"You won't shoot me," he said, and he sounded sure of that.
I felt myself smile, and knew it was the smile that creeped me out when I saw it in a mirror. It was a cruel smile, a smile that said Not only would I kill you, but Fd enjoy it.
His eyes went a little uncertain at that smile. Good.
"I will shoot you. I'll kill you, if I have to."
"Do you want to touch me?" he asked, his voice less breathy now.
"Yes," I said, "I want to strip off and roll on top of you like a dog scent-marking." I gave a very small nod. "I feel the call of your power, Haven."
"If you kill me that all goes away."
"Then it goes away. I don't compromise my rules, Haven, not for lust, or power, or love." I was going to have to either shoot him soon, or lower the gun. Important safety tip: if you're going to do the big threatening speech, be in a comfortable shooting stance when you do it. My hands hadn't started to waver, but they would soon. "Ask the men in my life, I don't compromise."
I watched him think about it. Think about coming off the floor and trying me. "Don't, Haven."
"Don't what?" he asked, all innocent, but innocent just didn't work on him.
"Don't try me right now. If you do, I'll pull the trigger."
"Why? I won't hurt you. I'll just try to take the gun away."
"I'll shoot you, because this is our moment of understanding. You will either live by my rules, or you will die by them."
"I don't believe you," he said.
I let all the air out of my body, and the two-handed shooting stance didn't seem hard to maintain at all. I was suddenly focused, and ready. I felt myself sinking away into that white, staticky place, where I killed. I don't know what my eyes look like when I'm like this, but whatever was on my face, Haven saw it. I watched his face change, and stop being sure of itself. Tension ran out of his body, his muscles, and he lay quiet on the floor, and very still, as if he were a little afraid to move suddenly. Good.
"It's my way, or no way," I said, and the words were squeezed out, because I'd let my air go, so I could shoot him.
He licked his lips, and spoke softly, carefully, being sure to move nothing but his mouth. "Your way."
"If I put this gun away, are you going to try to hurt me?"
"No," he said.
"Why not?" I asked, still staring at him down the barrel of the gun.
"You'll kill me."
"You sure of that?"
Some look passed through his eyes—pain, fear, something close to all of