I don’t know why I lied. It’s not like Grim wouldn’t tell them, or they couldn’t see on the billions of cameras they had.
But it felt special…secret.
Lock and Raze shared a look.
“You sure about that, Barbie?” Raze stepped away from my window, closer to me. His features were a mixture of bored and angry, like my existence was nothing save an active irritant.
I barely saw his cold eyes beneath his silky, wavy hair—black and white, split equally down the middle of his part. I knew he didn’t dye it; it was that bright white naturally on the one side. There was a story there, one he didn’t share.
Next to Wraith, Raze had the most tattoos.
I folded my arms. “Why do you care?”
The muscles in his jaw flexed, making the tattoos on his neck snake. “You’re getting too comfortable.”
“I assure you I’m not fucking comfortable right now?—”
“You’re forgetting your place,” Raze continued, cutting me off. “You don’t call us, you wait for our fucking call. You don’t show up places without an invite.Youbelong tous.”
Theyhadseen…but that still didn’t explain why they were here. Lock and Raze took a step toward me and instinctively I stepped back—into something hard.
“You know what happens when a dog disobeys?” His voice was like rocks, jagged and rough. Lower, somehow, than Grim’s. The heat of it made the hair at my neck rise. “They get a leash.”
Wraith.
My heartbeat froze, just stopped completely in my chest, before nose-diving into my gut.
I didn’t consider myself very fearful. I wouldn’t say Iwas courageous, just…numb. Jaded, I guess. When you’d seen the shit I had, lived the life I had, you stopped caring.
ButWraith?
Yeah, he still made me shiver.
I stepped off with a jolt, putting space between me and him, and the other two.
At first, everything about Wraith screamed normal boy in his twenties. From the nondescript black hoodie and jeans to his dark sneakers. In high school, girls were all over his ass. He had that silky, curly hair you just wanted to run your fingers through.
His hoodie fell over his face, shadowing him. In the night, where you were most often likely to see him, that hoodie obscured his truth. He almost looked normal, until he stepped into the light. Then you knew why they called him Wraith.
Wraith was the only Horsemen with tattoos that covered half his face, a terrifying mask of black ink.
“Does Grim know about this?—”
Wraith cut me off. “You don’t worry about him; he’s none of your concern.”
My massive wing felt small, shrinking under them and their implications.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.
We had a fucking deal.
Stay out of my world. Stayoutof my world.
Fuck. This.
I pushed through the wall of men. Lock grabbed my arm and shoved me against the wall. “Where are you going looking all determined?”
I stared up into Lock’s blue eyes.
