. I wanted every damn fucking second with her I could claim.

Kington Peak was the answer. I hadn’t been there in months and generally used it as a personal escape from my social life. Nobody knew it was mine. It was just a shame that it was so far outside of my usual Morelli life. It would take more juggling than I was accustomed to. My time was usually torn heavily between Morelli Holdings and NYC pursuits. Fuck Elaine Constantine and her tempting little ways.

She was watching the city rolling past outside, trying her best to feign disinterest.

“Enjoy your lovely street view,” I told her, and it was my turn to be smirking.

“I will, darling,” she said.

I imagined there were a whole host of insults on her tongue that she chose not to voice to me. She was learning fast. Smart little cookie.

I should have been looking at the view outside myself, and not the pretty little bitch alongside me, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away. Her blonde hair was alive under the glow of the passing streetlights. Her slim delicacy made her look like a porcelain puppet ready to be worked by the puppet master. I was only glad that I was proving to be the puppet master, not the idiotic fucking Power Brothers.

Stupid little dolly, bailing pitiful losers out of their debts. So many druggie fools she was determined to save from the Power Brothers with her cash. Tut, tut, tut. She should have just stuck to funding her own white powder snorting. She wouldn’t have been in such a sorry little state.

“I know you’re looking at me, Lucian,” she said. “I can feel the lust in your eyes.”

She wasn’t wrong.

I didn’t reply.

Even in her fucked-up fear, I knew the thought of me gave her shivers of a whole different kind.

We were magnets, drawn to our vile polarity. Both of us transfixed by the black magic of our flesh. Not to mention she was a dirty bitch.

I could still feel her tight little ass milking my dick dry from where I’d claimed her. Still feel the mix of rage and desire in her. Rage because she thought she was going to get a good fucking for the first time in her sorry life. Desire because she loved it. Loved me fucking her dirty little asshole. I’d been reliving the thrill over and over.

The memory was burned into me – fucking her Constantine ass in a pool of another man’s blood. I’d butchered him for touching her. I knew it would be burnt into her, too. We were both snared with our own mutual hate and filth intertwined. Fuck the whole sorry fucking lot of it. We were both well into the depths of the forbidden from both fucking families. I’d crossed our bridge into punishable by death the very first moment I’d kissed her at Tinsley Constantine’s ball. May as well make the most of the risks and get my twisted thrill from her.