Page 33 of Envy

“You asked me the other day if there was something I wanted more than anything. Death.”

He flinches, not expecting my revelation. He thought I wanted white picket fences and a savior.

“Death is the one thing I want more than anything, Garret. You killing me is my greatest wish. I’m hoping you can bury me in Kenyan’s cemetery right next to the church that decides my fate. I have a spot picked out.”

He storms out, slamming the door behind him. The force rattles the painting representing envy on the wall. I walk up to it and trace my finger over the bone on the woman’s hand.

GARRET

She wants to die,and she’s okay with me being the one to do it. But why? It’s not what I expected her to say. Who the hell is okay with dying? She didn’t cry out or scream like I thought she would, and none of it makes sense. Why would she go through all the trouble with John if she wanted to die? She could’ve just jumped off a roof or something.

You would stop her. Someone would. There are cameras everywhere.

I close my eyes, pushing the thought away.

My phone vibrates in my front jeans pocket.

I fish it out.

Alaric: Make sure you go to class. I have the info you asked for. My assistant will be in shortly to explain. I trust it will be an educational experience.

Garret: I thought you graduated like a million years ago.

Alaric: Stop hating because I’m smarter than you, and don’t disrespect your elders.

Garret: Yes, Dad.

Alaric: I can be your daddy if that’s what you want.

Garret: I guess you want to die and be buried next to the last Nox.

Alaric: After your next lesson in class, I think you’ll want to save those thoughts for someone more deserving.

The thought of killing her sits like a hot coal in my stomach, burning my insides after she admitted the last thing I expected.

I imagined material things—money, an education, sex. It definitely wasn’t the wish to die. Or for me to be the one to carry it out.

I’m practically running to class to find out what Alaric doesn’t want to tell me over the phone. What’s soeducationalthat involves Rose?

The smell of her skin still lingers in my sheets. I snuck into the bedroom this morning while she was eating the breakfast I ordered. There was no way I could get rid of something that smelled so beautiful.

She reminds me of the lingering scent of a black rose. My littleDarkthorn.

I knew if I touched her, she would consume me. And I couldn’t let that happen.

I walk into my International Relations class and take the seat closest to the exit. I like the freedom to leave without making a fuss. Not like the professor would question me for ditching early, but still, I like to make things easy.

The fact that Alaric chose this class to tell me something doesn’t sit right. International laws, globalization, human rights—nothing in this class should have anything to do with Rose. It’s an easy course, one I took only because I had to stay my entire senior year when I could have graduated early and been sitting behind a desk, barking orders in my late father’s building downtown.

I stretch my legs, ignoring the glances girls aim my way as they file in, staring at the time on my phone and waiting for class to start.

I only look up when the professor walks in—thick glasses, a porn mustache—waiting for him to announce that we have aspecial guest.My leg starts shaking.

Anxiety gnaws at me as Professor Mullen takes his time extracting a leather folder from his attaché. He notices me. Or maybe it’s the tapping noise I’m making with my sneaker, repeatedly hitting the metal chair leg. I want to grab his head andshove it inside the damn thingso he gets the hint and hurries the hell up.

The door swings open, and my blood pressureskyrockets. Azriel. The last person I want to see. What thefuckis Alaric thinking?

Valen’s younger brother doesn’t belong in a place like this. He’s good—better than most—but he’s been doing questionable things lately.

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