I stared down at her answers on the computer, enjoying every one of them. She’d answered honestly, which hadn’t surprised me. So many lied on their applications, fearful of retribution.

  Not my girl.

  She’d owned up to her kinky desires even if only for this exercise and while hiding behind a computer screen. Soon she’d feel free to expose the woman under the polished and practiced coat she’d attempted to keep secured around her. Perhaps she’d even shout to the world that she was born of sin and had been kept in the shadows, but would accept punishment for her cravings no longer.

  I scrolled through her answers. There was almost nothing she hadn’t accepted as tolerable.

  That left the playing field wide open. Every adventure awaited her.

  I backed away from the computer, allowing my eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. I’d learned every inch of her home, appreciating the way she kept everything in perfect condition, completely organized and clean. I’d gone through her things, touching her clothes. Her pictures.

  Her lingerie.

  That had allowed me to form a perfect picture of her I would carry with me after leaving here tonight. I’d need to play this out as planned, even if my hunger had reached a pinnacle.

  Being able to walk freely in her home was a gift. It was also a risk, but one I’d been willing to accept. She was too important to screw this up.

  As soon as I walked into her room, I took a deep whiff. Her perfume lingered, a spicier representation of the woman hiding behind jeans and sweaters most of the time. I longed to see her shapely figure in a body-fitting dress. Call me sexist, but I preferred when beautiful women allowed their bodies to be seen, and later to be unwrapped as the perfect gift.

  She was lying peacefully, the only light from a small hummingbird-shaped nightlight. Her long hair was splayed out across her pillows and she was breathing easily. She looked so innocent when she was asleep, as if a princess waiting for her prince to kiss her soft lips.

  The idea was tempting, but I’d consider it forbidden for tonight. At least I’d enjoyed a single taste of her. Soon there would be more.

  I moved closer, remaining as silent as I’d been the entire time I’d been inside her house. As I peered down at her, I felt a sense of protectiveness, a need to keep her from harm’s way.

  Some would say given my raging desires that should include protection from the man standing in her room like a vulture. No one understood my intentions.

  I glanced around the room, noticing a mostly empty wine bottle on a small table. Moving forward, I decided to make myself at home. Watching her brought great joy.

  I sat in the comfy chair in the corner of a darkened room, enjoying a moment of peace while studying the beautiful copper-haired girl as she succumbed to sleep. I took a deep breath, holding in the incredible sweet fragrance of her lush body.

  A single, muted moan slipped past her full lips as she rolled over, kicking one leg from under the covers. My cock remained at full attention as I studied the long line of her bare leg. Wearing only a tee shirt and panties, the shirt had been pushed up past her waist, exposing the blush pink of lace covering her pussy.

  If I were truly an evil man, I would touch her in her most intimate place, but that would wait. The anticipation was worth me keeping a sense of patience. Not that I was very good at doing so.

  I casually pulled the glass of wine to my lips, taking a swallow. While the vintage was cheap, at least the deep cabernet afforded me another clue about her. After placing the glass on her tiny table she had dressed up in lace, I leaned back. Thankfully, the chair was comfortable, soft in all the right places.

  With my eyes closed, I was better able to envision her naked body writhing underneath mine. Only then would I hear and enjoy her subtle yet powerful moans as I fucked her long and hard.

  Which is exactly what I intended on doing.

  Soon, my sweet Desdemona.

  The memories of the night shared were delicious, but not nearly satisfying enough. Fate had intervened. Perhaps timing. I’d been in the right place at the right time. I’d smelled the bastard’s intentions.

  Kidnap. Torture. Kill.

  A man cut from the same cloth yet sloppy in his methods. Now he didn’t need to worry about it.

  I’d been waiting for her, for the sweet Desdemona who fantasized about bad men stalking and hunting her, capturing her to serve their perverted needs. I’d seen her eyes fill with hate, yet she’d fed off the rage and desire coursing through her vein. Had murder been in her list of hungers? Not necessarily, but even online I’d witnessed a need as complex and damaged as my own.

  She’d wanted me to find her, forcing her to beg for what she wanted. That couldn’t come soon enough.

  After all this time, she thought I had no clue about her, no understanding of who she was or any aspect of her day-to-day life.

  But she was wrong.

  The moment Desdemona had captured my attention I’d sought to learn more about her, to discover exactly what made her tick.

  Besides the intense longing for a masked man to free her soul.

  Jessica lived a careful life, a studious one as well. She worked long hours on perfecting her craft. She had few friends, but they were close, tight enough to tell each other everything.

  Well, almost everything. I allowed myself a slow, deep growl from the thought.

  No one knew of Jessica’s inner thoughts. But me. I felt special in a way I never had before.

  In a way, she’d been tempting every man in every vile game she’d conquered. She was excellent, using every attribute in winning the game.

  The males had eaten it up as if hand fed.

  But they had no right to her. Not under any circumstances.

  Why?

  Because I’d laid claim. No other man had attempted to locate her in real life because no one was capable of what I could do. No man had the courage or strength, let alone the savvy.

  Hearing a rustling sound, I opened my eyes, peering at her with all the longing I’d experienced before.

  I stood, keeping my distance until she settled down before approaching. This time I allowed myself a single touch, brushing the tips of my gloved fingers down the length of her arm. Being able to stroke her soft skin was a true gift. She was in REM sleep, her eyes drifting back and forth under her closed eyelids. Was she thinking about me? Was she dreaming about the other night and how it could have gone?

  Was she wishing she’d begged me to fuck her?

  Jessica kicked at her covers, twisting her body until her legs were free. With no moonlight, I wasn’t gifted with seeing if her panties were damp, but I didn’t need the light. I was able to smell her desire. How I longed to drive my fingers through the thin material, providing her with a mere taste of pleasure.

  I brushed my knuckles across her cheek and backed away into the shadows just as her eyelids fluttered open. There was nothing to see, no glowing light of a masked man who’d ignited her senses. There was only darkness as well as a prevailing feeling that someone was watching her.

  Waiting.

  Wanting.

  Turning slowly, I walked toward the door, rewarded with the sound of her intense moan.

  My sweet… sweet Desdemona.

  CHAPTER 10

  Xander

  “Were you a good boy all weekend long?” Wilder had a way of making the most obnoxious entrance. He closed the door behind him.

  “Define good, and you’re acting like you got laid,” I retorted.

  “Maybe I did. Maybe you should try it.”

  “I spent the weekend going over our marketing campaign. Not bad, but not great.”

  “What would you suggest? It’s funny how you dismiss the strong urges I know exist in you.”

  Urges. He had no idea just how strong they were. The darkness could only be restrained for so long. I sat back, holding my arms behind my head, a huge grin popping across my face. “Something more provocative and my life is my life. Fuck the entire female population if that makes you feel better.”

  “You’re in a shitty mood. Whips, chains, and chainsaws?” He was gloating.

  My thoughts drifted briefly to the sheer entertainment I’d had a week before. It seemed impossible I’d allowed eight full days to go by without tasting her again. Had she felt me inside that dark theater? Had she known I’d been sitting right behind her as she sucked up every detail, enjoying every gory moment? “Something like that. Why don’t you get to it and I’ll handle the society this time.”

  “No wonder you’re acting like a shithead. You’re joining the game. Aren’t you?” he asked while half laughing. Another two and a half days had passed since being inside Jessica’s home. Almost three days of being unable to toy with her in any manner. I’d grown frustrated, almost resorting to hunting for some random filth to ease my lack of patience.

  She’d found the courage to send in the questionnaire and had easily been selected by the three of us as a perfect candidate.

  Eleven men and twelve women had been chosen, several of the men already employees in various positions, but none on the executive level. We didn’t preclude female employees. It just so happened this year there hadn’t been any. Did that mean any of them would reach the final? No. We had a strict criterion that had worked. More than half usually dropped or didn’t make it.

  But my Desdemona would. I’d see to it.

  I looked up from my computer, trying to keep the Cheshire grin off my face. “What if I am?”

  “I just don’t think that’s a good idea. That’s why.”

  “You don’t think I can handle the pressure?”

  “I don’t think any of the candidates are in this to be broken like a china doll.”

  “I have no intention of hurting anyone, at least more than they want to be hurt, of course.” I could almost taste Desdemona’s excitement the moment I’d used the switch on her. I’d found it difficult to control my actions given my blue balls.

  Wilder glanced away. “You’re a dangerous man.”

  “And you aren’t? What is your big concern here?”

  “Your fixation on one woman. That’s what. Did you check out her background?”

  “What would it matter?”

  He slammed both his palms on my desk. “Because I do not want this company receiving any additional scrutiny. With Merrick gone, we are on the cusp of entering an entirely different stratosphere. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  I found it interesting after our discovery of each other, his needs had shifted to something I considered far too normal when not one of the three of us could ever be considered that way. We were freaks of nature, created by violence and blood.

  Especially after the inhuman deeds we’d accomplished. We’d compared notes. Our actions had been remarkably similar.

  I leaned forward in my chair. “Come on, brother. Tell me another lie. You crave the same intensity, the same thrills as I do. You have midnight escapades just like I do. You might consider what you do less dangerous, but you’re wrong. Besides, what is the fun in playing it safe?”

  We stared at each other for a tense moment in time.

  “You’re a sick fuck. Do you know that?”

  I laughed after he asked his question. “We know each other too well, brother.” I’d spent some time playing some of the games Jessica had designed, finding them a fascinating representation of the very darkness she so coveted. While somewhat amateur, the game design was brilliant, the solutions to the various levels difficult to find. She had every right to work on my team.

  “Did you ever wonder about that?” he asked.

  “Meaning?”

  He slid into the chair opposite me, crossing his legs and leaning back as if he had all the time in the world. “Meaning why the three of us are exactly alike. We’re careful sociopaths.”

  “You mean we have psychotic personalities?”

  “We do. Think about it. We were raised in different homes in two different states. We had parents of different professions and financial stability. How could the three of us end up monsters? What are the odds?”

  “Were any of our homes stable?”

  “You tell me.”

  We hadn’t talked much about the people or places where we’d grown up. There’d been no need or desire to commiserate over our bad lives. I was curious why he was broaching this now. “What would you like to know, Wilder? That one of my earliest memories was seeing my foster father beat the shit out of a puppy I’d been given because the dog whined to go outside? Or how about when I was finally removed from that horror into a quote respectable family and on the very first night I was beaten with a belt and locked in a closet. Now, tell me. What do you think about my past life?”

  Wilder was the kind of man immune to stories of death, torture, and any level of violence. I’d seen it firsthand. Yet on this day, his eyes opened wide. “I’m sorry, dude. It must have gotten better from there.”

  “Yeah, when I started working out and grew six inches. Then I beat the shit out of the next asshole who thought he could use me as a punching bag, killing the last one and burying him in the backyard for abusing his own wife. I had it damn good.”

  “I wonder if our father was like us.”

  I almost choked. “Who gives a shit. He didn’t care about us. Neither did our mother.”

  “No one told us dick and you know it. Fucking social services continues to hide something either tragic or disgusting from all of us. Every one of us tried to discover our past. It took a fucking court order to locate the two of you.”

  “Why the hell is this important to you?”

  Wilder slumped further into his seat. He was really bothered by this. “Maybe because my thoughts and dreams have been filled with the need for destruction. I want nothing more than to wrap my hands around some prick’s throat. Maybe I’m disgusted with being me.”

  “Maybe you’re searching too hard for answers that aren’t there.”

  He looked me directly in the eyes. “Maybe you’re right. Discovering who the fuck they are won’t change anything.”

  “You should probably realize that it might, but not for the better,” I told him.

  A light rap on my door brought the conversation to a halt. My assistant popped her head in.

  “You asked me to let you know when the candidates had arrived.”

  “Which group?” my brother asked, now with a sly smile on his face.

  “The females. They are all positioned in the quiet rooms waiting for their partners,” she said to both of us.

  “Thanks, Carrie.” I took a deep breath, swinging my chair back and forth.

  He glanced over his shoulder, waiting until she’d closed the door. “You like playing with fire.”

  “So the fuck what? Ms. Sophie Turner isn’t exactly who she pretends to be and I want to know why. What is she gunning for other than a taste of the darkness only we can provide?”

  “You think she’s listened to the whispers about the Obsidian Society on the great dark web?”

  I nodded. “I’m certain given she’s in the same profession she’s done her homework.” Maybe he was right and checking her entire background was a good idea. Besides, something continued to nag at me, including her real name. I didn’t like red flags.

  “That’s just it. Beware of those who speak our language. They could also be predators, but of a different color.”

  “Duly noted.”

  He rose from his chair, still smiling at me, yet I could see by the look in his eyes he was still on some mission to learn more about our ancestry. I couldn’t care less. I had a feeling Zach didn’t either. But he could do what he wanted. He was his own man.

  I had other things to do.

  Tasks that fulfilled me.

  He left my office, leaving the door open. I glanced at the picture of Jessica I’d downloaded, tracing her face with my index finger. “Soon. Very soon.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Jessica

  I couldn’t believe I’d worn jeans to an interview. Comfortable, rugged attire had been recommended given the nature of this particular test. Still, I was antsy and didn’t feel nearly as in control as I’d hoped after waking up that morning.

  I’d thought for certain after several days had passed that I’d been shut out of the possibility of getting the job. Then another invitation had arrived via snail mail, this one blood red in color with the same gold writing. So here I was bright and early on a Monday morning.

  Desdemona.

  I’d chosen my screen name during a playful moment, a nod to part of a song I enjoyed listening to. Did it reflect the woman inside? Probably not, but it usually made me smile.

  Not today.

  As my nickname flashed on the screen, my heart rate skyrocketed to the point I was almost short of breath. The invitation hadn’t provided much information other than to be at the Blackwell Group’s office at a specific time. When I’d arrived, I’d been escorted to a waiting room that was full of other women, all different ages and dressed in various forms of attire.

  It had felt more like being in the waiting room of a gynecologist’s office than the building of a multibillion-dollar company. Complete with the godawful elevator music.

  All of us had waited for over fifteen minutes, which hadn’t surprised me, but had pissed every other one of them off. The Blackwell Group was doing it on purpose, adding to the anticipation of what we were hoping to achieve.

  A high score. In traditional games, that meant killing a number of bad guys, gaining weapons and knocking out monsters along the way. But in some virtual reality games, it was all about the cunning used, whether the activity was completed or if the gamer abandoned the area for any reason.

  Including being unwilling to participate in depraved acts, whether of a sexual or a violent nature. I had no thresholds, at least not in the virtual world. I’d begun to wonder if I did in the real world as well. I’d come to think the death of the man who’d attacked me had been justified.