Chapter One
Cheater Cheater, Soul Eater
Music bellows around me while strobe lights disturb my vision. A provocative song emits from the speakers, filling the room around me like smoke. This is my element—a space dominated by heated bodies, scarcely clothed, and saturated in sweat; alcohol immersing the senses. It's the kind of environment that purges a person of life's demands and leaves them feeling wildly alive. My body buzzes with each thump of the bass, jutting my heart rhythm with it. Encapsulating myself with the crowd around me, I allow its hypnotic energy to control my movements. No longer aware of where I end and they begin. We are one entity, trapped under the same spell that our ancestors once fell to. From rain dances to rituals, we move with what gravitates us.
My thoughts return to the objective at hand. I have a job to do and I must stay focused. I throw back another shot of amber colored liquid and it slides down easily. The warm burn ofwhiskey only adds to the euphoric element this place offers my wicked soul. With liquor in my veins, I head towards the dance floor. My body sways to the music while I avoid the advancements of men with less dark intentions than I have for the evening. A lion dressed in the wool of a lamb. Little do they realize that I am a predator hunting for my next meal. They are so easy to control with just the right movements. A soft flutter of lashes, a subtle pucker of lips, the casual flick of hair, a gentle laugh; and they are enslaved to a woman’s commands.
As I move through the crowd I see him, Mario Andrés. Olive tan skin with sleek black hair placed into a messy bun, tattoos covering his body while large diamonds that twinkle under the lights sit upon his ears. If I was anyone else in the world, I may have found him attractive in that mainstream kind of way. Unfortunately for him, I am not like other girls. His looks do nothing to keep him safe. I make my way towards him slowly, ensuring to move just right in order to gain his attention. As I slide through the crowd I see him in VIP with a hardly dressed woman straddling his lap. He pays her no attention as he talks to his surrounding friends, completely unaware of the impending demise that awaits him. He has no clue that the girl sprawled across his lap is employed by me. I encourage consenting girls to come work for me rather than run the streets. They are more than employees, they are part of our family. As the music changes, we make eye contact in such a deafening way. Drawing his interest out, keeping him frozen in time, leaving him vulnerable. He glances down towards my body as it sways to the rhythm. I caress myself, never looking away from him. He's intrigued and that's exactly where I want him; just curious enough. The more I move, the more he stares until suddenly he throws her off of his lap, leaving her to yelp in surprise. He slowly approaches me as I continue todance. Beckoning with my finger, like a rattlesnake with its tail, I encourage whatever thoughts are dancing in his mind. He accepts by offering a devilish smirk that silently makes my skin crawl. I don't let these thoughts meet my face though. He needs to want me as badly as I want him; dead that is. I twirl around and gyrate my body until I feel him splayed up against me. I grind into him while his hands slide across my curves. Swallowing the growing bile in my throat while he continues to torment my nerve endings, I keep his disgusting attention. The sensation of his breath on my ear causes me to tense for only a split second. Not long enough for him to notice of course.
He says in a thick accent, "You are so intoxicating."
I smirk and reply, "I know".That's the point, I think to myself.
Spinning around and placing my hands against his torso, I continue to move along with the beat of music. It’s the perfect song for such a situation. I love James for timing these perfectly, he really knows how to set a girl up for success. With Mario's hands finding my hips he speaks again, saying something about what he wants to do to me at his place. I’m not surprised. That's the goal though, right? Get him right where I want him. Just as he's about to speak further, I pull my gun out and aim it right for his gut.
"You know Mario, I have always wanted to dobadthings to you too." I say with a smirk.
I prepare to pull the trigger when a loud pop sounds, just as I am sprayed in the face by warm liquid. Mario's eyes go wide as he looks at me, mouth agape with a shocked expression before dropping lifeless on the floor. He bleeds from his half missing head, frozen in time, with the same look he held moments ago. The energy suddenly shifts before myeyes. His men stand at attention and begin firing towards our location. There are screams and people running from all directions. I duck behind a fallen table as my eyes scan the crowd for the source of my stolen kill. I look over to James where he can be seen firing shots towards the VIP area. Conor, one of my bartenders, uses his AK-47 to make it rain on the remaining shooters. Something instinctively draws my attention to the left. Just then I notice movement going towards the side entrance. I rise from my position and bolt towards the door gliding over obstacles in my path. My men call out to me amidst the chaos, but I ignore them.
I bust through the door with my shoulder, causing a loud bang. The cold night air bites at my skin and lungs. My eyes glance over the alley hastily looking for the subject of my rage. Just then, I hear a nearby ladder creaking. Finding the source of the sound, I climb it with stealth and throw myself onto the roof. The figure darts just out of reach as I chase after it. I pound my legs at full force, driving myself towards them. They jump from the building's edge to a fire escape, thinking it would slow me down. Not a chance. As they climb onto the next roof, I launch myself into the air. My body lands onto their back while they climb over the edge, causing us to roll. I can tell from their size and build that they are male. Over six feet tall and built like a warrior, but still not a challenge. I pull the blade from my leg strap and try stabbing him, but he is quick. Quicker than you would expect from a person of his stature. He pulls out a switchblade and the real fight starts. With each reach, we one up the other. Like two black mambas, we move around each other. Dangerous and precise, we throw strikes that never land. We are evenly matched and doomed all at once. A dance with Death itself would be safer. He lands a punch with his empty hand causing my vision to waver for a moment from the force.The blur clears just as quickly but is now accompanied by a stinging sensation and the metallic taste of blood. Reaching up, I wipe the crimson liquid from my mouth while giggling.
"You're going to have to do better than that," I state in a slightly sarcastic tone.
He chuckles in return and responds, "Oh baby, we are just getting started." His voice is deep and smooth like top shelf whiskey. There’s an accent there but I can’t place its origin. His use of a pet name only pisses me off further.
Smiling, I give it my all. I swing my knife and slice his arm. He touches the cut and looks at the blood that is now covering him.
"That’s not very nice," he says, then makes atsk tsksound while wiggling his index finger at me. He drops his knife and launches towards me.
I drop mine in response and prepare myself for the impact. Mid air, I throw a punch that causes him to fall to the ground. He sweeps his legs out and knocks me off balance. The ground is one place you don't want to be in a fight. You are vulnerable and at your weakest. He straddles me before I'm able to move. His hands are around my neck as he uses his full strength to cut off my air supply. I struggle to breathe and try to calm my nerves as the more I fight, the quicker I'll pass out. Relaxing, I look him in the eyes. If I wasn’t already oxygen deprived I may have felt winded. Diamond orbs look back at me. They don't just stare into mine but imbed their force deep within my being. It’s like a spell I am a victim to. Chewing me up and spitting me out, only to beg for more. I almost get lost in them before reality strikes my brain again. I try to break his hold but he doesn't budge. I land a punch to his side, and he waivers long enough for me to grab the hidden blade I’d tuckedhidden in my waistband. I sink it into his abdomen and he tenses while sucking in a breath. He looks down as his mind registers what is happening. Somehow, without seeing his face, I know his features hold an expression of astonishment and confliction. Seconds later, he rolls over with the knife still embedded in his stomach and I use the opportunity to catch my breath. I walk over to him and lean down, preparing to remove the mask he is using to hide his identity. I need to memorize his identity as I drain the life from him.
"You almost got me there but you've gotta be quicker than that. Too bad you won't get another chance," I chuckle in a condescending tone.
I wrap my fingers around the mask and begin pulling up on the material when suddenly a blinding hot pain consumes me. I can feel the pressure as a blade is carving its way into my belly.
"You mean like that?" He says with a chilling tone. I fall to the ground as he removes the blade still inside of him.
He stands over me once more and says, "Maybe in another lifetime things could have been different, Everly."
The darkness starts to consume me, the ghost of a man sulks off into the night. I know what happens next. I am going to die here. An irreversible slumber of nothingness begs to be my fate. I lose all my strength and slowly drift in and out of consciousness. The last image I see is that of a man. His dark hair blends in with the sky above him. His eyes bore a hole into my soul. He's gorgeous and I'm convinced he must be an angel. Except angels aren't real and I know I am dying from blood loss. With that, darkness consumes me and I fade off into nothingness.
Chapter Two
Rage In Cursive
The muffled sound of beeping pulls me up from the depths, closer to the surface of consciousness. I hear hushed voices in the distance but can't make out their words. A burning sensation consumes my senses, much like ocean waves that pull you beneath its rolling surface. I groan in response to the discomfort. My eyes remain shut as I attempt to move my hand to the source of the pain. Largely, my body is too weak to move. Deciding to start with simpler tasks, my eyes begin to flutter. Blinking, light overtakes my vision and I squeeze them shut in response. With another push, they open. Taking in my surroundings, I gather that I’m in a hospital. My memories dance like waves on the open ocean, coming and going. The image of my club, Chaos, floods forward. Bullets flying and screams filling the air. Then I was chasing someone; I remember the scuffle and how skilled he was. His ability to be quick on his feet for someone who is easily over six feet tall. He was stabbed and I was just about to unveil his identitywhen suddenly I was consumed with pain. The world had spun like curled waves crashing against rock, and there I’d lain planted on the shore, waiting to decay with the seasons.
The realization hits me and my blood pressure skyrockets. The beeping around me hits an all time high and suddenly James comes into sight.
"Hey! Relax. You're fine!" he says. I grab him by the throat with strength I didn't know I had. A pain shoots through me from the movement but I ignore it.
I pull him towards me and growl out, "Where the fuck is the bastard that did this? Did we catch him? Is he already dead? Because when I am done with him-"
I'm cut off by James choking out, "There was no sign of him when we found you. No one saw him in the club either."
This can't be possible. There is no fucking way I was one upped by a damn ghost. I begin screaming like a wild banshee.Sign me up for the psych ward since that's where I belong right now.I'm thrashing James around by his throat while his face turns shades of red and purple. The door opens and in strolls the only person I don't want to see right now. I can’t help but groan in response. My father stands within the doorway in a charcoal gray suit. His salt and pepper colored hair is styled neatly atop his head.
"Everly, settle down or you are going to kill the man!" He shouts. The Don of the American Mafia has the audacity to be worried about one of MY men?
