The City of Darkness and Blood

Chapter 24

After a long drive, I finally arrived home with Silver in tow. My house—a tulip cottage painted in dark gray and black—starkly contrasted my new neighborhood's bright, colorful homes. The offers to paint it to blend in were politely declined. The gothic decor reflected who I was, and I had no intention of changing that for anyone. We walked up to the door, and I unlocked it, ushering us inside. I flipped on the lights, revealing the interior: dark blue walls with sconces casting a dim, ambient glow, heavy velvet curtains in a deep burgundy hue drawn tightly against the night. The furniture was dark gray and richly upholstered, absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. A massive dark oak table dominated the center of the room, covered with framed photos of friends and family.

"Nice place you got," Silver said, her eyes roaming over the decor with genuine admiration. She returned to the kitchen with a bottle of blackberry wine and two glasses. She made herself comfortable on the sofa, removing her high heels and setting her purse beside her. I joined her on the sofa, and she poured us a glass of wine. We clinked our glasses and took a sip. The silence between us was heavy, laden with unspoken tension.

"Why become a vigilante?" Silver asked, her voice breaking the quiet.

"That depends—should you care?" I responded with a hint of defensiveness in my tone.

"No, I'm just asking," she said, sipping her wine.

I sighed heavily, the weight of my past pressing down on me. "Two cops harassed me and a friend when we were seventeen, thinking we were doing drugs. I told them off, and they beat us to a bloody pulp. I was in a coma for six weeks."

Silver's eyes widened, though she didn't seem surprised. "Cops... crooked as they come. You should've taught them a lesson."

"I did," I said, bitterness seeping into my voice. "I wore a mask, tracked them down, and beat them with a crowbar. I wanted them to suffer, but I didn't want to kill them."

Silver's eyes took on a dark, intense glow. "Oh, that turns me on," she purred, her voice dripping with both arousal and something darker.

Her reaction threw me. "You're sick," I said, my voice mixed with disbelief and disgust.

Silver's eyes narrowed, her gaze sharpening with a predatory glint as she leaned closer. "It's not sick when I imagine you naked and covered in the blood of your enemies," she said, her voice a sultry whisper as her fingers traced my chest. "And I lick it off your warm, tender body."

The intensity of her words stirred something profound within me, a mix of desire and something darker. Between her, the Mad Butcher, and Caroline Chang, I don't know who's more demented. I mean, Chang is an insane contract killer who specializes in toxins and tried to kill me one time when Tigerman put a bounty on my head. Compared to the Butcher and Silver, Chang is a thousand percent crazy. I pulled away, my focus shifting to my phone for a brief distraction.

Before I could drink from my glass, Silver shoved me, causing the wine to spill on my shirt. "What the hell?" I exclaimed, glaring at her. "Oh, no. You got wine all over yourself," she said, her voice dripping with feigned innocence. "Here, let me get that off." I wasn't in the mood for her antics. "No, I got it," I said, frustration clear in my voice. I set my glass down and began unbuttoning my shirt. Silver's eyes widened as she took in my muscular build. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. I ignored her reaction, grabbing my stained shirt and jacket and heading to my bedroom. I threw them into the laundry bin and stripped off my shoes and pants.

"You are a slab of perfectly marbled hot man meat," Silver flirted, her voice dripping with seduction as she leaned against the door frame.

"Do you mind? I'm changing," I said, irritation evident in my voice. Her seductive smile widened as she entered and closed the door behind her.