Page 29 of Tricked By Jack
“Everything’s ready,” I continue, running my fingertips over the engraved letters of her name. “I dropped the last delivery off to Eve two days ago, and Sanctuary of Shadows opens tomorrow evening. Nick’s pulled out all the stops for the event.”
I continue to tell her about it, like I haven’t spent every week updating her on the charity she was once a part of. To Carolina, S.O.S. is about raising money and honoring her sister. For me, it’s about getting revenge for Ruby. And for Nick… I honestly don’t know. A bit of both, I think.
“He has only tried to talk me out of it a few hundred times,” I chuckle mirthlessly. “But he gets it. You’d be proud of your big brother, Rubes. Well, of both of us.”
The air pressure changes, compressing around me like a fist slowly closing.
“She’s different from what I thought.” My jaw tightens at the thought of Eve Mortis, of her gray eyes widening when I shoved her against that wall, of the heat between her legs betraying her. “There’s something broken in her.”
I could have killed Eve months ago. Could have ended her with the same efficiency I apply to every other problem in my life. But death would be too merciful, too quick. No, what I’ve designed for her is something far more fitting.
A slow dissolution. A gradual breaking. A lesson written in fear and flesh.
The wind whispers through the trees bordering the cemetery, a soft, sustained note like a distant scream.
I sit back on my heels, surveying the small kingdom of the dead around us. The grass needs cutting. The nearby oak drops acorns that crack beneath my boots like tiny bones. Everything here is in various stages of neglect or decay, just as the living prefer it.
Keep death at a distance. Don’t look too closely at its particulars.
“The auction starts tomorrow evening,” I say, reaching inside my jacket. My fingers close around the fresh rose I’ve brought, its stem cool against my palm. “And then comes the wedding.”
I pull out the flower, its red petals vibrant against the gray sky. It’s still fresh, still perfect. I twirl it slowly between my fingers, watching the petals blur into a dark spiral. I place the rose carefully atop the pile of withered ones, its fresh form a stark contrast to their decay.
“And then she’ll be exactly where she belongs. In my fucking cage.” My voice cracks slightly despite my iron control. “I’ll make her understand what it means to betray a Knight.”
The thunder rolls again, a deep, resonant growl that seems to come from the earth itself rather than the sky. A perfect accompaniment to the vow I’ve just made.
I bow my head, resting my forehead against the cool stone for just a moment.One. Two. Three. Four. Five.I mentally count down, and when I hit ten, I lock it away again. I tuck it behind the frozen lake of my resolve, where it can’t weaken my hands or blur my vision.
“I’ll do right by you.” I rise from my position at Ruby’s grave. My knees bear the damp imprint of the earth.
While I’ve been kneeling at my sister’s grave, the cemetery has darkened around me. The clouds and mist have thickened now. I brush a speck of dirt from my jacket sleeve, the small gesture a reminder of the control I maintain, even here among chaos and decay.
Then I leave, walking between the rows of headstones. The dead lie in ordered ranks, their final positions determined by plot numbers and family connections rather than the messy entanglements of their lives.
A crow calls from a nearby tree, the harsh sound cutting through the cemetery’s stillness. I glance up to see it watching me, head cocked. In some cultures, crows are messengers between the living and the dead. I wonder what this one would tell my sister if it could.
It blinks once, then launches itself from the branch, wings spread wide against the darkening sky. I watch its flight until it disappears beyond the cemetery walls just as the sky flashes with distant lightning.
The storm is approaching, just as I am approaching the culmination of my plan. The gate swings shut behind me with a metallic clang, the sound echoing against nearby mausoleums before fadinginto silence. My car waits on the street, and I quickly slide behind the wheel.
As I pull away, I feel the anticipation build in my chest, a pressure that expands with each breath. I channel it, focus it, transform it into fuel for what’s to come.
Lightning flashes again, followed almost immediately by a crack of thunder that seems to split the sky. The first heavy drops of rain begin to fall, fat droplets splattering against the windshield like tears from an indifferent god.
Instead of going home, I drive to Eve’s building, parking right outside the front door. The rain has thickened into something vicious now—sharp, stinging needles pelting the windshield in waves—but I barely register it.
Luckily, I don’t bump into anyone as I take the stairs to her floor and make my way to Ned’s door. He isn’t home, but the key is under the mat as usual so I let myself in.
Stepping inside, I’m immediately assaulted by the smell of stale beer and lemon cleaner. I don’t bother turning on the lights. The glow from the street below cuts across the floor in slices, fractured by the blinds, and it’s enough for me to see where I walk.
I stride over to the only thing I care about; the wall shared with Eve’s apartment. Pressing my palm to it, I lean in until my temple rests against the cold wall. Every creak in the pipes sharpens in the quiet.
Then I hear her; her laugh is high, unrestrained, and fucking radiant. A second voice follows, teasing in its familiarity. It’s Shelby.
My teeth grind together as I stand completely still, listening. Eve’s laugh comes again, louder this time. The louder she laughs, the harder I grind my teeth. My Bride shouldn’t be fucking amused.
She’s acting like I haven’t been crafting her downfall, like I didn’t mark and claim her. Like she isn’t living on fucking borrowed time.
