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To my surprise, Ivy’s soft fingers slip through mine. Hers are sticky from dried blood, but it doesn’t bother me. It shows she trusts me. Freddie and Callen have lost her trust, but she still wants me to be part of this, and I won’t lose her. Not again.
“If you’re helping me, I have one condition,” she says. “Spencer is mine.”
I squeeze her hand in agreement. This isn’t how I wanted to bring her happiness. I wanted to show her there was another way, but maybe she was right. None of this could be over until Spencer took his last breath. She can’t leave her past behind until justice has been delivered. Spencer started this nightmare, and it was time we ended it.
Afterwards, we could start putting the shattered fragments of her life back together. Unfortunately, a nagging voice in the back of my head tells me it won’t be that simple… it never is.
CHAPTER 2
SEB
“This is better. Now move,” Daisy commands, pushing me into a nearby room by nudging her knife into my spine. We’re stood in a windowless study lined with dusty bookshelves. She turns a key in the door lock and pockets it as soon as she steps inside. This is too perfect. She must have scoped the venue in advance. “We can be more comfortable here, don’t you think?”
She inspects the knife in her hand, turning it around to catch the light, then slides one finger up the side of the blade to mop up the droplets of my blood. A red patch soaks through the fabric of my white shirt from where she struck me with her blade. A promise of worse things to come.
“I wouldn’t say comfortable,” I reply sarcastically, picking up a first-edition book to my right and admiring the cover. “I’ve never been a big reader.”
“Shame,” she says. “You might have enjoyed it if you tried.”
I slide the book back onto the shelf and ask, “What do you want?”
She smiles. A smile that makes my heart seize for the briefest second because of the similarities between her and Ivy. They’re so alike. Does she know about Ivy or is she just as clueless about Ivy’s existence?
“I’m sure you already know what I want, Sebastian,” she says, sighing like our conversation is boring her. “Stephanie made the conditions of her deal very clear. You didn’t reply to her demands or agree to work with us, so I’m here to take from you what I took from Beatrice. Your life.”
I laugh, a deep belly rumble that makes her frown. When faced with a threat, she probably expected me to beg or backtrack on Freddie’s decision, but I’m not one of her usual targets.
“Do you think killing me is really going to fix things, Florence?” I mock, trying to throw her further off guard.
In the next room, funeral-goers still mill around. They’ll be making polite conversation over champagne, completely oblivious to how I might get gutted like a fish at any second. I won’t let that happen, though. I don’t want to hurt her, but I will if I have to. I’ve seen what the Killers Club do to people. They’re a brainwashing cult. How far has Stephanie and Alaric polluted Daisy’s mind like they did Ivy’s?
“Maybe not,” she replies, reaching into her pocket. I brace myself, then frown when she plucks out a pretty lotus flower. She drops it to the floor, letting it flutter and land gracefully at her feet. “But killing you would certainly boost my mood. Funerals are a bore.”
“It was you.” I nod at the lotus flower. I’ve seen one of those once before. “You tried to kill Callen.”
She must have been the mysterious hooded figure who narrowly escaped our chase.
“The lotus is my signature,” she explains. “I suppose it doesn’t hurt for you to know that now. Do you know what it means?”
I shake my head.
“Rebirth,” she answers. “Do you believe in life after death, Sebastian?”
I don’t reply, keeping my lips pressed into a tight line as I scour the area for anything I can use as a weapon or to subdue her temporarily. I could use brute force, but hitting a woman isn’t my style.
“Beatrice believed in it,” Daisy continues, tucking her knife away and pulling out a syringe filled with clear liquid. “Right before I slid a needle into her neck, our dear old friend Bea told me all about how she thought heaven would have an endless supply of shoes. You know, all she ever really wanted was your love. You were all she droned on about. I think she’d appreciate you joining her on today of all days.”
She advances, and I curl my fists. She glances at my hands and laughs, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
“Did you think I’d come here alone after what happened last time?” She shakes her head and clicks her fingers. “We don’t like to be humiliated twice, do we?”
Only she’s not talking to me this time. I spin to see a giant figure emerge from behind a bookcase. Shit. The guy is built like Bram on steroids. I have speed and quick thinking on my side, but he has sheer size and force. I’m in trouble.
“No,” the man sneers. “We don’t.”
He looks familiar, but I can’t place him from memory. I’m sure we’ve met before. If he knows me, he doesn’t let on and edges in my direction as Daisy sits on the desk to watch the show. His eyes light up, watching her dress slip higher, revealing her toned thighs. From the mischievous glint in his eyes and how she doesn’t call him out, I’d guess they’re lovers. Yep, I’m in seriously deep shit. I’d do anything for Ivy—hell, I’d kill for her if she asked me to—and this monster looks at Daisy with the same level of devotion.
“Get our new friend into a more comfortable position, Hale,” she instructs while twirling the syringe in her fingers. “An overdose at a funeral has a certain climactic feel. The newspapers will have a field day. I can imagine the headlines now.”
