“I’ll drop you off,” I offered, unlocking my SUV.
“Okay, Cal and I will go check the police station.” Emory jumped in the passenger seat of the black Jeep. “I’ll let you know if we find her.”
Things were spiraling out of control. Mr. Whitethorn was dead, and Kenna was missing. The darkness that had beencreeping in suddenly felt all too real, and I couldn’t shake the sense that everything we feared was about to come true.
CHAPTER 34
GREY
Smoke spilled from my mouth as the cigarette dangled lazily from my lips. Headlights beamed down my driveway, chasing away the stars. The blinding light filtered through the swirling smoke around my face.
The familiar white SUV sped down the gravel path as I ashed my cigarette into the empty beer bottle sitting next to me. The SUV came to a stop, and Lyra hesitated for a brief second before opening the car door.
“Hello, little witch.” I smirked, but was met with a blank, unreadable expression.
“Grey,” she said my name, and for the first time, I didn’t like the way it sounded coming from her mouth. Heavy footsteps thudded as she ascended the porch steps, stopping directly in front of where I sat.
“What’s wrong?—”
“How could you?” She cut me off. I flinched at the accusation lacing her tone, slicing deep to the bone.
“How could I what?” My brows knotted together, trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about. But whatever it was, she’d already determined I was guilty.
“Mr. Whitethorn.” Tears clung to her long dark lashes.
“I’m so fucking lost.” I shot to my feet, towering over her.
“Mr. Whitethorn was murdered,” she yelled. “He was stabbed over and over, beaten to a pulp, and left crucified to a post.”
My muscles flexed, taut with rage. I crossed my arms over my chest and the snake tattoo slithered over my forearm, ready to strike if necessary.
Lyra didn’t avert her gaze from my cold, hard stare, but matched it with one of her own. It was an expression so foreign to her face it made me falter.
“Did you kill him?” She stomped her foot like a child throwing a tantrum.
“Are you asking? Because it sounds like you already think you know what happened.” I roared. Lyra hadn’t come to talk. She’d come for a confession.
“Was it you?” She bit out. “Did you murder him?”
I didn’t bother answering the question. Lightning sparked at my fingertips and skidded up my forearms. I took a step toward her, only for her to take a step back. Real fear flashed across her hazel eyes, as if she was seeing me for what I really was for the first time.
I reached out, gripping her by the neck and sending a jolt of my lightning down her spine. My claws dug deep enough to elicit a squeal. Lyra struggled against my hold, small droplets of blood dribbling down her neck.
“Grey,” she whimpered.
“This is me asking nicely, Lyra, for you to fucking leave.” I released my hold and licked her blood from my claws, savoring the taste on my tongue. “Don’t make me ask again. Because I won’t be so nice next time.” I snarled, exposing my blood covered teeth.
“We had a deal.” Disappointment and heartbreak bled together in her tone. “Why did you force me into the deal if you weren’t capable of holding up your end of the bargain?”
“I forced you. Oh…no, no, no, little witch.” I shook my head. “You took the deal willingly and offered so much more to me in return. Your body, your heart, and your?—”
“Part of the deal included you not killing anyone.”
“I guess neither of us got what we wanted, then.” She flinched, and I sent a warning shot of lightning at her feet, splintering the sun-rotted wood of the porch. “Leave.”
She stumbled down the steps, and I could hear her heartbeat quicken. She stopped; shoulders tensed as she opened her car door. I sent another bolt an inch from her right foot.
“Next one won’t miss,” I said, raising my fingers like a gun and pointing it directly at her heart.
