Scattered across my bed were hundreds, possibly thousands, of teeth. They clicked and clattered against each other like beads as I rustled.
I kicked the sheets off, scattering them over the floor.
The adrenaline made my room spin in the best of ways, like a carousel bent on overstimulating a bairn. I pulled on my shirt and kicked one leg at a time through my trousers. I barely remembered to tuck my shirt in before my shoes were already on my feet.
I made my way to the front desk, adjusting my pace to contain my excitement.
“You. Who did you let into my room this morning?” I demanded once I reached the reception, the fang hidden away in my balled-up fist.
“Room number?” The man behind the desk peered at me over the rim of his thin glasses.
“One seventy-three.”
The carefully groomed man glanced down at the logbook, licking his thumb before turning the page, “Ah... that would be Mrs. Forbes, sir.”
“Mrs. Forbes,” I repeated slowly.
Cheeky play, Alina.
My heart could burst just thinking about her being in my room, watching me. I wonder if she had brought a knife or held it to my skin in my sleep. Could she have saved some of her sweet poison for me? I am sure the urge to cut my throat was unbearable for her. Instead, she decided to leave me a gift. She had never done such a thing for me. I say it wasabouttimeshe returned the favor.
“Did she give you the message?” The man interrupted my thoughts.
“Pardon?”
“She said she had a message for you,” he repeated.
“Ah, yes, it was received loud and clear.” I couldn’t help a grin.
19
THE FIXER
It was a clever disguise for something like her—a humble shop maiden. There was no discernible reason to suspect she might be the mad hatchet-woman that she was.
I watched from across the street as the shop sign flipped to “Closed” and Alina swept the dried dirt tracked in by the day’s patrons. She even wore an adorable smock apron to truly sell the image. Feasibly, she would be better off like that. Is this why Silas could somehow see her being subservient? I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought.
My cigarette became half an inch shorter with a single breath. The snow dusted the shoulders of my coat; I hadn’t moved in an hour. Alina wasn’t very observant of her surroundings, so I could probably go another hour in the same spot without her noticing. It was a miracle she was still alive, truly.
The sun took its time rising this morning, the outside dark and stale, my wait only accompanied by the streetlights and the single lamp flickering from inside the shop.
As Alina wiped down the counter, she paused.
You canfeel me, can’t you?
Her actions slowed, as if she was trying to confirm who she was seeing in her periphery.
Would you rather it be him or me?
Alina stopped cleaning the counter, turning her head to look out at the darkness beyond her haven. At first her eyes were distant, desperate to adjust to the outside. Finally, they settled on me.
The pulsing of my jugular was hot and fast, as was everywhere else. The slight tingle of blood filled my eyes, and inevitably, a dribble of blood escaped my blind side.
One quick gesture and her face went dark, so did the shop as the light went out.
A heavy sigh manifested itself in a cloud in the cold air, and I crossed the frozen street.
With one heavy kick, the front door slapped open, the small bolt lock clattering to the floor along with its screws.
