Page 16 of A Wild Darkness

“I’m going to call them.” I lean down and grab one of the untraceable burner phones from the locked drawer in my desk.

“Wait. You’re going to wing it now?”

“Looks like it.” My excited heart pounds against my chest as I tap in each number on the telephone.

“Hello?” a man’s voice answers on the first ring.

“Hi. I received your card from an acquaintance,” I begin, pretending to get it from Andrew before he died, even though one of our guys took it off his dead body.

“Which one?”

“Andrew Hughes.”

“Ah. I am familiar with the hotel heir.” His tone is flat, unfazed. “And what can I do for you?”

I am interested in your…” I pause, thinking through my next word. “Group.”

“And you are?”

Thank god Christian and I discussed a serial killer moniker the last time we spoke, seems to be that this name isn’t being used by any well-known killer at the moment. “The Dark Prince.” My eyes dart over to River’s, and I find him leaning against the window with his arms folded across his chest. Anticipation captures his expression as he waits for my responses.

“And where did you say you got our card from?” he repeats, slightly suspicious as if trying to catch me in a lie.

“Andrew Hughes.”

“Yes.” He blows out a breath as if trying to catch me in a lie. “The first event of the season is the charity’s masquerade ball, occurring at the historic Moore Mansion. Are you familiar with the site?”

They constructed the Moore Mansion in the late 1800s on a small island a short ferry ride away from the city. It was once home to a seedy oil tycoon, but my understanding is that it’s used for private events today. Its seclusion is appealing to organizers who desire a level of anonymity, and with its complicated history, makes the site even more questionable.

“I am.”

“Good. We will see you and your girlfriend this Friday at nine p.m.”

My stomach drops.

Girlfriend? Why does he think I have a girlfriend?

“My girlfriend?”

“Yes. Andrew mentioned he had been looking into finding a couple for us.”

“A couple?”

“Yeah, but we weren’t sure he’d find one. Now”—he clears his throat—“you and your girlfriend will each need to wear a white rose. Yours will be pinned to your lapel, and hers will need to be at the front of her chest so we can identify you. It’s been a while since we’ve had a duo. See you then.”

Then the line goes silent before I get the chance to ask follow-up questions.

I remove the phone from my ear. “He hung up.”

“What did he say?” River rushes out.

“He told me to go to the Moore Mansion on Friday to attend a masquerade ball.” Confusion builds inside me as I rub the skin raw. “With my girlfriend.”

“I heard you say that.” River’s eyebrows furrow. “What’s that all about?”

“No idea. I didn’t get to ask before he ended the call.”

River sighs. “Well. I guess you’re going to need a fake serial killer girlfriend, aren’t you?”