Page 1 of Smoke and Mirrors

Prologue

KACE

My footsteps beat against the concrete as I force myself down the sidewalk. The urge to look back over my shoulder is strong, but I press my body forward, knowing I don’t have much time.

My heart is racing, the adrenaline inside my veins pumping madly throughout my body as I move quickly through the streets, ducking around innocent people who have no idea what’s about to happen. It excites me.

I’ve never felt fear, fear is weak.

I am not weak.

I relish in watching strong men crumble to their knees, knowing there’s no way they can fight me.

Just as I stop across the road from the apartment building where I’ve lived for the past month, my phone begins to vibrate in my pocket. I take it out, not bothering to look at the caller ID before holding it to my ear. “Yeah.”

“Is it done?” they ask.

Just then, the ground begins to rumble, and a loud burst of noise fills the streets around me, smothering the sounds of cars and prompting high-pitched screams. This time, I allow myself to look over my shoulder watching as smoke begins to fill the air, tainting the bright blue sky an awful shade of gray.

Alarms ring out around me, and I rush to cross the street, hurrying inside and down the corridor to my apartment. “It’s done. No one’s coming out of there alive.”

I pull the phone from my ear and end the call, slipping it back into my pocket.

It’s done.

LILY

“Boring. Boring. Boring.”

I shove my spoon into my mouth, flipping through the channels on the television as I eat my cereal. There’s really nothing on in the mornings apart from the news and stupid cartoons. I look down at my PJs, knowing I’m probably not going to change until at least lunchtime since it’s my day off.

“Netflix it is, I guess,” I mutter to myself while reaching for the other remote.

Just as my fingers touch it, a loud boom startles me, and my half-eaten cereal flies off my lap and onto the floor as I leap into the air. My heart races, and I grip the sofa cushion in my hand, wondering what the hell just happened.

Do I get up and run, try to find help? Or do I stay completely still, struck with fear?

Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I move slowly, climbing off the couch and tiptoeing over the spilled milk and Fruit Loops heading for the balcony. Before I even reach it, I see the smoke billowing into the air outside.

“Oh my hell,” I whisper, moving into the small doorway.

It’s coming from a few blocks away, and there are already sirens blaring, some sounding like building alarms, other police cars, and ambulances.

Running back inside, I dive onto the sofa and struggle to grasp the remote in my hand, my fingers failing to do their job as they shake with fear. Finally finding the right channel, the news reporter stares straight into the camera, her eyes wide, most likely reflecting my own.

“Breaking news… some kind of explosion has just hit in downtown Washington DC. There isn’t a lot of information available, but we’ll keep you updated as it filters in.”

“Shit!” I swear, leaping up and running out my front door, into the long hallway of my apartment building. My eyes search the hall, not even sure of what I’m doing but looking for someone who might know something or at least be able to keep me calm. But it’s completely deserted.

I consider banging on doors, feeling like I really don’t want to be alone at the moment.

On hearing the door at the end of the hall open, my eyes immediately swing to it, my body sighing with a breath of relief. When I see him rushing toward me, my heart starts to race again, but for a whole new reason.

For the last month, since he moved in, he’s never offered me more than a quick hello. Never a name and most definitely not an occupation. He’s a mystery, one that my best friend, Molly, is completely obsessed with. Well, more with wanting to fuck him, she doesn’t care if he even has a name.

He rushes down the hall toward me, his hand tucking a cell phone into his pocket with his head down. He’s wearing a tight black shirt and black pants, the dark look seeming to suit him perfectly.

I must look stupid, standing outside my door in my pajamas looking disheveled and confused. I open my mouth to talk as he moves closer, wanting to ask him if he’s okay, or if he knows what the hell is going on outside, but it’s dry with nerves, and my lips won’t form the words I want them to.

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