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PROLOGUE

Petra Brink was feeling stressed to the nines. Time wasn’t just running out; it was long gone. Working overtime at her part-time bartender job last night had meant she’d ended up sleeping through her six a.m. alarm this morning. Now, she had to be back at university in just a couple of hours, and there was still a chunk of this assignment to get through.

Already overloaded with pressure, she gritted her teeth when she heard the front door open. That meant that her housemate Antoinette would be arriving home.

And that meant the bathroom was likely to be unavailable for the next hour if Antoinette had been to the gym, or yoga, or any of the morning exercise classes she attended. As a model, who was high profile on social media, her naturally gorgeous housemate needed to look well-groomed and flawless all the time, even post-workout.

But she could spend longer in the bathroom than any other living soul Petra knew, and if she commandeered it, then Petra wouldn’t get a chance to have a lightning-fast shower before rushing off for her class. And after a long night of bartending in a smoky environment and having fallen straight into bed, exhausted, when she got home, she needed that shower.

Grimacing as worry filled her, she considered her options. The only one she could think of would be to rush down the corridor now and get in there before Antoinette. Then she could have her shower, which she could do in ten minutes flat.

It wasn’t ideal. She was in the middle of a particularly tricky set of calculations for this assignment and didn’t want her train of thought to be interrupted. But she was going to have to. Her morning really was turning out to be a disaster, and it was all her fault for having overslept.

Then, as she listened, she heard what might just save the day—another set of footsteps, coming in.

Okay, so that meant Antoinette had brought a friend back. Possibly a boyfriend, or else she might be planning on doing a social media video with someone. That would make sense. And it meant they’d be busy, most likely in the living room, either chatting or filming.

She returned to her calculation, now feeling much more relaxed that she was able to give it all her focus and as if she’d had a lucky save.

Quickly, she finished that math problem and the next, relieved that this particular math assignment seemed to be working out perfectly. She felt on top of things. That didn’t always happen, and she was glad that this time, it had saved a couple of precious minutes in her pressured morning.

Now, she probably should run for that shower, because she had no idea how long the friend would stay. Although, as she listened, Petra realized something strange. She couldn’t hear any voices at all.

Had they come and gone? They must have, and because she’d been so focused on her work, she hadn’t heard them.

That must have been what had happened, because as she grabbed her towel and headed down the corridor to the bathroom, she couldn’t hear anything at all. Nothing. Not the murmur of voices, not the sound of music playing from a phone, not the clink of coffee cups.

Then, staring ahead, she realized with a jolt that the apartment's front door was open.

Wide open in an area where there had been several burglaries?

Concerned, Petra called out, "Ants, do you know the door's open?"

Nothing.

Maybe she'd gone downstairs again, or maybe she was saying goodbye to this friend outside. But even so, the door should at least be closed. Anyone could walk past and veer inside. Antoinette's blue purse was on the hall table.

"Are you there?" Now, hurrying to the front door, Petra had no idea if Antoinette had taken her keys with her. She couldn't exactly lock out her housemate. She'd have to leave the door unlocked while she had her shower, which wasn’t ideal.

As she passed the door to the living room, she glanced inside just in case Antoinette had her earphones in and had genuinely forgotten about the door.

There was nobody seated on either of the black leather couches.

Petra turned away. But then she turned back, frowning, because there was something she’d noticed in the room, something she was only picking up now—a weird, metallic smell emanating from that tidy and usually fragrant room.

It was making her feel strangely uneasy, as if alarm bells that she hadn't even known about were shrilling at the back of her mind. She turned again, stepped farther into the room, and took another look.

It was then that she saw the heel of the shoe—that lime green, stiletto heeled boot that was Antoinette's favorite footwear—lying on the ground.

And beyond it, as she craned around the corner with a feeling of horror, was the other boot, lying on the ground with Antoinette's long, slim legs inside them. Beyond that, her body was face up, unmoving.

She was sprawled in the corner of the living room, staring up, sightlessly. The gash in her throat was huge and ugly and bloody, and there was more blood, too, from stab wounds—terrible knife wounds—on her chest and arms.

Petra screamed, and backing away, she screamed some more.

CHAPTER ONE

Cami Lark felt as if she was shrouded in sadness, guilt, and regret. And the only way she could dig herself out of her despair was to try to expose the evil that she knew, for sure, was lurking in the background of this situation.

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