Page 30 of Dolls & Daggers
“You can do whatever to me, but donotbring mydog into it!” she snarls with a vengeance I’d never guess her capable of.
I blink through the pain.
Okay.
I deserved that.
“Mark my words, Wren,” she seethes, stepping toward the door and yanking it open. “You will regret this. Now get out.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” I say again, knowing full well I fucked up.
She glares, lips curling into something almost cruel.
“Not yet, you aren’t,” she promises, voice soft and lethal.
Then, with an almost wicked smile, she delivers the final blow.
“But trust me, Songbird—you’re gonna be.”
Bunny gags,pressing the back of her hand to her mouth as I recount the tale of Wren feeding our coworkers dick jerky. “Oh my god. Is that even safe for human consumption?”
“I mean… it was processed like normal jerky. It was cooked!” She dry heaves again as I turn my back to her and motion for her to secure my full-body PVC catsuit. “It’s fine!” I draw out the "i" as she pulls the zipper up. “Look at all the shows with cannibalism.”
“Keyword: shows, Dove.”
“Okay, Miss ‘I used a rump roast to kill my husband.’”
“I didn’t eat it afterward! Or him!”
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”
Bunny clicks her tongue, patting my back. “What am I gonna do with you, woman? Are you sure this is agood idea? It’s completely unlike the Doll to do something like this. Aren’t you afraid it will only heighten his fascination with her? Or that he might recognize you?”
I turn and pick up the dagger sheath attached to my leg garter, removing the lacy fabric and securing my weapon to my thigh. “That’s what the catsuit is for. Once the wig is on, he won’t see an inch of skin. There’s no way he’ll know it’s me.”
I don’t have to look at Bunny to know she’s rolling her eyes. I can hear it in her voice. “I don’t know. He’s pretty obsessed with you. That program I got from the guys at Tailor Tech to see who’s been looking at your socials works just as well as they said it would. Wrenley stalks your profiles constantly.”
“Ah. Only half as often as Hunter stalks yours, then?” I grin at my best friend.
She smirks back, the motion causing the scar on her cheek to pucker. “Con-stan-tly,” she sounds out. “I think you two lovebirds are a match made in heaven.”
“He desecrated my dog. There will be no love matching.” I frown and turn toward my wall of wigs, choosing a dusty rose one. The long curls will hide the part of my neck that sticks out of the suit.
“Don’t say he desecrated Fang. That sounds gross, and now I’m fighting mental images no one should have to think about.” She scratches behind Fang’s earsas he lies in her lap, and he groans as if in agreement. I’m still pissed his fur is the color of a Skittles mix. Even though I did it to Wren first, the songbird crossed a line.
After packing my wig, contacts, and mask, I sit next to Bunny and pull on my platform boots. Designed to look like part of the suit, they help disguise my height and the ridiculously high heels. “Are you going to stay here or go home?”
Bunny’s pups are slumbering in Fang’s dog bed on the floor, a pile of white and black fur resembling a yin-yang symbol. It makes me think of her and me and how well we fit together as friends. It’s nice having someone who understands my motives for doing the things I do. Our friendship is the literal sense of ‘we listen, and we don’t judge.’ We just ask where to show up with our shovels and often wait for each other after a kill to be a shoulder to lean on.
She stretches before standing and places Fang on the couch. “I’m gonna go home. You don’t need me, right? I can stay if you do.” A wicked smile stretches across her face. “But something tells me you might be out late.”
“I’ll let you know as soon as I get back.” I don’t entertain her insinuation. All I’m doing is scaring Wren. Showing him that the Doll isn’t someone toidolize—and that I am no one to mess with, even if he doesn’t know it’s me.
She grabs a pack of black nail stickers off the crafting table and tosses them at me with a nod toward my manicure. “Don’t forget these.”
“What would I do without you?”
“Oh, I don’t know, perish from boredom? Yasha, Maru, come on, boys.” She pats her legs and opens the door wider as her dogs bound past her into the hall. With a flip of her hair and a wink over her shoulder, she leaves, her mischievous lilt floating behind her. “Have fun, Love Dove.”
