Page 28 of Devil May Lie

His gaze swept around until it landed on the head nurse. “There’s been an accident in the main hall!”

“What happened?” The nurse shot forward, and both Zane and Berga followed.

Seeing no reason not to do that same, Madden did as well.

“She slipped and fell down the stairs,” the cadet explained as he led them out into the corridor. “There’s a lot of blood!”

Chapter 7:

For a military academy, there were sure a lot of whiny bitches.

Berga kept his expression blank as he stopped at the side of the top of the landing with the others, peering down at the mess at the bottom of the long set of stairs. He’d be able to tell if he looked closely enough if the female cadet was still breathing, but honestly, it didn’t really make much of a difference to him either way.

He didn’t know her.

Her life or death didn’t matter.

Even if it ended in the same way as—

“What happened?” Madden’s strong voice next to him caught Berga’s attention, and he tipped his head, curiously inspecting the Mad King’s expression. He didn’t appear to be concerned, per se, but he was certainly more invested in the event than Berga was.

Interesting. Was it an act, perhaps? They didn’t know each other very well, but Berga had always just assumed Madden and Kelevra were as close as they were because they were similar. After the other night, he’d admittedly begun to question that assumption, but there was still no way of knowing if Madden truly cared about a random life or if he was simply an impeccable actor.

The Retinue wasn’t like the Satellite. Their duty was to protect the Imperial Prince, nothing else. As part of the mafia, an intrinsic part, the Satellite was different. Still, Kelevra wasn’t a normal prince either, and like Baikal, sometimes he got his hands dirty. Everyone knew about their Cleaners, an entire team put together just to help cover Kel’s ass—or another member of his group—if they killed someone.

Madden wasn’t clean. He’d murdered before, Berga was positive. Had seen it a time or two himself even. So if killing came easy to him, why did he seem sad about the potential death of a random cadet?

“Do you know her?” he found himself asking quietly, voice low enough there was a chance he wouldn’t be heard over the crying and shouts still taking place below them.

Zane was already down there with the head nurse, taking control of the situation, and it was clear an ambulance had been called, but that didn’t cause the crowd to scatter or give them space to work.

“No,” Madden shook his head. “I’ve never seen her before.”

“She tripped,” a male cadet, different from the one who’d retrieved them, was explaining to the head nurse. “We were talking and she just missed a step. Is she all right?!”

Berga shifted on his feet and glanced back the way they’d come, considering heading back to the nurse’s wing since he wasn’t needed here. Movement caught his eye at the end, a quick flash of red and pink that had the air catching in his lungs even as his heart skipped a beat.

As a scientist and a doctor, it’d been simple enough for Berga to comprehend his diagnosis when he’d first been given it. At age six, it’d been fairly clear-cut to him. But even now, at the age of twenty-two, knowing what he shouldn’t do didn’t make it any easier to actually prevent himself from doing it.

Which was why he left the chaotic nightmare on the stairs to trail after the actual nightmare that had just turned the corner. He kept his steps even and unhurried, past experience having taught him she would wait no matter how long he took to reach her. Drawing attention would only cause a scene, and those…

Berga didn’t much like those.

It was the one thing about himself he despised, in fact. Everything else, the whole grocery list of many things wrong with him, he could accept, but not that. The fear of it, of being exposed and judged and found wanting, was half the reason he’d developed his aversion to bodily fluids on his person in the first place.

Like he’d anticipated, there was another flash of pink at the end of the hall when he turned the corner, the girl in the pink dress not bothering to meet his gaze before darting off to the right. He followed, his heart pounding so loudly in his chest it was like a million and one drum beats echoing in his skull.

There’d been a time when seeing her had annoyed him.

Berga couldn’t recall that though. Couldn’t really picture how things had been before she’d started haunting him. Before—

He found her in the medical wing, in the room he’d been assigned and in only moments ago. It was empty now, save the two of them, and she was standing in the center, her head downcast. The pink tulle of her skirts was torn in places, and her pastel hair, like sea foam on a sunny summer day, unkempt around her cherub face. When she slowly lifted her gaze, eyes the same shade as his own peered at him from beneath crooked bangs, the hatred and disgust she felt for him visceral.

It was strong enough that he could practically taste it when he inhaled. Could smell the blood in the air when spots of deep red started to stain her baby pink dress. He watched as it spread, taking over the color, seeping through the thin material until there wasn’t enough fabric left to contain it and liquid started dripping from the tops of her shoulders, rolling down her arms. The hem of her skirts stuck to her thighs, blood trickling down her knees to pool at her feet.

A white sandal was attached to the right, but her left was bare, and Berga stared as the shoe soaked up the blood, turning ruby red before his eyes.

He was already too far gone when he lifted his hand toward her, as though there was anything he could do to stop what had already been done, but he froze when he saw she wasn’t the only one stained.

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