I'm chaos wrapped in skin.

By day, I'm a tattoo artist with ink under my nails and a guilty seat in the back pew at Sunday mass.
By night, I'm the monster other monsters fear-hunting demons who can't keep their claws to themselves.

I never leave a trace.
Until one slip, one mark, puts a hunter on my trail.

He's everything I should avoid-holy steel, lethal precision, and a body I want to sin against until I forget my own name. He swears he'll kill me. I swear I'll make him beg first.

Enemies. Addicts. Obsessions.
Our fights taste like foreplay, our threats like promises. And when he finally pins me to the wall, blade at my throat and hunger in his eyes...

The only thing I'm begging for is more.

After all-If I'm going to hell, I may as well drag him down with me.