“Cute dog,” I said, even though the bundle of fluff was baring its fangs. It was small and probably harmless, but I still had to fight my instinct to flee.

“He gets nervous,” Badem said. “Strangers, you know. He doesn’t like them.”

“I have a few questions for you.”

The dog barked again.

“I’ll put him in the bedroom,” Badem said, scooping the pup into his arms. “Then we can talk.”

I walked to the window and stared at the bustling street outside. My first year of school in Berlin, I’d been in Prenzlauer Berg most nights once I discovered it. BDSM clubs were a dime a dozen, but this area was where I’d discovered bloodplay. As often as I could manage, I would pay pretty girls to open my veins. It was how I slipped away. At a certain point, whenever I bled enough, my mind shut down. That was when the voices in my head stopped, when I am full of hidden horrors was silenced. No matter how much I worked with Dr. Haven to recover my memory, I never expected to get those moments back—after all, they were dark voids where time and place had no meaning. That had been the entire point.

I stared out the window, wondering why I’d always been so desperate to escape from myself. In my sessions with Dr. Haven, she’d gently guided me into conversations about my parents and how their divorce and my mother’s subsequent abandonment of Juliet and me had affected us. But I didn’t blame my mother; I believed she’d run away to save herself. My stepmother had said, Marriage to a Thraxton is sheer misery. I didn’t doubt that.

At that moment, I could hear Mirelle’s voice. What could be more romantic than getting married, Theo? Let’s run away and do it. It will be our little secret. I had agreed immediately because I couldn’t imagine life without her. We’d only been together for a short time, but I’d stopped going to clubs because of her; she understood bloodplay and yet was kind and warm and nonjudgmental. But standing in that apartment, overlooking my old bleeding grounds, something about the memory curdled. Mirelle had been everything I wanted, but she never asked for anything back. It was as if she existed for my happiness, and as a young man, I’d accepted that as my due.

Lost as I was in my thoughts, I heard the sharp click behind me and turned away from the window. Mehmet Badem was standing behind me, pointing a gun at my chest.

CHAPTER 29 DEIRDRE

CHAPTER 29

DEIRDRE