She took it in her own. The cool kiss of her metal rings brushed against my heated skin as she shook it firmly.
“Astoria Mordred.” She grinned, dropping my hand before leaning back into the booth. “What brings you to Lovelen, Arizona? Unless you are a fan of jumping chollas and the unrelenting sun, there is not much here for newcomers.”
I let out a snort of amusement. “I inherited a property from a distant relative. I had to come out here anyway to meet with her lawyer, so I figured I would stay awhile. Wasn’t leaving much behind in Raleigh.”
“Running from something?” Astoria’s smile dipped into a devious one that I could tell only meant trouble for anyone who came in contact with it.
“Running, relocating…same thing to me.” I lifted my glass and took a long drink. “And when this opportunity fell into my lap, I couldn’t help but jump at the chance.”
Astoria’s lips parted to respond, but the sharp crack of gunfire split through the air. The front windows exploded inward, sending shards of glass spraying like shrapnel across the diner. Astoria shrieked and ducked beneath the table. I followed without hesitation, heart hammering against my chest as more bullets tore through the space. My ears rang, but I could still hear the distant, angry shouts of men growing closer.
I locked eyes with Astoria, signaling that we needed to move. Now.
Her eyes widened with realization, but it was too late.
A hand fisted in my hair, yanking me violently back from under the table. I screamed as my assailant dragged me across the broken glass, the sharp edges slicing into my arms, my legs, my side. I kicked out, twisting and turning to try to break free, but my attacker only tightened their grip, dragging me across the diner floor like I was nothing.
We suddenly stopped. Their hand jerked my head by the roots, wrenching my neck at an awkward angle until my spine arched.
The man above me leaned in close. He was in his mid-forties with graying, thinning hair. A jagged scar ran across his throat like someone had tried to slit it a long time ago but failed to get the job done. His skin was pale, almost a sickly shade, and his eyes…
Dark. Familiar. Evil.
Recognition hit me like a freight train. And I knew with icy certainty that I had met this man before.
But the question was, did he know who I really was? If the answer was yes, then I was already dead.
CHAPTER FOUR
kaius
Few things satisfiedme more than the sound of a man begging for his life when he knew he was mere inches away from death. Some found it sick that just the reminder of the whimpers could brighten my day. Nolan, my second, always joked that there was no other sound that could do it for me, and on most days, I agreed.
My knuckles cracked against bone, splitting skin and sending a fresh spray of blood across the cold concrete. The man slumped back into the chair, groaning in half-conscious misery, each breath a shallow, pitiful gasp.
“There is only one way this ends, Joshua,” I said, my voice steady as I sneered down at him.
He coughed, blood dripping from his lips. “Please…I told you. I don’t know how the Muze is coming into the city. All I have been told is it was being traded near the border. Somewhere near the old mill. I swear to god, that’s everything I know!”
I bent at the knee to come eye level with him. “You’re lying.”
Without looking, I held out my hand. Vincent leaned against the wall behind me with all the patience of a bored cat, flicking a butterfly knife open and closed before dropping it into my waiting palm. I flipped it open with a fluid snap, the blade catching the dim light with a wink. I turned the knife side to side to admire its beauty.
Joshua recoiled instinctively, but the ropes binding him to the folding chair held him in place. His voice rose, a scrambled mess of stuttering pleas spilling from his lips, but I didn’t bother to acknowledge them.
“Nolan,” I called out calmly.
From the shadows, Nolan stepped forward, locking one arm around Joshua’s throat and the other across his forehead, holding him in place for me.
I stood, pressing my fingers against Joshua’s cheeks to force his mouth open. The man’s eyes widened in panic as I snatched his tongue between my thumb and forefinger, pulling it toward me with a harsh tug. Before Joshua even realized what I was doing, his severed tongue was hanging limply in front of him.
His screams came out as a gurgle as blood poured down his chin and over Nolan’s arm. The bright red color soaked into Joshua’s shirt, pooling beneath the surface onto his collarbones. The severed tongue hit the floor with a wet slap as I let it go. Joshua’s body began to spasm as he choked on the gush of blood flooding his throat.
I turned toward Vincent once again. He held out a small vial—delicate glass cradling dried petals and leaves the color of ash and jade. I handed back his knife and took the vial, holding it up to the overhead light.
“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” I said to no one in particular, admiring the flecks of white blooms in the mix. “Most mistake her for parsley, you know. Harmless little thing…until she’s not.”
I pulled the stopper with a soft pop, pinching the batch out of its glass.
