Butcher & Blackbird (The Ruinous Love Trilogy #1)

by Brynne Weaver

it’s fucking revolting. And I’m not squeamish. But I have standards. I prefer my corpses fresh.

The skin splits open and a white mass of maggots tumbles out, like little orzo pastas.

Good thing i dont eat orzo pasta

start to hum in the hope I’ll drown out the sounds that are suddenly too loud around me.

No one here can love or understand me … Blackbird, bye, bye …

“You seem to be in a predicament,” he says. A lopsided grin sneaks across his face,

I’m on day three of no coffee. No food.

I like that we said no coffee first, tells me a lot

A sly smile with perfect teeth and a straight scar that cuts through his top lip,

And for my part, I’m fucking disgusting.

I’ve totally heard of all those names, even though I’m not telling him that.

“Sloane. My name is Sloane. The Orb Weaver.”

“Oh my God. I knew it. I fucking knew they had it wrong. It had to be a woman. The Orb Weaver! Such a cool name. The intricate fishing line, the fucking eyeballs. Amazing. I’m such a huge fan.”

Golden boy energy

Is she always this flighty, or has her time in Albert’s cage got her spooked? Or is it me? She’s wise to be wary.

I need to get my shit together. She’s the Orb Weaver, for Chrissakes. If she catches me ogling, she could pop my eyeballs out of my head and string me up in fishing line before I say the words no bra.

A drop of barbecue sauce gathers at the corner of her lips and her tongue darts out to claim it, and I want to fucking die.

Imagine what she could do with that fucking mouth.

Sloane’s eyes have darkened, and with just a blink she’s gone from a sexy, runny-nosed, and ravenous beauty to a wicked, remorseless, iron-willed killer.

A sly smile spreads across my lips as Sloane’s face falls. “You totally know who I am.”

“You’ll love me one day,” I purr,

I beat him until his skull cracked and his body seized, then watched as a final, bloody, gurgling breath spasmed past his broken teeth and split lips.

It wasn’t a pretty kill. It wasn’t elegant. There was nothing staged or clever about it. It was visceral and raw. And I enjoyed every fucking second.

“I didn’t gouge them out, Butcher. I plucked them. Delicately. Like a lady.”

“What would you say to a friendly competition? First one to win gets to kill him.”

“Just a little game. Let’s go for ice cream and we can talk it through.”

“You know what they say, Blackbird. ‘It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye,’” I whisper. “And that’s when the real fun begins.”

I decide not to unpack the various reasons I chose that picture and resort to visualizing myself stabbing him in the dick with the fork instead. I bet it’s such a pretty dick too. Just like the rest of him. “Jesus Christ. I need help,”

I didn’t realize how much I was looking forward to this game until the anticipation took root in my thoughts.

Lark Montague is the only thing in this world that brings me clarity when my mind descends into another dimension of darkness.

She doesn’t push or give her opinion of what I should or shouldn’t do. She listens. She hears, like no one else can.

“Dude, shut up. Whining isn’t going to help.”

Note to self, be quiet if captured

“This is called the consequences of your actions, Michael.”

“And then I’ll take your fingers for every disgusting text and threat you’ve sent, and I’ll shove them up your fucking ass. If you’re lucky, I’ll get bored and kill you before I get to your toes.” “Jesus, Sloane,”

Yeah, I couldn’t agree more.

and nothing is both more tempting and unforgiving than watching time slowly ticking toward your doom.

Jesus H. Christ

And good luck, eyeball spider lady, or whatever the hell your name is. Just think, little brother—your title of loser is about to be official.

I like him i hope he gets a book

“I’ve got places to be, so I guess we have to cut this short, if you’ll excuse the pun,” I say before I drive my blade beneath his ear. Blood cascades over the table in a flood of crimson. “It’s game night.”

…thats hot

So, essentially, he’s going to have his ass handed to him like the little bitch masochist he is.”

So I do what any reasonable, grown-ass man would do to his little brother.

We love a brother trilogy (pretty sure thats where this is going)

Lachlan might enjoy ribbing Fionn and me, but I know he’s stressed about our younger brother no longer living in the same city as us, and now about me going off to play some insane death game with a serial killer I barely know.

Fucking nerd.

Oh so im gonna love fionn, got it

“Fuck Off it is. ‘Pleased to meet you, Fuck Off. I’m your brother-in-law, welcome to the family, Fuck Off.’”

I shouldnt be into this

He presses his head to mine for a breath and then he’s gone, heading toward the door to do the same with Fionn.

So sweetie pie

Safe travels and get fucked

I love it here

trying to focus on the same page on my e-reader that I’ve been stuck on for the last five minutes

“I figured that was how you acquired your freckles. Stealing souls.”

Burn!

“What does my nervous little Blackbird like to read, I wonder?”

“My”

“Monster porn, clearly,”

“The sentient dragonman has two dicks and he knows how to use them. A forked tongue too. And a very talented tail. So don’t make fun.”

I’m your next-door neighbor, by the way.”

Gooseflesh