CHAPTER TWO
Sara
Islipped the handwritten note under Dev’s door and scurried back into my apartment. I was taking a risk, I knew that. But I was getting restless. I needed to get The Obscuritas Princes under my thumb now. Dev had come by the apartment after he closed the bar, and I could barely keep my raging libido in check. What was with me these days? We talked about having a movie night, but that date with Dev would have to wait because tonight, I was hunting. Despite the strange desire I had to wrap myself in his arms, I needed to focus on the reasons I was here in the first place. I pulled out my phone and dialed Tibby’s number.
“Reporting for duty, Nova,” her big voice boomed into my earpiece.
“Why are you always shouting?” I grumbled, grabbing my backpack.
I stuffed it with extra leggings and my favorite blade, a small, unadorned dagger. I picked up the dainty chain that held my mother’s key and placed it around my neck. I knew it was a keepsake I should hide away, but I felt safer with it on me. The skeleton key was one of the only things I had from my mother and father, from my life before. I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath, remembering that day.
“My fierce little warrior,” Joseph Bronwen whispered, tucking a hair behind my ear, his face grim. “I have to go away now. I’m taking your sister somewhere safe. And you will be safe here.”
Tears burned my eyes. “Why can’t I go with you?”
“It’s not safe for us to be together,” my father whispered.
We sat in the back pews of a church in some small town we stopped at after driving for hours. I wasn’t even sure what state we were in. My father cupped my face, wiping away my tears.
“You are stronger than all of us, Seraphina. I must go and hide your sister from the men who killed Lailah.”
“Where’s mom?” I whispered for the hundredth time.
“She’s keeping us all safe,” my father responded for the hundredth time, a lie we both knew he had to tell. He wouldn’t say anything else about the night before last, and I pretended not to know she was dead. Joseph pulled out an old skeleton key made of gold. “This is for you, Seraphina. When the time is right, you will find what you need from…from your mother’s family. Can you keep it safe for her until then?”
I nodded, accepting the key but uncertain about the rest. I didn’t know a thing about my mother’s family. Only that they were very far away.
“Don’t show it to anyone, it’s yours alone, okay?” Joseph whispered, his voice serious.
“I’ll keep it safe until mom comes back for it.”
I kept my eyes on the key. I didn’t want to look up and see the truth in my father’s eyes. My mother wasn’t coming back. And I wouldn’t see him or my sister, Michaela, ever again. I knew it deep in my bones. Something was waking up inside me. I couldn’t understand it but I knew everything was changing.
“Sara?” Tibby’s voice cut through my trip down memory lane. “You there?”
I shook my head, forcing the memories out of my mind. “I’m here.”
“What’s the plan tonight?” Tibby asked, the keys of her keyboard clicking in the background.
“I plan to scare the shit out of the local drunk, pump him for information, kill him, then let out my frustration at missing my date with Dev by singing at the club.” Those last words escaped my traitorous mouth before I even knew what happened as I shoved open my window and slid down the fire escape.
Tibby’s typing stopped short. “Your what now? Date? With Dev?”
“Did I not mention that?” I smirked, straddling my bike and grateful she couldn’t see my burning cheeks. “He sort of asked me out last night. And I figured it would be a good chance to do some recon.”
Tibby scoffed. “Recon, yeah? Will you be reconning on his dick or…?”
I barked a laugh, and my stomach dropped. “If I have to take one for the team, I will.”
“And what a chore that would be. It’s a damn shame I couldn’t find a single dick pic of that man on the internet. What a prude.”
I snorted a laugh. “Like he could even give me an actual orgasm. You know it’s all for show.”
Tibby mumbled something unintelligible, and I knew she didn’t believe me. I rolled my eyes, starting the ignition on my bike and moving down the alley, away from the bar.
Tibby was a tech-savvy queen and found all the dirt on the four men I planned to murder for the crimes against my family. Dev was squeaky clean other than a few arrests for fighting. The charges were always dropped, though, and we figured The Obscuritas were behind that, even if Dev wasn’t an active member.
“So, this guy Jackson is a member.” Tibby snorted, typing away. “He’s a lowlife. A cheater. I’ve caught him on cameras leaving casinos and clubs with new girls on the reg. His wife is honestly just as bad. Also a cheater. Sleeping with one of the other mechanics at his shop.”
I gagged. “They can both rot for all I care. Maybe I can get some information out of her too.”
“She spends a lot of time sending nudes to other men. Doesn’t look like she’s got any meaningful tattoos. I don’t think she’s a member.”
I sped through the city, ignoring traffic lights, and parked my bike a block down from Jackson’s garage. “Guess I better make this count then.”
“Have fun. See you later, Nova.”
“Save me a seat at the bar.”
I ended the call and stayed in the shadows as I walked to the garage. I didn’t need Tibby for this particular mission but I kept the earpiece in, just in case. The lights were off inside. I knew he was alone.
Jackson only had two cameras in the shop, and Tibby had already tapped into them to make sure his employees were long gone. I checked my phone. I had forty-five minutes before I had to be at the club, which meant I had approximately seventeen minutes to fuck with this prick. I opened the front door, unlocked of course. What an idiot. I slipped inside and crept toward the Chevelle Jackson had tucked in the back. I said a silent prayer to the muscle car gods asking forgiveness for what I was about to do. Poor thing wouldn’t make it out of this unscathed, but that was Jackson’s fault.
I climbed onto the hood of the car and tossed my leather jacket on a toolbox. Jackson stumbled around in his office, making a ruckus as he ran into everything. I adjusted my black corset top, pushing up my cleavage, and leaned back on the cool metal. Beauty was a weapon, one I could use easily against vile men like the one I had in my sights.
“Oh, Jackson!” I sang out the words with a smile. “Time to come out and play.”
He stumbled toward the back of the garage, knocking over tools as his steps faltered, likely trashed. He staggered into view, his eyes going wide and ogling my body. I fought the urge to vomit.
“Hello, blue birdie,” Jackson slurred, leaning on the hood and staring directly at my tits.
I slid off the hood and cocked my hip, eying him with a shy smile. “Want to play a game?”
“Fuck yeah.”
I grinned, batting my lashes and licking my lips. “Close your eyes, big boy.”
Jackson leaned back against the passenger side of the car and closed his eyes. His hands moved to his pants, unbuckling his belt and dropping the dad jeans to his feet. I grabbed a pair of handcuffs and slid one around his wrist, attaching the other to the side mirror of the car.
“You’re a wild bitch, ain’t ya?” Jackson grunted, his eyes still closed.
“Can’t help it. You got me all hot and bothered.” I whispered the words, dropping my tone and trying not to laugh.
Was he really buying this shit? I noted his lack of a hard-on and figured too much whiskey was a regular issue. No wonder his wife was looking elsewhere to get hers.
“Tell me a secret, Jackson,” I whispered as I pulled out my blade, the metal glittering in the dark.
I grabbed a piece of rope, tied it to Jackson’s other wrist, and yanked. His eyes popped open, and he yelped.
“What the fuck?” Jackson’s eyes bugged out of his skull at the sharp blade. His gaze darted wildly between the cuffed wrist and the arm I now yanked away, stretching him wider. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I tisked, shaking my head as I tugged the rope, stretching him further away from the car and straining his shoulders. He grunted in pain, and I smiled. “Tell me, Jackson. What exactly does a piece of shit like you do for The Obscuritas?”
His mouth clamped shut. At least he had some loyalty to his masters. I tugged the rope further, and he gritted his teeth.
“I dunno what you’re talking about.”
“I’ve seen the tattoo, asswipe. All the little lackeys have the same one. I need information. If I don’t get it, I might have to start cutting you into tiny pieces.”
“Fuck you. You’re bluffing,” he spat.
I pulled the rope tight, tying it off to a pole on the far side of the garage. I twirled the blade lazily and smiled.
“Sadly, I’m not. Let’s see. Where to start? The ears? Hmmm…not the tongue. What about your dick? I doubt you use it much anyway.” I stalked toward him. “Let’s start with something a little smaller.”
I soaked a rag in motor oil and stuffed it into his mouth before he could scream. Then I straightened his fisted hand and sliced off his pinky, my knife smoothly cutting through flesh and bone like soft butter. Jackson screamed and choked on the rag in his mouth as his blood dripped to the floor. I grinned again and tugged out the rag.
“You fucking bitch. They’ll kill you.” Saliva dripped from his mouth as he cursed at me.
I slid the blade along his chest, causing him to jerk back. “Perhaps. But right now, I’m going to kill you. Unless you give me what I want. Where have the founders been staying? I know it isn’t at Vespertine Hall. So where are they hiding out?”
“I dunno. I swear.” He slurred the words, and fear filled his glazed eyes.
Before Jackson could clamp his mouth shut, I stuffed the rag back in, then sliced off his other pinky, just to keep things symmetrical. His eyes watered as he tried to scream. I ripped the rag out and jumped back as he puked all over the garage floor.
“Gross. You’re a fucking wimp, Jackson. How did they even let you into their little cult?”
Jackson panted, sucking in breaths as he cried. “Samuel Delano is my cousin.”
Levi’s father.I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow. Tibby had done some research on Jackson to help me prepare for tonight, so I already knew he was a relative of Levi’s.
“So? The founders aren’t exactly sentimental. What would one of the Kings want with you?”
He gritted his teeth, and I grabbed the rag. “No, wait. I’m…I’m watching Devon Parrish.”
“Why?” My head cocked curiously, and I traced my blade across his chest.
Jackson shook his head, sweat coating his skin. “I dunno. He’s important to whatever is coming. They don’t tell me much.”
“Shocking. Where are the founders, Jackson?” I slapped him across the face. Hard. “Where are the fucking Kings?!” I screamed at him, my frustration building.
“I dunno. I swear. It’s someplace out of state, I think. South, maybe. I heard Sam say something about going to North Carolina once or twice.”
Interesting. I hadn’t heard anything about a location in North Carolina, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. “Well, that was marginally useful.” Jackson sighed heavily, and I laughed. “Unfortunately, you’re still going to die.”
His eyes went wide. “But I told you everything I know.”
I nodded with a cruel smile. “You did. But I can’t have you squealing to your friends. And you’re a squealer, Jackson. I sliced off two little fingers, and you sang like a canary. And you stuck your tongue down my throat without permission. You’re a lying, cheating piece of shit and you don’t deserve any mercy from me.”
“Fuck you! They’ll find you and they’ll kill you!” he screamed, tugging on the rope and the cuffs as blood dripped to the concrete floor from his mangled hands.
I stuffed the rag back into his mouth and dumped the gallon of oil onto the floor. Circling back toward Jackson, I sliced the rope, swiftly wrapping it around his neck and pulling tight as I slammed him to the ground. His head cracked against the concrete, and he groaned. I crouched down near his face as blood pooled from the wound.
“Not if I find them first, big boy,” I whispered, pulling a Zippo from his pocket. “Enjoy hell.”
I uncuffed his other hand and pocketed the handcuffs and my blade. I grabbed my jacket and the oil container, leaving a trickle in my wake. I flipped Jackson’s lighter and tossed it to the ground. The oil burst into flames, along with everything else in the garage. Jackson’s screams grew higher in pitch as his body began to burn.
I wish I could say it was music to my ears, but like everything else, the sounds faded away, sucked into the eternal darkness that lived inside me. I didn’t care if he died. I didn’t care if he lived either. I just didn’t care.
The flames grew rapidly, and the heat licked against my skin. I stared into the fire and suddenly I heard them. The screams of my first victims, two innocent little girls. The sound pierced my ears, and my body froze. I wanted to reach out, to go to them, but I was stuck, staring into the fire I created and listening to them burn. They called to me, and my body lurched forward, toward the fire. They called to me, begged me to save them.
“SERAPHINA!” Tibby shouted my full name into the earpiece, and I choked on smoke.
I jumped away from the fire and shook the voices from my head. Fuck.
“Sara! What the fuck. Answer me dammit!” Tibby shouted as the sirens blared, drawing closer.
I turned and ran. “I’m okay.” I choked out the words, my voice shaking.
“What the fuck just happened?” Her voice was panicked.
I shook my head again to clear it. “I just got caught in a memory. I don’t know. I’m okay. I’m nearly back to my bike. See you soon.”
Fire trucks arrived just as I turned the corner into the alley where my bike was hidden. I quickly shoved on my helmet before straddling the seat and speeding away. They wouldn’t make it in time to save Jackson, at least. The gloves I wore made sure I left no fingerprints. No trace that I was ever there. Tibby hacked every camera in the area that could possibly tag me. Jackson’s death would remain either unsolved or, more likely, declared accidental. From the alcohol in his blood and the lack of any stolen property, the cops would assume the drunk finally fucked himself, dying from his own stupidity. The Obscuritas would cover the rest, if they even looked into it.
I gunned the engine, speeding onto the highway toward downtown Boston. Yvonne’s was a fairly well-known restaurant in town. What most people didn’t know about was the burlesque club hidden beneath it. There was a secret entrance to the club, and only very few people were allowed in. Luckily for me, I’d made friends with some of the dancers and immediately got a job offer. But I wasn’t there to dance. I preferred to sing. Singing at the club brought a tiny piece of my soul back to life. A tiny piece of my dark heart pulsed when I sang, when I listened to a beautiful melody. Music called to the part of me that died with my mother and sister.
When my father left me behind, my heart nearly cracked in half. But I would find him and Michaela, no matter the cost. They weren’t dead, I just knew it, had to believe it. As much as it pained me to remember any of them, I pulled that spark of light out of the abyss again and again. I was a glutton for punishment and apparently a sucker for the biggest lie of all. Hope.
I found Tibby seated at the mahogany bar that dominated the back wall of the club. She wore a white crop top and skin-tight, black leather pants. Her bright-pink heels matched the color of her blunt bob wig. Her brown eyes glittered with mischief as she watched the new, muscular bartender mixing drinks.
Three stages flanked the wall opposite of the bar, with metal cages between the roped-off VIP booths along the adjacent walls. Women decorated in glitter and stage makeup danced in the cages, catching the greedy eyes of men and women alike. The women in cages were available for purchase for the night. I watched as one of the bouncers unlocked a cage and led Maxine into a VIP booth. The velvet curtain dropped back into place before I could see who was hiding behind it, but Tibby had cameras hidden in every booth. If someone worth knowing about was here, she’d tell me. The twins, Josie and Lottie, were currently on the main stage performing their aerial silks act. Dominique, La Noircoeur’s owner, tried to get me into their act, but I refused. I enjoyed practicing with them, and after spending a few of my teen years living in a gymnastics center, I was the obvious choice. But I didn’t learn gymnastics to be a performer. I learned to be a hunter.
The memories of my early teen years barreled into my mind. I ran away from the final foster house when I was fifteen. My heart had finally broken into irreparable pieces. I’d lost my virginity, lost my family, lost everything that was me. I slept on the streets or in abandoned buildings and rarely ate. On a particularly cold and rainy night in Myrtle Beach, I snuck into a gym near the boardwalk and tried to sleep in a bathroom, only to have the owner and gymnastics coach, Connor Rigby, discover me the following morning. Instead of kicking me out, he offered me a job. I manned the front desk and cleaned the equipment and locker rooms. He turned a storage room into a mini bedroom for me. Rigby was the first and only man I decided to trust again after my father abandoned me and took away my last living sister.
Rigby had two daughters of his own, one a gymnast, the other a semi-pro volleyball player. He coached competitive gymnastics and self-defense classes. After two months of work, I started taking the classes. Pushing my body to the absolute limit became sort of an obsession. And, like everything else in my life, the brief happiness turned to ash because I chose to trust another father figure, and he turned out to be a pedophile. So I burned his gym to the ground, with him inside it. Cold satisfaction turned to endless guilt when I realized too late his daughters were inside the building too. They weren’t supposed to be there. That night, I became someone else. Someone cold, unfeeling, and set on vengeance. People were going to die on my quest for justice, and feelings got in the way. Innocent people, just like my sisters, like his daughters, would continue to die until someone stopped the evil men of The Obscuritas, and that someone was me.
A raucous round of applause pulled me out of the dark memories as I straddled the bar stool next to Tibby. I had about fifteen minutes before my own act.
Tibby slid a vodka tonic toward me, her face a mask of calm. “How’d it go?”
“Cried like a fucking baby.” I smirked, sipping the cool liquid and letting it soak up the bad memories stuck in my head. “Bled out like a regular human.”
Tibby was the only person who knew of my accelerated healing abilities. And so far, we hadn’t found anyone else like me. As far as I knew, I wasn’t hiding any other super powers.
Tibby grinned manically. “Not surprised. Too trashy to be anything else. I’m monitoring his wife to see if she does anything interesting once she finds out he’s dead.”
I nodded, scanning the room. “Good.”
Tibby cleared her throat. “You good, Sara? You scared the shit out of me.”
I gulped down the rest of my drink, enjoying the burn of liquor splashing against my throat. “I’m fine. Just got a little distracted.”
She frowned, but let it go for now. “There’s something else,” she whispered. “The mansion burned to the ground.”
“Interesting.” I didn’t burn the mansion, not intentionally, at least. And I couldn’t remember seeing anything on fire when I left.
Tibby rolled her eyes. “Not interesting. You just burned someone else to a crisp. Perhaps the police will see a connection. I know it wasn’t us. I checked the cameras and didn’t see anyone show up until the police arrived with Samuel Delano.”
I shook my head. “The dark lord douche kings would never let that happen. Then the police would be looking into them as well.” I felt eyes on me and scanned the room again for any overly attentive gazes turned our way.
“Someone is here to see you,” Tibby raised an eyebrow, her eyes darting across the crowded tables.
I followed her gaze. Dev was sitting at a small table near the stage. I licked my lips, and Tibby snorted, but I couldn’t help it. He looked delicious. He wore dark jeans and a white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos. One hand rested on his thigh while the other stroked the short glass of whiskey on the table. His dark hair was swept back in a messy but stylized way. Dev watched the crowd, his bright-green eyes scanning the room with the preternatural ease of a predator. But he couldn’t see me unless he turned around fully.
“What a strange coincidence,” I purred with a devilish smile.
Tibby snorted a laugh. “Sure, like you didn’t invite him.”
I shrugged innocently. “I might have mentioned it in the note I slipped under his door earlier.”
“And how is this part of your plan?” Tibby’s eyebrows rose up into her pink hair. Her matching pink lips tipped up into a smile worthy of the Cheshire Cat.
“I had a feeling my little meeting earlier would be a bust, even with all the torturing bits. He was too low on the food chain. I need to aim higher.” I dropped my voice, leaning closer to Tibby. “I saw a strange tattoo on Dev and I think I remember it. The men who murdered Lailah and my mother had similar markings. I know it was the founders who took her and I’d wager all four of the Princes have the same tattoos. It means something, and I’m going to find out what that is. Jackson said one of the founders talked about going to North Carolina. I need you to look into it. Weird money trails to big properties, strange deaths, anything out of the ordinary.”
Tibby saluted me, leaning back. “Got it, boss lady.”
I hopped off the stool, grabbing the fresh vodka tonic the bartender slid toward me. “Thanks, Ryan.”
“Break a leg, Sara.” He winked. He was cute, not much taller than me, but stacked with muscles. His blond hair was trimmed neatly, and he was always clean-shaven. A little too cleaned up for my tastes, but his British accent made all the other girls feral.
I gave a little salute as I walked away toward the dressing rooms.
“So, Ryan, is it?” Tibby turned on the charm. She was beautiful and feisty, just his type. And like Tibby, he had no problems bringing extra bodies into the bedroom for a good time. Where I liked to wallow in darkness alone, Tibby preferred to keep her demons at bay by surrounding herself with naked bodies and regaling me with stories of her multiple orgasms.
I ducked into my own little dressing room and stripped out of the black clothes. The faint scent of smoke clung to my clothes, and I stuffed them in a mint-scented trash bag to mask the smell. My hair didn’t smell too bad, but I spritzed the strands with a scented dry shampoo just to be safe. I slipped a shimmering gold dress out of the garment bag and dropped it over my head. The sleeveless dress hugged my curves, pooling around my feet. The corset boning of the top half propped up my cleavage, and I deftly buttoned up the back. I pinned my blue locks and secured the Marilyn Monroe wig against my hair. I kept the brown contacts in and added bright-red lipstick, quickly touching up the winged eyeliner and false lashes. I leaned against the doorframe as I strapped the gold heels to my feet, humming the song I planned on singing to loosen my vocal chords. The silk gloves I saved for last, slipping them up my arms before opening the door.
Josie popped her bright-red head into my room with a smile. Her cropped hair was a new color almost every other week. “Need any help?”
I shook my head, standing tall in my four-inch heels. “Nope. Ready to rock.”
“Go show them who runs the world, girl.” Josie winked, shimmying her chest, and I laughed.
“Always.” I grinned.
My stomach was full of excited butterflies, and my skin tingled with anticipation. I wasn’t much for center stage, but dressed up like this, no one had a clue who I was. No one ever did. My voice might be well-known at the club, but I dressed in wigs, makeup, and contacts to hide the real me from the crowd. I pointedly ignored the extra nerves that might or might not have been because of the very sexy Obscuritas Prince in the crowd.
A rush of adrenaline spiked in my blood as I settled my face into a seductive smile and sauntered onto the stage. The lights dimmed until only a golden light shone on my vintage microphone where the stand manager had placed it at center stage for me. The crowd buzzed with excitement as I stepped into the spotlight. A few low whistles pierced the hushed silence.
I looked up, keeping my gaze hooded and my lips slightly parted. I spotted Dev in the crowd. His eyes were wide with shock, and I gave him a wink. His gaze traveled from my gold heels to my blonde wig, and he smirked devilishly. My body heated under his undivided attention.
The low musical notes of the song began to play, and I pressed my lips close to the mic, running my hands down the curves of my hips. “As the mesmerizing Mae West once said,” I whispered huskily into the mic. “Anything worth doing, is worth doing slowly.”
The beat dropped and I sang out the first line of the song, letting the crowd fade away as I fell into the beauty of the music around me. “Ooh…oohhhh…” I sang out the lyrics to “A Guy What Takes His Time,” drawing the audience in to feel what I wanted them to feel. Lust.