Page 46 of Whispers of Ruin

While Xan is driving the stolen car from the gala, I pause to send Zoey a message telling her to meet me at the apartment. Giving that she is on her day off, and that she never lets the first day of break slip by without indulging in complete idleness, I am not even the slightest bit worried. I know she will drop everything and rush to me, no questions asked, like she always does when I need her.

As I expected, her reaction is anything but calm, and I cannot say I blame her.

I know, I know. This is not exactly how you winBest Friend of the Year, but choice has not exactly been on the menu lately.

Seconds drag by in silence, each one heavier than the last, until my phone finally buzzes in my hand.

With that one reply, I already miss her endlessly. It is ridiculous how fast the ache settles in—and of course, as if Xan’s suddenly fluent in my inner monologue…

“You will see her soon, pull yourself together, girl. Any more of this and I might get jealous.”

I elbow him in the arm, half playful, half warning. I know damn well how hard he is working right now—against every one of his instincts and twisted principles—to let me go see Zoey. Even more so to let meintroducehim to her, still searching for the right words to say.

When we finally arrive at the apartment, a knot twists tighter in my chest, and whether it is thrill or dread—I cannot even tellanymore. Xan parks the car smoothly, but I can feel the tension. He follows me inside, his presence as solid and unyielding as always, yet his silence makes me wonder what’s going on in his mind.

Zoey is already there.Of course she is. I forgot she has the damn key. As I step inside, the familiar scent of her perfume hits me first—the faint trace of lavender and something warm, like coffee on a lazy Sunday morning. Zoey’s lounging on the couch, her feet tucked under her, phone in hand, looking as if she had been waiting for hours instead of just a few minutes.

She looks up when I walk in; her face lighting up with that familiar, mischievous grin that always makes me feel like I have just been caught doing something I should not.

“Mira!” she cries out, her voice full of relief. Her arms fly open as though I am the most long-lost treasure in the world. “Finally! I thought you’d gotten abducted by aliens orworse—kidnapped by that weird freak from the bar!”

I laugh, rolling my eyes at her teasing, yet that sense of relief is short-lived. The moment she looks past me and locks eyes with Xan, the world shifts as if someone suddenly hit pause on everything.

She freezes. The bright, carefree expression she had when she first saw me instantly disappears. Her eyes sweep over Xan, and just like that, it clicks—sharp, wary, alert.

“Oh,hellto the no!”

I can see the exact moment when Zoey’s brain short-circuits. Her eyes widen, her shoulders tense, and for a split second, I think she might just turn around and run. She is trying toprocess him, to figure out if I have just brought a professional villain into our life. Based on the look on her face, she is already forming a thousand theories about who he could possibly be. Her lips remain sealed for a moment, just stares, her mouth parted in disbelief. I can feel the awkwardness making me want to dig a hole and crawl into it.

Zoey shakes her head to clear the fog in her brain and finally finds her voice.

“Mira, what the actual fuck is going on? Is he… is he… like the Grim Reaper?”

She points a shaky finger toward Xan, her tone rising in pitch.

“I swear, he looks like he’s about to drag me to the underworld!”

I cringe, but somehow still funny. Zoey has that look on her face—the one that says she is equal parts terrified and oddly fascinated.

No doubt about it—Xan does feel like he stepped out of some dark, twisted fairy tale. The black clothes. The mask. The entire aura of someone who should be in aScreammovie.

I quickly step forward, trying to salvage this before she spontaneously combusts.

“Zoey, this is Xan,” I say, rushing out a little too quickly. “He’s… kind of important to everything that has been going on. Trust me, I did not just pick him up off the street.”

Zoey’s eyes widen even more.

“Well,thank Godfor that, because this guy? He looks like he’d steal my soul and still expect a tip!”

I hear a small chuckle from Xan. Sadly, the weight in the room remains untouched. Zoey takes a step back, her hand instinctively reaching for the nearest weapon—her phone.

“Please tell me you’re not about to take me to some underground lair and make me join your evil army?” she asks sarcastically.

Xan stays perfectly still, not a single twitch. He just stands there, all mysterious and Zoey’s defenses cranking up to full blast now. I swear, her instincts are sharper than a cat on a hot tin roof. I rub my temples, already exhausted.

“Zoey, please, it’s not what you think…”

Zoey is not done. She now circles Xan, studying him the way one studies a puzzle, determined to solve it.

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