“See to it that Mosel gets the fae contracts by the morning.Good evening, Lord Brinkley.”
Dahlia shifts forward suddenly.Brinkley about shits himself as he jerks away, scampering back into the nightclub.
A bone-deep smile settles all the way into my belly as we head towards the exit.I finally did something useful and all by myself.I’m feeling entirely smug until Dahlia opens the door.
Then, I scream.
* * *
Mother paces back and forth up and down the now empty nightclub.It’s odd being in a room painted black but with the house lights on.A bit like knowing how a magic trick is done, it spoils the illusion of the club.Mother’s eyes carry a fever as she flits between me and the dead body in the middle of the dance floor.
I sit in a booth, my legs tucked under my chin, my arms wrapped around my knees to try and stem the trembling.But it doesn’t matter how tight I grip myself, my teeth still chatter, and I can’t seem to get warm.I keep giving the corpse furtive glances.Every time I do, bile claws at the back of my throat.
I bury my head in my thighs.The flashing memory of Dahlia unhooking the woman from the doorway keeps replaying over and over.
She was hanging by her neck, her head limp and lolling to the side.But that wasn’t what made my skin crawl.It was the fact she was dressed to look like me: long blonde wig, short pink dress, a face full of makeup.They even put blue contacts in the woman’s eyes.
Gods, it was the way she stared out at nothing.I shiver.
Maybe it wasn’t Brinkley, Mosel or Jeremiah fucking with me.Brinkley was here tonight, after all, and after the warning we gave him and how terrified he looked, I really doubt he’d have the balls to kill a girl.I mean, it could have been one of the other two.But who the hell else could it be?Bane isn’t capable of murder; he’s a useless prick at the best of times.But then, he seemed desperate enough to harass me the other night.And as for Lavinia, I always thought her more of a queen bee bitch.But what if I pushed her too far?I did sleep with her boyfriend.Maybe she’s trying to terrify me out of pure revenge, a kind of public humiliation at the most crucial of royal events.I wouldn’t put public humiliation past her, but murder?I trawl my memory trying to come up with anything else I may have done to Lavinia or her family that might have pushed her over the edge.
Whoever it is that has a problem with me, they are escalating.They fucking killed a girl, for gods’ sake.
Dahlia shucks her jacket off and slings it around my shoulders.
“Here,” she says and strokes my leg.The movement is slow and measured.Despite the cool touch of her skin, a warming comfort swirls through my limbs, and after a couple of minutes, my nervous system responds and the trembling ceases.
“Thank you,” I say, and she slides her hand into mine, squeezing.
Morrigan’s friends are huddled around her.She’s super pale and keeps glancing at me.Octavia and Scarlett chat in quiet tones a little way off.They occasionally point at the body and then cover their mouths as they discuss what I assume is strategy.
Dahlia doesn’t leave my side.She’s tense, her entire body rigid and on high alert.Taut lines of muscle strain her neck as she scans and rescans the room.
“It’s okay,” I whisper.
“Nothing about this is okay, Penelope.I have a job to do.What if that had been you?”
“Is that all I am?A job?”I hiss.
Her jaw flexes.“That’s not… I didn’t mean it like that.But clearly this threat is real.”
The nightclub door slams open, making us all jump.Dahlia leaps in front of me, her arms out wide, only to see Mother’s head of security, Daria, storm in and halt when she sees the body.
Her eyes drag across the room until she finds me, still living, still breathing.
Her lips purse.“What the fuck happened?”
“We don’t know,” Mother says, sidling up to Morrigan.“Morrigan, you should head home.You need to get out of the city and back into the safety of the palace.I’ll send Pen after you.”
Morrigan nods and then approaches me as she weaves her way through the club.When she reaches me, she just stares, blinking and examining my face.
She takes my hand.“It wasn’t your fault.Whoever did this is sick.”
I nod.We are so rarely kind to each other that on top of everything that’s happened and how tightly wound my body is, my eyes well up.
“Okay,” I manage, but my voice is small.
“I know we fight, but I don’t know what I’d do if that was you.I’m so grateful you’re okay.Can I… Umm.I’d like to hug you.”
