Kissed by the Killer

Chapter Six: Between Desire and Doom.

Violet Virgilson.

The words clung to me long after Vincent spoke them:

"Secrets have a way of coming out. And when they do, they can destroy everything."

Destroy everything.

The warning pressed down on my chest like a hand refusing to let me breathe. I sat in the dim apartment, the hum of the fridge buzzing like a countdown to disaster.

Vincent looked carved from shadows and arrogance, sprawled on the couch with his gun nearby, his shirt still faintly stained with blood. He was chaos in human form, and yet-God help me-every glance at him set something in me alight I couldn't extinguish.

Caroline's words echoed in my head. Caroline-his girlfriend, the one who looked at me like I was a disease she wanted eradicated. Her warning earlier had been a dagger dipped in poison:

"Be careful, Violet, or the dangerous dragon will drag you down with him."

She'd smiled sweetly when she said it, but I saw the claws behind the smile. She wasn't protecting me. She was warning me off. Claiming her territory. And here I was, sitting in the dragon's lair, dangerously close to being scorched alive.

I stood, pacing toward the window. The city lights blinked like watchful eyes. My reflection in the glass looked strange-drawn, restless, caught between fear and something far more treacherous: longing.

"Stop pacing," Vincent muttered. "You're wearing a hole in my floor."

I spun on him, hands on hips. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want me to sit quietly while you brood like some tragic anti-hero in a soap opera rerun?"

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Tragic anti-hero, huh? Flattering."

"Infuriating," I corrected.

He rose, slow and deliberate, every movement calculated to taunt. "You know what's ridiculous? That you keep pretending you hate having me here, when we both know your pulse is betraying you."

My heart thudded traitorously. "Oh please. You think every woman swoons when you breathe in her direction?"

He stepped closer, shadows clinging to him like they were afraid to let go. His voice dropped. "No. Just you."

My breath caught. For a terrifying, dizzying second, I thought he might close the space between us-and I hated how badly part of me wanted him to.

But then-

A sound. Outside. Sharp. Metallic. Footsteps scraping against the fire escape.

Vincent's mood shifted instantly. Predator. He grabbed his gun, yanking me behind him so fast I lost balance.

"Stay behind me," he hissed.

"Like hell," I whispered back, adrenaline burning.

"Not a debate, Violet."

The window rattled. A figure tried to climb in. Vincent's bullet shattered the frame, missing the intruder's skull by an inch. The man cursed, scrambled back down the fire escape, and vanished into the night.

Silence slammed into the room.

Vincent lowered his gun, shoulders tense. "They're watching us."

"They were here." My hand pressed to my chest.

"This is why I told you to stay behind me," he snapped.

"Oh forgive me for not wanting to play damsel while you reenact James Bond!" My laugh cracked, part hysteria, part defiance.

He didn't laugh. He closed the space between us, anger radiating off him. "Do you get it now, Violet? This isn't a game. Staying near me isn't just dangerous-it's a death wish."

"And leaving you?" I shot back. "What then? You think I'll be safe with Rudolpho breathing down my neck? Or Marco sending me pretty little death threats?"

The silence stretched, sharp as glass. His eyes softened, just barely, and that was somehow worse than his fury.

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear with gentleness that nearly undid me. "You're in this because of me. And I don't know if that makes me selfish... or a monster."

"Maybe both," I whispered.

The pull between us was unbearable. His hand hovered by my cheek, my fists clenched at my sides.

But then-

My phone buzzed.

I jumped, fumbling it out of my pocket. Caroline's name glowed on the screen. I swiped. "Caroline?"

Her voice was frantic, trembling but sharp as glass. Performative panic.

"Violet, where are you?! Be careful-or the dangerous dragon will drag you down with him!"

I froze. The dragon. She said it again. Louder. Like a curse-or worse, a warning meant to drive me away.

I glanced at Vincent. His eyes narrowed, sharp as steel.

"Caroline," I whispered, "what do you mean?"

The line went dead.

---

Vincent Virenson

Her hands shook as she lowered the phone. She tried to hide it, but I saw. I always saw. Fear. Desire. Fury. Violet was a storm wrapped in silk, and standing too close meant drowning-or burning.

And damn me, but I wanted to dive headfirst.

My girlfriend's words still echoed between us: the dangerous dragon will drag you down with him. Cute. Poetic. Wrong.

I wasn't a dragon. Dragons hoarded gold. I hoarded sins.

And Caroline? She wasn't warning Violet to save her. She was warning her to push her out. To mark territory. To make sure no other woman tried to tame me.

I shoved the gun into my holster, stalking closer. "Who the hell was that?"

"Caroline," Violet whispered. "Your girlfriend. She... she knows something."

"She knows me." My gaze burned into hers. "What exactly has she told you, Violet?"

Her lips parted, then clamped shut. A secret. She was holding something back.

"Violet." My voice dropped, dark and warning. "Don't lie to me."

She lifted her chin, fire blazing. "What will you do if I do? Kill me too?"

The words sliced deep. My jaw clenched. "Don't joke about that."

"Why not?" she snapped. "You've killed before. Everyone knows it. Including me."

I pressed her against the wall, close enough that the air crackled. "Yes. I've killed before. But never you. Never you."

Her chest rose and fell against mine, her eyes locked on mine like a dare. Like she wanted to know if the dragon would burn her-or save her.

I wanted to kiss her. God help me, I wanted to claim her. But not yet. Not until she stopped looking at me like I was both executioner and salvation.

"Violet," I murmured, "you're playing with fire."

She laughed, breathless, broken. "Then maybe I want to burn."

And that was when it hit me. Desire and doom weren't opposites. They were the same damn thing.

But before I could say it-

A knock thundered at the door.

Not just once. Again. Louder.

Violet flinched. My hand tightened on my gun.

Her voice was a whisper, trembling. "Vincent... who is it?"