Thank you to my extra pair of eyes, xfang-girlx!

Dear readers: If you've made it this far in the story, you can tell it's no warm fluffy romance and the violence is not for the faint of heart. This chapter follows suit with the rest.

Sera was in the operating room preparing for the next patient when the Head Surgical Nurse came rushing in. She halted the preliminary audit of her equipment due to the unexpected and somewhat unwelcome interruption. Her eyes leveled on the woman to see that the usually calm and confidently passive Nurse Hartner seemed to be upset to the point of tears.

"What's wrong?" Sera inquired with suspicion, her dark eyebrows drawing together.

"There's been a change in the surgery schedule," the woman gulped.

So? These things happen all the time, she thought to herself, watching the woman's light blue eyes widen as she took a deep breath. What in the world could possibly have her this distraught and on the verge of panic?

"They're bringing in a man for a court ordered castration. He's a convicted child rapist," Cassie Hartner whispered unnecessarily since it was just the two of them in the room. Her thin fingers shook as she ran them through her lengthy blond hair that had not yet been tied back in preparation for the surgery.

Raw fury surged within Sera so quickly that a wave of nausea caused her to wobble slightly on her stool. She was thankful she had been sitting down before hearing the disturbing news. Her body boiled on the inside with anger in its severest form while a cold, sickening fear crawled over her skin like a thousand spiders. She shuddered and pressed her hand to her clammy forehead that was slick with sweat. The gentle hand placed on her shoulder made her lurch backwards as if she had been shot. A pair of worried and gentle blue eyes were looking into hers.

"Are you all right? Do you need to go home? I can tell Dr. Blackwood that you're ill and - "

"No, I'm fine," Sera insisted, attempting to gather her wits.

"Are you sure?" Cassie asked, her eyebrow raising with disbelief. "I am the Head Surgical Nurse and I can order you out of the operating room if I deem you're unfit to perform your duties."

She did not need to be reminded of that. She also knew she could not blow a golden opportunity to make a disgusting degenerate pay for his crimes. "I'm all right. Really. I skipped breakfast this morning," she lied, standing up to leave. "I have a protein bar in my locker. I'll go eat that and grab some water. I'll be back up to par in no time."

"Okay."

Whirling back around before walking out of the door, she asked, "What's the patient's name?"

"Richard Gainer," her co-worker replied, looking down at the clipboard in her hand. She was going over her pre-surgical checklist.

Sera quickly left the room to go to the employee locker room. Thankfully, the room was empty, but she knew anyone could roam in unexpectedly. Not only did she eat the protein bar and guzzle a whole twenty ounce bottle of water, she retrieved the page from her Death Note that she kept in her locker for an occasion like this. Placing the paper on the closed door of the locker next to hers, she began to write. At exactly midnight tonight, Richard Gainer will die of a massive heart attack that is completely unrelated to his surgery. She wanted him to die, but without putting herself or her coworkers under suspicion for malfeasance. With that done, she splashed water on her face before returning to the scrub room to cleanse her hands thoroughly. When the time came for the operation, she was sitting in her spot with a syringe in hand waiting for the patient as he was wheeled into the room.

Richard Gainer was a pitiful excuse for a man, not just in deed but in stature as well. He might weigh one hundred and twenty pounds fresh from the shower and dripping wet. Around forty-two years of age, he was almost completely bald having only a semicircular ring of thinning brown hair encapsulating his skull. His eyes were narrow and a shit brown color. He had been carried in a special gurney; one from the old psych ward complete with leather straps and buckles at his wrists and ankles to keep him tethered to the flat table. Two prison guards complete with automatic rifles had escorted him to surgery. One guard stood outside of the door while the other posted himself by the door just inside the operating room well out of the sanitized area to keep from contaminating the surgical environment.

Sera smiled at the cop inside the room. He was young, probably fresh from the academy and this was his first job. Nice looking, built wide and tall like a human brick wall, with thick black hair cut in a military style and sharp dark eyes that did not miss a thing; he made for quite the intimidating presence in the room. After he returned her smile, she pulled up her mask to get down to business. She had pre-loaded the syringe with the paralytic but had substituted adrenaline for the painkiller. This switch would push the medication through his system at a faster rate but would dissipate during the procedure without leaving a trace. The man would be completely debilitated, unable to scream for help while enduring agony without the mercy an analgesic to abate the pain. When she slipped the mask over his face, she only turned on the oxygen without using the sleeping gas. He would be paralyzed but wide awake. To add to his misery, she gave him a little bit of nitrous oxide, just enough to make him high which heightened his senses. She was about to take him on a journey of pain that would probably kill him if he were not scheduled to die at midnight tonight. He would feel everything during his castration; every slice of the scalpel, every cut of the scissors, every pinch of the clamps, and every single stitch. A vicious smile pulled up the corners of her lips. She could not even begin to imagine how he would suffer until death mercifully claimed him. Nor did she care.

~...~

"Going out tonight?" Tutanubis asked her as he watched her dress.

"Yes," Sera answered curtly. Many years ago she had become accustomed to her Shinigami and his excessively inappropriate conduct. She adjusted her breasts in her bra underneath her dress to show the right amount of cleavage to look enticing without appearing slutty. "What do you think?"

Her lascivious Shinigami studied her carefully with his big yellow eyes. She was wearing a simple cream colored dress that would look like an ugly, old-fashioned flour sack if it weren't for the wide royal blue sash tied at her waist. She wore flat ballerina shoes of the same deep blue color to match. The girls sat perky and pretty at the low, round neckline of the dress. "Very nice," he complimented with a sigh.

"What is it?" She stroked the fur at his neck, removing her hand when he growled lightly.

"He will find you tonight," he warned her.

"I hope so." She fluffed her hair, choosing to leave it down.

"Sera, I don't like him," Tutanubis stated bluntly.

"Jealous?"

"Maybe."

"What else?" Turning with her hand on her hip, she glared at him. He knew something that he was not telling her.

"I didn't tell you everything. He's not exactly like you," he told her, laying his big heavy hand on her shoulder. He had also realized too late that the half breed Death God did pose a danger to her - emotionally at least.

"Yes, he is. We're both murderers. He's no worse than I am," she argued, shrugging her shoulder to remove his hand.

"He is not like you. At least you have what could be called a good reason to kill. Almost admirable in fact. B isn't like that. He kills to have fun. He's indiscriminate and does not care if the person is guilty or innocent of anything. He enjoys it. He likes to torture and maim and destroy. With him, it's all about satisfying his curiosity, fulfilling his sick need, and inflicting all of the pain and terror he can on his victim," he explained, studying her face that somehow remained expressionless.

"I'm leaving," she announced, spinning on one foot to turn her back to him before sashaying out of the bedroom. "When I come home, I don't want you to be here."

"I won't be...I promise." Then he was gone, just as she had ordered.

~...~

Sera was sitting at a table in a dark corner of the gallery section of the bar. It gave her a complete view of the dance floor below. She doubted she would be able to spot Rue before he snuck up on her since he was like a phantom, appearing and disappearing at will while moving in silence and darkness. Perhaps he was part of the darkness itself. Tutanubis had given her that impression earlier. She boredly stirred her Dirty Shirley, a drink containing lemon-lime soda and cherry vodka, scanning the people on the dance floor. The myriad of dancers bumped and grinded their hips together, hands roved over bodies, and sometimes lips met. At times it was nearly impossible to tell who was dancing with whom. REAL dancing had obviously become a bygone art. She sighed grumpily, feeling exceedingly antsy. A sensation like cold water being poured down her spine made goose bumps raise over her body. A puff of chill air blew across her face from some mysterious source. Then she could sense him behind her. The frigid, dark energy that radiated from him stimulated her senses and made her weak. The delicate skin of her neck prickled with a ticklish sensation when his fingers grazed it lightly while pulling her coffee-colored waves back over her shoulder. Soft lips pressed a kiss to the skin over her wildly pulsing jugular vein.

"You started the fun without me," Rue murmured in her ear, his breath hot and his tone accusatory.

"But I didn't...I haven't," she stammered, fumbling her words when his lips met her sensitive neck again. This time, his tongue flicked out to give her a thorough taste. For the second time today, she was grateful to be sitting down before gravity did its worst and dragged her to the floor.

"Richard Gainer," he reminded her, holding his wrist in front of her face so she could see his watch. It was almost midnight. Threading his fingers through her hair, he rested his lips near her ear to begin the countdown. "Five, four..." His lips brushed her ear making every muscle in her body tighten. "Three." He puckered to kiss the outer curve of her ear. "Two." He could feel her leaning back into him, her breathing labored. "One."

Sera moaned as he pulled her hair to lean her head back so he could smash his lips to hers. She was left breathless as he consumed her mouth and annihilated her senses with his intense kiss. She was unsure if the booming in her ears was the bass beats of the music or her thundering heart.

"Shall we have more fun? Together?" he asked, leaning into her to hold her up. His finger moved over her jaw, turning her face back to the dancers. "Pick one. Who will it be?"

Sera shivered feeling his arms move around her waist to hold her while his narrow chin dug into her shoulder that he was using as a resting place for it. She drained her glass while surveying the people below once more. With a detached, purposeful demeanor, they discussed and eliminated the prospects one by one. As time and patrons dwindled, they began to wonder if any suitable prey would present itself. At last, they found the one: a dangerous and somewhat scary looking male with short, spiky, scarlet red hair. A silver bar pierced through both sides of the cartilage at the top of each of his ears. Hoops and diamond studs decorated the outer curve of his ears. There was a silver hoop in his left eyebrow and diamond stud in his right nostril. Sera would not care to guess what else might be pierced on his body. Dressed in a black t-shirt and black jeans, he sat comfortably sprawled on the couch covered by bimbos in sequined dresses that barely covered their asses. Apparently, he and his personal thugs were considered VIPs since they were sitting in a private area of the bar reserved for special customers. His status as a gang leader could not have been more obvious if he had worn a flashing sign.

According to the numbers above his head, Rue could see that the man was destined to die before the sun rose. If left to fate, the man would most likely die from the bullet of a rival gang member. However, fate would be taken out of the equation in the determination of this man's demise. Roan Flannery would be dead before dawn by the hand of his beautiful Sera.

"That's the one?" Sera asked, just to be sure they were thinking the same thing.

"That's him. Go get him," he urged her, patting her on the behind after she stood up.

Sera did not bother to turn around because she already knew there would be nothing but empty air behind her. Houdini had nothing on this guy when it came to disappearing acts. She made her way downstairs, pausing at the bar to order another drink before she approached the clueless fatality waiting to happen. Half of the margarita, with an extra shot of tequila for courage, was gone by the time she made it to the top stair of the raised area where they were all sitting. The loud talking and laughing halted to be replaced by the suspect, angry glares of nearly a dozen shady people. The most evil glowers were coming from the bimbos when they saw her standing there.

"Is there something you want, pretty lady?" Roan asked, pushing the blonde out of his lap. The woman's grunt of aggravation and humiliation went ignored by the man who had inflicted the damage to her feelings. He stepped past the blonde to stand in front of the woman who had interrupted their party.

Sera kept her eyes glued to his, staring intently into the almost colorless blue eyes that held nothing but hardness and brutality. She casually took another sip of her drink, allowing one side of her mouth to lift up into a brazen, self-confident smirk. Her hand moved to the thick gold chain he wore around his neck, fiddling with it as she inclined her body toward him. Her fingers clutched the chain, pulling him down so that her lips were close to his ear.

"You. I want you," she answered bluntly, kissing his neck just below his earlobe. The shudder of unadulterated lust that ran through his body made her giggle. She particularly enjoyed men like this. Breaking and terrifying seemingly powerful, fearless men like this held a rush like that of a strong drug.

"Oh? You do? What will you do to get me?" he inquired, an egotistical and irritatingly presumptuous grin on his face.

Sera smiled back at him with sincere self-confidence that clashed with his brittle and easily shattered arrogance. Taking the time to finish off her drink, she waited to answer until he began to show signs of impatience. She grabbed him by the shirt to pull his lips down to hers for a rough, consuming kiss. She could hear the bleats of protest from the women while the guys cat called and shouted words of encouragement to Roan.

"I'll be out in the parking lot waiting for you," she whispered to him, giving him a gentle peck on the lips before turning to leave. She flicked her hair over her shoulder then proceeded to pull the car keys out of her small purse. Roan would be along soon, and she wanted to get to her house quickly. Rue would be waiting for her there. She did not want to keep him waiting too long. After getting into her car, she hit the button to unlock the passenger's side door then put the keys in the ignition to start the engine.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" Roan questioned her after plopping down into the seat.

"Angel," she replied, using her pseudonym. She could feel his eyes on her, leisurely looking her over from head to toe. "Do you like what you see?"

"Very much. I can't wait to see what's under that dress." For emphasis, he placed his hand on her knee.

"I bet." Her foot pressed the gas pedal hard, sending gravel flying before they careened onto the pavement with a squeal of tires. When his fingers slid under the hem of her dress, she stomped the pedal to the floor. She needed to get this horny idiot tied up before he went too far. After his hand moved upwards, she placed her hand over his to prevent it from going where it should not. "Slow down there, speedy. I have plans for you."

"Really? What kind of plans?"

"It's a surprise." Torture and death followed by a homemade cremation always came as a surprise. Thankfully the man with the wandering hands behaved himself the rest of the way to her house, resorting to boring small talk to occupy himself. She gave semi-truthful answers to the barrage of questions such as what do you do for a living and what are your hobbies. She doubted he would like to hear that her hobby was killing nasty men who deserved to die and doing it in the most painful way possible. In a moment of brashness, she asked, "Have you ever killed anyone?"

"Of course I have," he answered, watching her face for a reaction. It seemed to disappoint him when she did not even blink. "Scared?"

"No." She sighed as if bored, turning onto the dirt road that led to her house. "Have you ever killed anyone who didn't deserve it?"

"My, my, so full of questions." His hand found its back to her thigh.

"Have you?" she pressed, parking in her garage.

"Probably."

I'm sure you have, asshole, she thought to herself, getting out of the car. Too many times she had been in attendance for surgeries on innocent bystanders of gang violence which had included small children and even babies whose only crime had been being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Walking ahead of Roan, she led him to her play room. A strangled gasp tore from her throat when he pulled her into his arms for a shockingly gentle kiss. She was not expecting such tenderness from a man who appeared to be so prone to violence. Her hands pressed to his chest, and she felt his heart beating beneath her palm. So alive, so wonderfully alive, she mused, allowing herself to savor the sweet kiss he was giving her. For a few minutes, she became engulfed in his soothing caresses and delicate kisses. She was immediately reminded of her purpose when she realized they were both naked and moving toward the bed.

"Wait!" she panted before he could lay her down on the bed.

"What's wrong?" he gasped, breathing in ragged gulps of air.

"Lay down," she ordered him, opening the top drawer of the chest that held her props. Holding the velvet ropes behind her back, she moved to the bed to teasingly hold them above him. Instead of disgust or shock, there was a spark of curiosity and anticipation that made his pale eyes sparkle. Sliding the ropes along his arm to stimulate him more, although it was obvious he did not need any encouragement, she tied his right arm to the bedpost before following suit with the rest of his limbs. Once he was securely restrained, she picked up the sapphire blue sash that had been around her waist.

"Oh, baby," he whispered when she straddled his waist.

Sera was careful not to allow his incredibly rigid manhood to enter her body no matter how hard he thrust his hips at her. A jolt of delectation ran through her body when his face twisted with frustration from his unsatisfied need. She wrapped the piece of blue silk around his neck, kissing him before sitting back up straight. Twisting the ends of the sash around her hands to secure her grip, she pulled with all of her strength.

"What are you doing?" he wheezed, bucking wildly beneath her. "You're choking me."

"Exactly," she growled through her clenched teeth, leaning back as if she were reigning in a horse.

"You're crazy," he choked out, jerking his body in a useless attempt to free himself.

"Yeah, I am," she agreed, stretching her arms wider to constrict the belt around his neck even more.

Sera had become an expert at tying snug knots that tightened upon receiving any resistance. There was no chance at all that he would break the binds around his wrists and his ankles, and they had actually began to cut into his skin due to the reinforced material sewn between the velvet. Taking up the slack of the ligature around his neck by looping it over her hand again, she closed her eyes and pulled. Seeing a person die this way was never a pleasant experience. Feeling their life ebb away while adrenaline inundated every nerve in her body was like heroine and just as intoxicating. She never felt more alive than now when she was stealing the life of Roan Flannery. Hearing his pitiable attempts to draw life giving air into their lungs only to be denied was quite empowering. She was doing something the voiceless victims of his unpunished crimes and their helpless families could never do - she was taking from him what he had stolen from their loved ones. Karma was a bitch, and she had become her self-appointed assistant. Listening to the gagging sounds he was making, she hung on for the ride with her thighs clamped to his sides while his body convulsed as she gradually pulled tighter. The spastic lurching of his body slowed to pitiful twitches and the sickening retching became disturbing gurgling as he lost his battle to breathe. Allowing her sore arms to slacken, she drooped forward in exhaustion. The adrenaline rush had run its course leaving her devoid of any energy.

"Sera," Rue called, wrapping his warm around her waist. He tenderly pushed the sweaty hair away from her forehead to kiss her. "It's done. It's over. You did wonderfully, my love."

"Rue, I - " Her voice was barely above a whisper. Speaking took energy she did not possess at the moment so she remained silent. She felt her body being lifted from the dead man underneath her. Held securely in Rue's arms, her head lolled lifelessly onto his chest.

"Take a shower and lie down. I'll take care of this," he told her, setting her on her feet at the door to the bathroom in her bedroom.

Sera clung to the wall, her weakened knees refusing to support her weight. She crawled to the shower, turning on the hot water and allowing the cold water to beat down on her head as she huddled on the freezing tile floor. Finally, the water became warm to thaw out her chilled skin and muscles. After being revived by the cold water then relaxed by the hot water, she found enough strength to stand and dry off. Walking into her bedroom, she saw Rue's white shirt lying on her bed. He must have taken it off before returning to do the dirty work that she was accustomed to doing by herself. She would never have imagined it was possible to have a literal partner in crime, but she liked it. Bleary eyed and sleepy, she pulled the oversized white shirt over her head and lay down on the bed. She fought to stay awake until he came back. Since there was no bloodshed, the clean up process should be relatively quick. Just as sleep was about to pull her under, she felt the bed move as he sat down next to her. Rolling over, she placed her head in his lap since he was sitting with his back against the ornate wooden headboard. Her brain grew fuzzy, and she could not think because his long thin fingers were brushing through her damp hair. Had she become his pet, a thing to be stroked and used by him? Her body had become light as air because she had embarked upon her journey to dreamland.

"You did well," Rue praised her, his delicate fingertips brushing over her cheek. "You're quite a treasure. I'm so glad I found you."

Sera's heart skipped a beat, and her belly quivered with happiness. She hoped he meant what he said. Never before had she craved the attention or approval of a man. But he was no ordinary man. Scooting forward, she enclosed his thin waist with her arms as to hold him captive.

"Stay with me," she mumbled, sounding as if she were severely inebriated in her current state of drowsiness.

"Go to sleep." His hands enclosed her upper arms, pulling her body upward until she was sitting in his lap with her head under his chin.

"Please...please stay with me," she begged shamelessly, losing her battle with sleep. Even if he didn't stay, she knew he would return to her at another place and time of his choosing.