Crafted To KILL 7

​"So, Lewis, why Falcon?" Serena asked, her voice light but cutting. "Why the puppet show? You could have just come to me with your contract instead of all the trouble. Why put a middleman in the way?"
​Lewis smirked, not even breaking his stride. "Serena, you know I have always been a fan of the theater. I suppose I'm not the only one."
​Serena shot him a look of pure, unadulterated annoyance.
​"Oh, come now, Serena," he laughed, shaking his head. "You could have killed Falcon at the party and been done with it. Instead, you decided to play a whore named Angelica."
​"Mistress," Serena corrected him, her silver eyes flashing. "And it was Lady Angelica. If you're going to critique my performance, at least get the title right."
​"Right. And what about the Salt Flats? You sat there for hours, letting Falcon think you were being drained, just to see who was coming out of the woodwork." He let out another soft, mocking laugh. "It's your brand, Serena. I enjoy the show. We really aren't that different."
​"I'm nothing like you," she scoffed, her shadows bristling at her heels.
​Lewis fell silent for a minute "Sure. I guess you're right. After all, I have never fallen in love with someone and then killed them just because someone else wanted to be with them." He paused, tilting his head with a cruel, golden glint in his eyes. "Hmm. I haven't done that one yet."
​He waited, the silence stretching between them. "Oh, what? No witty comeback? That one must have stung a little."

​"Then stop trying to convince me you are," Lewis said,
"I have seen the things

you've done. Before Silas, before you found this little family of yours... there were plenty of times you sat back and watched in cold blood as the Object ripped people apart."
​He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper that bypassed her ears and went straight into her mind. "And you enjoyed it.