Page 59 of Sinner

The box wasn’t oppressive by any stretch of the imagination, but I still felt overwhelmed. I stared at it as if the devil himself was going to pop out. What was wrong with me all of a sudden?

To hell with it. I wasn’t some chickenshit girl. I was resourceful and full of creativity. Right? I yanked off the bow, yet gingerly opened the lid.

To find the most exquisite black roses nestles inside crimson tissue paper. Black. I lifted one, noticing the horrible-looking thorns and laughed out loud. The gesture reminded me of a double entendre. Perfectly gorgeous albeit unnatural in color flowers with dangerous-looking thorns. The scent of them was incredible and I knew the roses had to be dyed, but whoever had been tasked with the project had done a very good job.

Still, the sight of them brought me both a moment of fear as well as victory. I was certain that was the intent. Now, onto the bag. I tugged off the layers of tissue paper, grinning the moment I saw the contents.

A flashlight and a compass. What the hell? I pulled the compass into my hand, realizing instantly it wasn’t a cheap piece of crap bought from some big box five and dime either. It was the real thing. Wow.

It was going to be a real-life test. And I was invited. Oh, my God. I was elated, thrilled out of my mind.

Crazy for thinking about doing this.

I placed the objects on the table and something else caught my eye. Another card, this one white with blood-red writing.

Your test has been selected.

Meet us at the funhouse, carnival style.

Where your strengths will be reflected.

Keep in mind, you’ll stay awhile.

Use the gifts as required by dark sin.

But remember, only one shall win.

The rhyme was corny, but effective enough. There would be more than one opponent for this test. I was suddenly more excited than I’d been. But a funhouse? I thought about the carnival that was in town. In my mind it was odd that it was being held in June. I had to wonder if the Blackwell Group had influence over the owners of the circus-like event. I’d never been before, but I’d heard there were several creepy rides. In fact, I’d never been in a funhouse before.

Ever.

I’d been too terrified of the dark as a child, sleeping with two lights and the covers firmly locked down around me. It was so strange that after hitting my teenage years, I’d gravitated to horror movies. My interest was a direct influence of the games I’d started playing. While much tamer than the ones of today, they’d paved a road for the shy girl to break free of her chains, resulting in a craving for all things on the dark side.

I studied the poem again and thought about my answers on the great questionnaire. Maybe I had alluded to hungering to go through a haunted maze. Hmmm…

After grabbing the single vase I owned, I added water and carefully placed the roses inside. The fragrance was incredible. I took a few seconds arranging them, suddenly feeling a prick. A thorn had punctured a finger. I held it into the light, watching as slender string of blood trickled all the way down to my hand.

Had Sinner enjoyed killing the man as much as it had appeared?

Another laugh bubbled to the surface and I took a long stride toward the faucet, washing the blood away and grabbing a paper towel. It had been a thorn, not a demonic gesture, for God’s sake.

With the wine in my hand, I backed away to the door, staring at the items for a few seconds before flicking off the light.

Yes, Stephanie had a good idea. Tonight I would shine as a woman.

Next Friday I would win as a competitor.

Look out, Sinner. I’m coming for you.

CHAPTER 18

“And after all, what is a lie? ‘Tis but the truth in masquerade.”

—Lord Byron

Xander

Lies were a part of everyone’s existence whether they knew it or not. Maybe some believed that telling a loved one they liked a Christmas present they didn’t want, or that a terrible dinner just prepared was delicious weren’t lies, but they were. Often, the act of deception was used for protection, fearful another person would learn something that would destroy their life. However, in the case of Jessica Waldrop, she’d told a purposeful lie to keep me from discovering her true identity.

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