Soulless (Starcrossed Lovers Trilogy 2)

I had a smile on my face as he gurgled his final breath.

I was covered in blood as I left his body on the floor and smoothed my bloodstained jacket down over my chest.

Time to get more closely acquainted with the delightful Margaret.35ElaineLucian’s car pulled up as dawn was just beginning to creep in. The low rumble of the engine woke me from my daze on the sofa, the headlights bright enough in the dark to shine through the window. He was home. My boyfriend was home.

That word was stupid, ridiculous even when it came to the wild, twisted, mad way that I loved Lucian, but I also cherished it. Such a simple, carefree declaration: my boyfriend. Just thinking it made my heart leap.

I was already on my feet and at the front door when he stepped up to the porch. I was all set to dash out and grab him, but I stopped as he came into view under the porch light.

My boyfriend was covered in blood, and it most certainly wasn’t his own. His shirt was splattered, red on white. His jacket was damp and his face was smeared with red to match. His gloved fingers were bloodied around his keys, and his eyes were shining dark. Evil. But not evil at me . . .

I didn’t even know what questions to ask. They were a blubber in my mouth. I stepped back to let him through, and he walked in with purpose and strength, as powerful as I’d ever seen him. Then he smiled. Lucian Morelli, covered in blood, smiled at me.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

He headed straight to the kitchen, flicking on the coffee machine before ditching his gloves in the sink. He got out two mugs and went to work, mute, without offering a single word.

It was me who finally found my voice and asked the most obvious question.

“What happened?”

His eyes were twinkling when they met mine.

“I had some business to attend to.”

“Business?”

He laughed. “Yes, sweetheart, business. Business for you.”

I looked him up and down, still trying to soak in what the hell was happening.

“For me? How the hell could this be for me?”

He leaned against the counter casually, like this wasn’t some kind of alternate dimension of craziness at dawn.

“Well, that depends on who the blood belonged to, doesn’t it?”

I got a shiver all the way through me, because it couldn’t be . . . it couldn’t be from someone who hurt me. But it was. Of course it was. My stomach did the weirdest lurch. My heart was racing at the thought – both excited and scared at once.

“Who was it?” I asked, then took a breath. “Was it Uncle Lionel?”

Even the thought was terrifying—because if it was Uncle Lionel and people knew—if people knew, they would put the pieces together and those pieces would spell MORELLI in huge capital letters, and MORELLI would spell out LUCIAN Morelli the very moment it was said out loud.

Only it wasn’t Uncle Lionel.

“It was Reverend fucking Lynch,” he told me. “I tore the piece of shit apart.”

I stared in shock. Lucian had killed the man who’d prepared me for punishment and made me take it at the hands of other men. My mortal enemy of just a few days ago had ripped apart the man who’d been my true enemy since I was a little girl.

“You killed Reverend Lynch?” I asked him.

He gave me a smirk. “I most certainly killed him, Elaine. I’m sure he was damn well pleased when I did. He was hardly enjoying his last few moments alive, I can promise you that.”

The thought of Reverend Lynch suffering was strangely nice. Even buried after all these years, it was nice to think of him hurting, just like all the times he’d enjoyed my pain. Only he was dead. Lucian had killed him. Reverend Lynch was actually dead.

It shouldn’t have surprised me, because this was Lucian Morelli standing before me, and Lucian Morelli was undoubtedly the most vicious man alive. He hurt people for fun and fascination. He arranged deaths for his own ends, whenever it suited him. What surprised me was that his own hands were dirty, and it was because of me. He’d killed someone for me. Again. He’d killed someone because they’d hurt me.

I’m not sure it was everyone’s traditional idea of boyfriend material but in a fucked-up little part of my soul it sure felt like it to me.

My next words were a whisper as I tried to digest it. “Reverend Lynch is dead.”

Lucian poured my coffee.

“Lynch and the wicked old bitch, Margaret, too. I finished her off with a quick twist of the neck. Hardly torture, but she’s done.”

“You killed Margaret?”

“Of course. I also made sure the girls’ doors were open before I left the place, even though they were sleeping soundly.”

“Wow.” He’d killed them and freed the girls. I smiled at him. Those girls would have been going through so much, just like I was. The monster had freed the victims.