Page 82 of Deadmen's Queen

TRISTAN

I tossed some lemongrass and ginger for the stir fry sauce into the basket next to the freshly wrapped salmon fillets, wishing Blackvellyn had a farmers’ market more than once a month. Supermarket food was never quite as good, and I wanted this dinner to taste amazing to take Paige’s mind off her discomfort. I hated that she was in pain, and I whipped round the shop as fast as I could, nearly colliding with an elderly couple who gave me death stares. I apologised profusely, then shot down the toiletries aisle.

There were a few hot water bottles to choose from, so I picked up a fluffy pink one, then grabbed a navy blue one too. My sister had period cramps sometimes and she needed two, one for her front and one for her back.

A couple of boxes of painkillers came next, and I paused, wondering what else she might have wanted and worried about asking for. I knew my girl wasn’t great at asking for what she wanted, and I tried to guess what would make her happy.

Chocolate. Of course, she needed chocolate. I made my way to the confectionary aisle and stood before the shelves, a colourful array of wrappers gleaming under harsh fluorescent lights. My hands hovered, indecisive. Which was her favourite? Dark, milk, white, with nuts, fruits, caramel? I cursed under my breath. How did I not know this detail yet? I made a mental note to find out when I got home.

“Damn it,” I muttered, my gaze darting across the rows of confectionery as if the answer might leap out at me. I could text her and ask. I reached into my pocket for my phone, quickly realising I’d left it plugged in on the centre console in the car. Crap. I’d probably been too long as well. Ah well, needs must.

I started grabbing one of every chocolate bar on the shelf, filling the basket up to the brim. At least we’d have a good supply in. One of them had to be her favourite.

I headed over to the cashier. When we all moved to London, I’d make sure I knew everything Paige liked to eat and drink and have it in the house for her. Food was most definitely my love language and that girl had been starved of both by her parents. Not anymore.

She was going to ace the showcase; I was sure of it. That girl had so much fucking talent and had no clue. I was sure with the right introductions she would go far, and I intended to be there to support her every step of the way. The others would be too. Nate, the guy who needed a sex club to get his rocks off and who hated touch, to my utter disbelief had fallen hard for Paige, and although he’d never be as touchy feely as me, I liked that he tried when she needed him.

Bast on the other hand, that guy was driving me up the wall. It was clear as crystal that he was as besotted with Paige as Nate and me, but he wouldn’t admit it. When I’d brought up the idea of us living together in London, Nate had agreed straightaway, but Bast had been reluctant at first, and I could not figure out why.

When I questioned him, he’d been full of shit about our life, and the Syndicate, and it was only when Nate reminded him of the creepy stalker and pointed out we could use Syndicate resources to protect our girl that he finally agreed to start looking for a place for us all. Paige had been delighted, but he’d barely reacted to her obvious joy, turning the conversation immediately to in which area would be best to start looking.

I’d watch Paige deflate a little under his cold approach, though I’d done my best to cheer her up again, and I knew it wasn’t going to be long before I gave my best friend a damn good talking to about how he treated our Queen. After what she’d gone through, she needed security and reassurance, she needed to know we loved her completely and we weren’t going anywhere, and she needed to be reminded constantly. Him acting like it was just business was just a pile of crap, and I was going to have it out with him. And if he didn’t see reason, I’d get Nate to knock some sense into him.

The poster of Paige's missing friend was hung up next to the tills, and I felt a surge of guilt. Here we were, planning how we were going to move on with our lives, and this poor girl was missing. I couldn't imagine what her family was going through. The pain in my chest if I imagined it was Paige or Rosa was overwhelming. I studied the girl's pretty smile, her dark blue velvet jacket, and sent out a silent prayer that she was found soon and safe.

I paid for the shopping and headed back out to the car, dropping the bags onto the front seat. I reached for my phone. Damn, I’d been there for nearly an hour. I also had three missed calls from Bast and an answerphone message. I hit speed dial one and turned the car on, backing out of the parking space as Bast’s voice came over the car speakers.

I frowned as he told me about the fire at the warehouse, and that they were leaving Paige alone until I got back, so not to take too long.

“Shit!” I said, hitting the accelerator and speeding out of the car park, swinging onto the main road. My brain told me she’d be fine, it had probably only been about forty minutes, but I broke every speed limit on the way back anyway.

I skidded into the driveway, throwing the car into park and grabbing the shopping bags. As I stepped out, my gaze fell on an unfamiliar van parked near the curb. Just in front of it sat a familiar silver Mercedes with this year’s plate. I frowned. That was the car I’d seen at Paige’s house on Christmas Eve. Shit. Had Paige’s mum driven up to see her? Why hadn’t Paige called, or texted at least?

My grip tightened around the shopping bags as I noticed our front door standing ajar. Something didn't feel right.

Heart pounding, I slowly approached the house feeling in my jacket pocket for the knife I always carried, just in case. The front door creaked open as I pushed it, the sound echoing ominously in the silent house. The alarms have been turned off, the tiny status light on the keypad by the door blinking green. Someone had tapped in the code to turn it off.

“Paige?”

No answer.

I moved further into the house, sticking my head around the living room door, but the room was empty. The light was on in the kitchen, so I headed that way. The car could belong to someone on the street, I reasoned with myself. And Paige could have her headphones on. She always played her music too loud.

I pushed open the kitchen door and walked into the kitchen. Then I froze. Just past the island, Paige was sprawled out face down on the cold, tiled floor, blonde hair covering her face. Her clothes were soaked in blood and a pool of dark red blood was spreading from under her body.

My heart stopped and for a moment, I couldn’t move, paralysed by the fear that overwhelmed me. The bags fell from my hands, the contents spilling everywhere, and I took a step forward.

“Paige?”

A sudden movement behind me took me too long to register. I was in shock, and everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. Everything except him. He hit me hard in the back twice and I turned, my sense finally returning. A Reaper skull mask grinned back at me as the knife gleamed under the fluorescent lights. He lunged at me before I could react, the knife coming down hard into my chest. I gasped from the impact, throwing my hands up instinctively as the blade flashed again coming down, slashing my palm and sinking into my stomach, before he wrenched it away again.

I staggered backward, my vision spinning as pain exploded through my chest. The taste of copper filled my mouth as I coughed, blood splattering onto the tiled floor to mix with Paige's. I pressed one hand to my stomach, and a sickly warm sensation blossomed from within as blood pumped out from between my fingers, staining my shirt a dark crimson.

Trying not to panic, I reached into my jacket, grabbing my own knife, but he knocked it away, thrusting his blade into my stomach again. This time, I stumbled forward, falling onto my knees.

“You thought you could keep her from me? She’s mine.”

I shook my head weakly, gasping for air. “She was never yours...” I wheezed through gritted teeth.

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