Page 12 of Every Shade of Shadow

I wipe the beads of cold sweat from my upper chest, my heartbeat slowing as the night streaks by outside.

Sabrina touches my shoulder gently. "Jesus, you know that asshole?”

I shake my head. “No.”

I wrap my arms around myself, a chill settling deep in my bones. I can still feel the Wolf's eyes on me, stripping me bare.

I brace myself for more questions suspecting Sabrina will not let up, but to my surprise she’s too busy rummaging through her purse and probably too drunk to care. She’s never been particularly good at holding her alcohol, not that I can talk. My head’s wooly enough as it is.

The further we get, the more relief floods through my system.

Still, I know with grim certainty, whether I call the number or not, something is in motion.

Whatever it is, whatever has started, it’s only the beginning.

CHAPTER FOUR

I wake up groggy and disorientated, but there is no Wolf, no grand ball. There are no shadows stretching out in the corner of the room.

There’s still the Dior, though, puddled up on the floor, which seems kind of sad in a way.

I turn sideways, my eyes going wider.

Because it’s right there, the card.

Fresh as a fucking daisy.

I reach to my bedside and pick it up with uncertain fingers. It feels like it burns a hole in my hand as I stare at the paper, tracing the gold numbers with my finger. It’s in perfect condition.

Was he here? I think, fear starting to creep into my system. In the apartment?

There’s no other explanation.

I whip around expecting him to jump out of the closet, but no. It stays shut.

Lumina.

Fuck.

I know I shouldn't call. Everything about this screams ‘stay away from murderville.’ But God, the opportunity. All I’ve got here is a big, sploogy wad of nothingness.

My stomach clenches at the thought of another week surviving on crackers and tap water. Art school’s a no go with the loan officer trying to crawl up my ass. The eviction threat echoes in my head, a countdown to homelessness.

My debt? Job? What do I really have here besides Sab?

I grab my cell, heart pounding. What's the worst that could happen?

Ah, he could be a serial killer. You’ll end up chopped into little pieces and dumped into the Hudson.

Seemed like the type.

But no Lumina, no escape.

It’s a scam.

Has to be.

I swipe on up the screen of my cell. My thumb hovers over the keypad.

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