Chapter 26 #3
“Assuming we’re close to some of the blood rooms, it’s not safe for Elise and Sterling to be alone.
The patrons might have a strong craving for Saint blood,” Layla said.
She watched with gentle amusement as Sterling stepped closer to Jamie, rolling his eyes all the while.
He had a Saint gun strapped to his body, but Layla could still see the apprehension tightening his shoulders and pulling the corners of his lips down.
Elise, on the other hand, pressed into Layla’s side with something akin to excitement.
As the group finally split up, with Elise following Layla into a less crowded part of the club, Layla understood why.
It had been years since they had both attended a function like this with better intentions.
At the fundraiser gala, they had both been on edge, with no chance to enjoy the energy or each other’s company.
Now, however, Layla threaded her fingers through Elise’s and pulled her through the crowd with a soft smile on her face.
Elise leaned in beside her, a hushed excitement riding her words as she spoke.
“It’s almost like old times, don’t you think?
When our parents would bring us along to these parties, we would get a chance to dance and be away from the chaos at my house.
I never thought I missed this until now.
Back then, it was always about appearing good enough in my father’s eyes, but now, even as we’re sneaking around, I feel better about it.
Because I have you.” Elise’s voice had lowered to a near whisper at the end, as if she wanted only Layla to hear her small confessions.
Layla stopped at the edge of the crowd, where people were dancing to a live rendition of “Black Bottom Stomp”. She released Elise’s hand only to point to the piano. “You should go next.”
Panic flickered across Elise’s pretty face. “Excuse me?”
“You were great last time, and I think they might even recognize you now because of it,” Layla said. “I miss hearing you play. And like you said, it’s been an eternity since we could be normal, so maybe we take that chance now.”
Though Layla hoped Elise might have found some confidence in her words, she looked more unsure than ever. Elise kept glancing back at the pianist and then at Layla, her mouth pursing and teeth grinding, sometimes on her lower lip. “I did not say it had been an eternity,” Elise hissed.
Layla shrugged and pushed Elise toward the piano. “Five years? Close enough.”
Despite her utter mortification and shaky nerves, Elise did not back down.
She approached the piano as the band began to move off the stage and sat down on the bench without a word.
The room, while still rowdy from applauding the previous band, seemed to settle down enough for her.
Layla watched with piercing eyes. Elise had never been more captivating to her than when she was in her place, with her hands perched on a piano and face struck with concentration.
It was in moments like these that Layla remembered the most from childhood.
Watching her best friend do what she did best and make every song she played fall in love with her right back.
Then, Layla had been unable to keep her eyes and dreams away from Elise.
Now it was no different. Layla stood in front of the crowd with her fingers clasped in front of her and eyes bright on Elise’s quickly turning expression.
Apprehension turned into joy, and Elise relaxed as she settled into a gentle melody.
As the song continued, she seemed to pick up more confidence, her fingers coming down more violently on the keys and her head bobbing slightly to the music.
Even as the crowd began to cheer, she remained focused on the notes she followed in her head.
The peak of the song came around, and the room fell away from Layla.
For a beautiful moment, it was only her and Elise in the room—Layla listening to Elise pour her heart out at the piano and watching her with awestruck eyes.
Her body vibrated under the intensity of Elise’s music.
Layla grew half convinced that the thudding of her heart made up the pounding in the floorboards beneath her feet.
She might have gotten carried away with her wide smile and shining eyes if Elise hadn’t ended the song.
The moment her hands stilled on the keys, the crowd erupted into a round of applause that seemed to shake the room.
Layla was the first one to catch Elise’s eye.
She gave the audience a quick bow, then hurried out of the spotlight.
While people resumed their dancing and excited chatter about the night, Layla could feel only Elise’s trembling body against her own.
Her heart raced from pure adrenaline of being put on the spot, and Layla could have sworn her own heart beat just at the sight of her fully returned happiness.
It was more than a spontaneous performance—it was a reminder of all they had been through to get to this point and all that stood beyond the stage, waiting for them.
“Was it okay?” Elise asked. Her cheeks flushed with a frantic sort of energy, though she smiled.
Layla touched her hand and nodded. “You were magnificent.”
“I just played what I knew, and it felt right.” Elise tucked a curl behind her ear, and Layla noticed the blossoming blush on her cheeks. “That was the first time I didn’t mess up your song.”
Something in Layla’s stomach fluttered. “That was the first time I heard it all the way through.”
A moment of silence passed between them.
From the vulnerability in Elise’s eyes and the aching of her heart in Layla’s chest, she felt like she was brushing up against something beyond either of them.
In the five years of being a reaper, all Layla had tried to do was forget the human feelings she had been torn away from.
As a reaper, there was no love for her parents, no love for human activities, no love for her best friend.
Until now. She stood in the middle of a crowded club with her, servers and dancers pressing in around all sides, yet all Layla could think about was how much she no longer cared about the damnation of it all.
Hell could close in on the world, and she would still turn to Elise, even if the only path left had her soul destined for ruination.
Darkness she had become, and darkness she would return to.
Even if she lived forever, this one part of her life would remain forever light.
The rest of it could have been shrouded in dullness for all she cared.
People would move on, people would die, the world would build new life, new meanings, and rules, but Layla would always stay the same.
If this was the moment she understood herself the most, then this was how she wanted to be defined. By her love, not the loss of it.
So, when Elise pulled her into her arms and coaxed her into a slow dance, Layla went willingly with her.
At first their hands were clasped, with Layla’s other hand on Elise’s shoulder while Elise’s hand rested on her waist. When trying to move closer to her proved futile, Layla frowned. “You hold me at a distance,” she said.
Elise laughed softly. “I hold you in the proper ballroom pose. I think we look dashing and blend in well.”
“We are two women dancing and looking as if we want to devour each other. We do not blend in at all.” Layla rested her hands on Elise’s hips and sighed with contentment as Elise slung her arms around her shoulders. “Much better. And a proper ballroom stance is different.”
“Dance master, are you?” Elise tsk-tsked under her breath and rolled her eyes.
Layla gave her a smug smile. “It is the one thing I was ever good at.”
Elise’s expression softened. “You were great at being my friend.” She scooted closer to Layla to avoid bumping into a spinning woman from behind. Layla’s hands tightened on her waist as their chests pressed together, their hearts beating so close, it might have been impossible to tell them apart.
“Until I was not. And I became the devil,” Layla said.
She remembered her rage-induced hunt from all those years ago and how vicious she had wanted to be if only to scare Elise into never seeing her ever again.
Layla had never anticipated having such easy access to her.
Climbing her wall and tumbling through her window in the middle of the night had shocked them both, but while Elise had frozen in her bed, Layla had taken advantage of her surprise and yanked her out of it.
Before she could even process being on the wrong side of her best friend’s affections, Layla had thrown herself over Elise and began tearing at her throat and chest.
Elise’s soft voice brought her back to the present. “If I must be tricked by the devil, let it be one that wears a familiar, pretty face.”
“I don’t think that’s how that quote goes.” Layla laughed softly.
Something dark flickered in Elise’s gaze, and Layla felt her arms stiffen around her shoulders.
“I was thinking…five years ago, if you had really wanted to kill me, you would have, right? I mean, you were a new reaper; you could not control your urges and your strength then. You obviously wanted me dead, but you didn’t succeed. Why?”
Blood soaked Layla’s vision again. Images of Elise lying limp beneath her with blood seeping through the carpet as it spilled from her chest and dripped from Layla’s shirtfront after it had sprayed in a wild display of violence.
All she could think in that moment was how much more she wanted.
And Layla wanted it all from Elise. She wanted her ruin, she wanted her blood, she wanted every part of her—even if it was to snuff her out with a single squeeze of her fist around her rapidly beating heart.
Layla had licked the blood from her mouth that night and promised herself a feast built on vengeance and brutality.