“You see? That is what I’m talking about.” I point at the sizzling scorch mark on the door. “That was unnecessary. You frightened him, when the only thing he’s guilty of is checking on you, protecting you. You’re so rude.” “Yes,” he says, nodding, smirking. “I’m very rude.” “And selfish.” I step toward him for emphasis. “And cruel.” “Selfish and cruel. Both true.” Whatever self-destructive spirit has gripped me and throttled my better judgment, she seems determined to go for the King’s jugular. “And you’re a mass murderer.” His mouth twitches in a snarl. “And you want me. You want the murderer
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