Chapter Forty-One Saylor
Chapter Forty-One
Saylor
The mirror in Vespera’s workshop reflects someone I barely recognize.
Gone is the girl who sang at White Note in sequined dresses and hoped nobody would notice she was falling apart. The woman
staring back at me has sharp cheekbones courtesy of expert contouring, lips painted dark enough to look like dried blood,
and eyes so dramatically lined they could cut glass. Vespera has given me a wig that transforms my dark hair to platinum blonde,
sleek and straight in a way that completely changes the shape of my face.
“Stop fidgeting,” Vespera says, making final adjustments to the wig that’s giving me this new identity. “You look perfect.
Dangerous and beautiful—exactly what we need.”
The dress she’s chosen makes me look like I belong at the kind of party where people disappear forever. Black silk that hugs
every curve, with a neckline just suggestive enough to be distracting. The heels add four inches to my height and make me
feel like I could step on someone’s throat without breaking stride.
“How do I look?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
“Like death in designer clothing.” Vespera grins with artistic pride. “Blue is going to swallow his tongue when he sees you.”
Through the workshop windows, I can see Blue pacing in the clearing beyond Vespera’s house. He’s been out there for twenty
minutes, checking his watch and running his hands through his hair. The sight makes my stomach flutter with something that
isn’t fear.
“Remind me of the story again so I don’t fuck this up,” I say, smoothing the silk over my hips and still getting used to how
the dress moves.
“You’re Scarlett Rose, the daughter of a recently deceased arms dealer from London.
Word on the street is that you’re looking to expand Daddy’s old business relationships, and you’ve heard Brutus runs the most efficient operation on the West Coast.” Vespera hands me a small evening bag that matches the dress perfectly.
“Ash’s contacts have been spreading rumors about you for weeks.
Tonight’s their monthly celebration—they think they’re meeting a potential new business partner with deep pockets and flexible morals. ”
Inside the bag are my instruments of destruction: a dozen tiny blue spheres that look like decorative beads, each one capable
of killing a grown man in ten minutes. Enough to wipe out every Crow in that lodge, with a few extra for good measure.
“They’re celebrating what they think is Blue’s death,” Vespera continues, applying a final coat of lipstick to my mouth. “Word
spread that some rival outfit took him out with a car bomb in Portland. Same explosion supposedly killed his girlfriend too—meaning
you’re officially dead as well.” She pauses, her smile turning vicious. “Ash has been working overtime selling the story.
All of Grimlock is in mourning, and the few locals who’ve spotted Blue around Maison Rouge swear they’re seeing his ghost.
The man’s going to be absolutely legendary when he rises from the dead after this is all over.”
I stare at my reflection one more time. The woman in the mirror looks capable of anything. She looks like someone who could
walk into a room full of killers and walk out alone.
She looks like someone who could get justice for her father.
“I’m ready,” I say, and for the first time in five years, I mean it.
Vespera opens the workshop door, and Blue nearly trips over his own feet when he sees me. His eyes travel from my face to
my dress to my legs and back again, and the heat in his gaze makes my pulse race.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “Saylor?”
“Scarlett Rose, actually,” I say, letting a posh British accent slip into my voice as I practice the sultry tone I’ll need
for tonight. “Pleased to meet you.”
Blue approaches slowly, like he’s afraid I might disappear if he moves too fast. “You look . . .” He stops, swallows hard.
“You look like you could kill every man in that room without breaking a sweat.”
“That’s the idea.”
He reaches out to touch my cheek, his thumb tracing the sharp line Vespera created with her contouring. “Are you sure about this? You’ll have to be Scarlett Rose completely. No hesitation, no second-guessing. I won’t be there beside you.”
“You’re a good teacher,” I say, leaning into his touch. “I’ve got this. It’s what I’ve been waiting for.” I smile and give
him a wink. “I’m an A student after all.”
His eyes darken with pride and something hungrier. “Good girl,” he murmurs, then kisses me with enough heat to melt steel.
When we break apart, I’m breathless but steady. “Besides, you’re retired, remember. Let’s get you back on the wagon. But I
also know you’ll be watching from the woods. If anything goes wrong—”
“If anything goes wrong, murder sober or not, I’m coming in after you.” His voice carries a promise that makes my chest tight.
“Consequences be damned.”
Vespera clears her throat delicately. “Much as I love watching you two have a moment, we’re on a schedule. Scarlett needs
time to make her entrance.”
Blue nods reluctantly but doesn’t step away from me. “Remember what we practiced. You’re confident, you’re mysterious, and
you’re absolutely lethal. Everything else is just acting.”
“I’m not acting anymore,” I say quietly. “This is who I am now.”
The look he gives me could burn down cities—pride mixed with hunger and a darkness that matches my own. “Then go show them
what Peter Mitchell’s daughter is capable of.”
I kiss him once, hard and desperate, then follow Vespera to the car that will take me to the Crow lodge. As we drive through
the Witchwood toward my destiny, I practice being Scarlett Rose in my head.
Scarlett Rose doesn’t throw up at the sight of blood.
Scarlett Rose doesn’t hesitate when it’s time to kill.
Scarlett Rose gets what she wants, and what she wants is every Crow in that lodge dead by midnight.
The headlights cut through the darkness ahead, and I can see yellow light spilling from the windows of the hunting lodge where
my father’s killers are gathering to celebrate another successful year of being monsters.
By the time the sun rises, they’ll all be corpses.
And I’ll finally be free.