We’re hurrying back to my apartment. Our clothes are spattered with blood, and there’s no way a few people don’t notice. More than a few. Every single passerby stops in their tracks and stares as we make our way home, drenched in red.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” breathes Liam, absolutely freaking out. “What the fuck was that about? What’s going on, man?”
We turn into a deserted alley, and I slam him to the wall, my hand closing in on his neck. I’m reminded of what I did to the insect, except with her, I’d never squeeze. Well, not enough to kill her. Doesn’t mean the urge isn’t there, but I’ve learned to control it. I would rip my own body apart, limb by limb, before I hurt a hair on her head.
Not that she doesn’t deserve it, and a lot worse, too.
But Liam… well, I’m about one second away from throttling the life out of him, and he throws his hands up in a capitulating gesture.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he wheezes, and the only reason I let go is because of how inconvenient it would be to kill him right now. I’m already screwed enough as it is. I don’t need another body to cover up.
Anyway, I know why he’s freaking out. Why Dane probably is too, though I ripped out my earpiece and have no idea.
Great,I think to myself.Another piece of evidence left behind.
But right now, I don’t care. I don’t give a shit about anything other than that bastard Jones speaking the name he had no right to speak.
And the meaning behind his words.
We reach my apartment in silence. It’s in the heart of Astley, a few streets over from the business section, on the top floor of a high rise. It occupies the entire floor, with a wrap-around balcony and two guest bedrooms, which is good, because Liam and Dane spend most of their time at my place. The kitchen is state-of-the-art, though I only ever do takeout, and the elevator is private. Great when you’re covered in blood and don’t want anyone to see.
A little late for that, in this particular situation.
It’s the kind of place most twenty-one year-olds can only dream of—even the kind of twenty-one-year-old who grew up in Astley with rich parents. But I’m very aware, as we head up, that it’s also the kind of place that could vanish into thin air when your contracts dry up because you left an epic trail of evidence behind you.
That’s only the tip of the iceberg in terms of what you can lose, though, and I know Liam is thinking of that as he hunches over in the elevator, swiping his mask off, his face coated in sweat. We’re going to die unless we come up with an airtight excuse.
Right now, though, I don’t feel like coming up with anything. The only thing I care about is the meaning behind Jones’ plea for life.
So much for killing him to get rid of the thoughts. They’re here now, in full force.
Dane is waiting for us at the apartment, and he’s clearly not so stupid as Liam. He doesn’t say a thing for the moment, just looks at me with a careful expression.
Wondering if I’m still in a killing mood, I guess.
I fucking am.
I fall on the couch in the living room, not caring that my bloody clothes are staining its whiteness red.
Dane and Liam sit quietly too, and for a long time, no one speaks. My mind is spiraling.
“Did you know?” I ask finally.
“Huh?” says Liam, as Dane looks at me questioningly.
“About the Day killing.” I spit the name out, because it’s hard to say it. But I have to. “It was a contract killing.”
I don’t know why I’m so unsettled right now. I definitely had suspected it was a Devil kill. But it’s one thing to suspect it. Another to have it confirmed. And it’s something else entirely to realize the Day contract was important enough that they’re now killing off anyone even vaguely related to it.
“Of course it was a Devil contract,” says Liam without thinking, and Dane’s closed-off face tells me he knew too. But again, he’s not as much of an idiot as Liam, and was probably thinking of the best way to answer me without getting strangled.
And fuck do I want to strangle him. But I also want answers.
“Why didn’t I know this?” I ask guardedly.
There’s a long pause, and Liam has clearly decided it’s in his best interest to let Dane speak now. Not a complete idiot, after all.
Dane weighs his words carefully before answering.
