Page 47 of Slay Me

“Morning,” Valentina greets as she drops down onto the bench seat. “Wow. Look who’s decided to grace us with her presence.” She grins. “How nice to see you alive, Liv.”

“Fuck off, Val,” I reply in just as sweet of a tone.

She rolls her eyes. “Anyone seen Thomas this morning? I wanted to run something by him.”

“Jenny will rip your throat out if you try and screw with her man,” Fiona warns.

Valentina is completely unthreatened. “As if I’d want to smell like wet dog all the time?” She faux shivers. “Not a chance.”

“Then why do you need to see him?” Harriss questions and then plucks up a bite of pancake and shoves it into his mouth.

“Because I have an idea for a new performance.” Her gaze levels on mine. “One that will surely steal the show.”

“Go for it,” I reply. Then, appetite lost, I shove up from my table. “I’d be more than happy to have the attention on you, Valentina.” With a forced smile, I turn away and carry my plate to the dish rack. After depositing it there, I head off back toward my apartment to get dressed for the day.

“Hey, wait up!”

I turn as Fiona jogs up beside me, her lucky dagger in her hand. “You have no idea how badly I want to puncture a hole in her wings,” I say as we begin walking again.

“Trust me, girl, I do. Because I feel the same exact way.” We’re silent as we head up the stairs, both of us clearly lost in our own thoughts.

Mine drift back to Dante, to the way he demanded I not allow anyone else to touch me. Should I have done the same? Would it have mattered if I had?

Fiona’s hand closes around my arm, and I freeze in place. “What is it?”

“I sense something—” She trails off, and her eyes blaze brighter. A piercing blue that would illuminate even the darkest corners. “This way.” She heads toward the landing of the floor below mine and rushes into the hall.

The carpet here is duller. More of a faded brown as we jog toward the apartments. The lights here flicker on and off, loose wiring in an old building and all that, but it’s not until we reach the end that I realize anything is off.

The door to Thomas and Jenny’s apartment is ajar. Dread coils in my belly as I try to listen for anything out of the ordinary. Thanks to my normal senses, though, I can’t hear or smell anything other than the mildew growing on the walls of this floor.

Fiona yanks her secondary blade free from the back of her pants and stalks forward, keeping her body to the side to make herself a smaller target. She reaches out and touches the door with her blade, shoving it open further.

Then, she moves inside. “No,” I hear her whisper.

I rush inside and scream.

Thomas and Jenny lie on the floor, blood soaking the front of their clothes. Jenny is reaching for him, her hand outstretched. His face has been badly battered, the bruising extensive. Grief tears me apart, and I back up as far as I can to put distance between us.

They were our friends.

They had plans.

And now they’re gone.

Thundering footsteps echo down the hall. I turn as Dante and his three security guards come rushing toward us.

“What is it?” Dante demands.

“Jenny and Thomas—” I start, but my voice cracks, shattering beneath the weight of my pain.

His eyes go wide even as a muscle in his jaw tightens. Looking at his men, he nods. Then the four of them rush into the room.

“Fuck!” I hear one of his security guards roar.

“We just found them,” Fiona says.

I gather my courage and take a step closer to the door. Carnage I’ve seen. But never when I can picture the victims laughing and flirting mere days ago. They were so full of life, so happy. Out of all of us, I believed they actually stood a chance at living a normal life.

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