Chapter Thirty-Two Wren #2
I clenched my hands into fists, pressing the sharp tips of my nails to bite into my palms. The pain distracted me from the blow of my reality, but with Damien gone and the house silent, it wasn’t enough. I had to move. To do something.
Walking into Callie’s room, I went to her vanity, searching for something to cover up the purplish-pink bruise Damien had left on my neck. I shook my head as I ran my fingers over it, the flashes of memory assaulting me and causing my cheeks to heat. Again.
Focus, Wren.
I finally found her powders in her vanity’s top drawer and went to work. In the end, it covered most of the mark, but I’d have to wear my hair over that side of my head for the remainder of the day. With a sigh, I shoved her drawer closed, only to hear a clicking noise.
Pulling on the handle of the second drawer, I gazed upon the contents, finding nothing but more makeup and hair clips. It must have been one of them—
I froze.
Underneath a compact mirror, half hidden by accessories, were torn-up pieces of black and gold. Carefully, I extracted the ripped fragments, placing them on the desk. Moving the jagged papers around, I made whole what had once been a small business card.
The Black Dahlia was written in golden script, listing an address and nothing more.
That had been where Damien said he went when he chased after the hooded man—Everett—from the docks. Where he heard him talk to a woman who demanded he remove his thief of a brother from the equation.
Damien and I hadn’t delved into that topic last night. I honestly had been too exhausted to understand or try to broach the subject, and pushing him was the last thing I wanted to do.
But why did Callie have this card at all? Why had she ripped it to shreds?
Another memory flashed.
I’d seen this card before—
Mother’s hooded cloak. This card had been buried deep in its pockets.
Standing, I abandoned Callie’s room for mine, my thoughts drowned out by a droning in my ears. I felt tingles race up my legs with each step, my thoughts screaming Danger.
I didn’t think before I donned a simple light pink dress I was able to slip on by myself and placed two long black pins in my hair. Tugging on my boots, I left my home, my feet moving stiffly as I navigated the streets.
I hardly paid attention to the passersby as they debated Dusk’s return and “that horrid incident in the south last night.” Could hardly see but a few steps in front of me. It was as if I floated down the street, numb and thoughtless, frost cooling my blood.
The Black Dahlia—
A place neither Callie nor Mother would ever be caught dead frequenting.
When I made it to the Broken Wing Tavern, Ruby was already at the bar.
Well before noon, she didn’t hesitate to gulp down a hearty glass of ale.
She wasn’t alone. Beside her sat Grayson, his shirt as rumpled as his hair.
They clinked glasses and whispered to each other before indulging in another drink, acting like old friends.
“Ruby.” My voice wasn’t my own. It was hard and cutting.
She craned her neck, clumsily twisting my way, along with a very drunk Grayson. They both slouched against the bar for support.
“Wren!” she shouted, only for Grayson to leap to his feet and scoop me into a too-tight hug.
“She lives!” he exclaimed before pinching my cheeks. He tried to take his seat, but he fumbled, nearly missing it entirely if not for Ruby’s guidance.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I asked, too tense to take a seat. Hell, I wasn’t sure my limbs could contort into a sitting position, with how rigid my muscles were.
“We’re forgetting last night,” Ruby chirped.
“Well, forgetting until we have to remember again.” She pouted at Grayson, who took a generous drink.
I probably wore a horrified expression, because Ruby added, “It’s just one day of rest, Wren.
Not like you didn’t forget in other ways last night.
” She hiccupped. “I know Damien walked you home.” She winked, and for once, I didn’t blush at her insinuation.
I didn’t have time for this. I’d come here for their help, and now I realized I wouldn’t get it—not that I judged them. For Fates’ sake, Grayson’s life had turned upside down in one night. I understood his turmoil. And Ruby lived in the south, where she could be taken at any moment and killed.
“Do you know where Damien is?” I asked as I peered at the stairs leading to his room.
Ruby shook her head. “He’s not there. I already picked the lock and tried to find him.”
I hoped he didn’t know she’d picked his lock. He would be furious—he was private about his space.
“Do you have any idea where he might’ve gone?” The ripped pieces of the card I’d taken with me from Callie’s dresser were crumpled in my hand, wrapped tight in my clammy palm. Backup would be nice, but it wasn’t necessary, and I was too impatient to wait.
Something felt off in the air, and after discovering this card…
“He’s probably trying to fix his mistake.” Ruby rolled her eyes. “He’s been mopey ever since he took it.”
Grayson swayed and I reached out to keep him from plummeting onto his face. “What mistake?” I asked, panic slithering into my chest like a coiled snake set to strike. “What did he take?”
He was a thief, I knew this. It could be anything.
Ruby put her hand to her lips, eyes widening. “Shite, I wasn’t supposed to say anything.” She giggled, grabbing Grayson’s arm. “He’s my new friend. Best wingman ever. Even Annie forgave me when Grayson explained our night!”
I ignored that part and grabbed Ruby’s hand. She frowned down at it.
“What mistake did Damien make, Ruby? Tell me.”
“So bossy, Wren. I told you. I c-can’t.” She hiccupped once more, hiding it with her sleeve. “Damien would kill me if I told you. But he’s gonna make it right! Don’t worry, you’ll have your locket back before you know it and then you won’t be giftless!”
“Locket?” The room blurred around me, people morphing into distorted shapes of color. That droning returned, growing louder and louder until the beginnings of a headache prickled my brow.
“Ahh, you made me say it.” Ruby grimaced, hiding her face in her hands.
“He’s gonna be so angry with me. Please don’t tell him!
We’re friends, after all, right?” She beamed at me like she hadn’t just upended my world.
“I think he cares for you, like really, really cares. Which isn’t like him.
He’s never looked at anyone like he does you.
It’s actually sickening,” she said with a laugh.
I whirled around, not interested in how much Damien liked me. How much he cared.
A locket. That was my gift. And Damien had stolen it.
Rage burned in my belly, hot and vicious.
All this time. All this time he’d lied. He might’ve lost it, but he stole it in the first place.
He took my fucking gift. And now he what?
Wanted to get it back to make up for his crimes?
No. That wasn’t right either. He’d loathed me—or acted like he had—when he claimed something had been taken from him at the Lovetts’ party.
And his mirror…he talked about his mirror not working lately.
I cursed aloud, the room spinning, drunken revelers dancing like marionettes around me. He’d said it was losing its power. Maybe he thought it was punishment for taking my gift. Maybe that was the entire reason he’d helped me.
All of it.
A lie.
“Wren!” Grayson called out when I stormed from the tavern. Ruby shouted my name as well, but screw that. Screw the lies, the betrayal, the secrets.
Screw them all.
Ruby had known too.
Uncrumpling the pieces of the black card in my hand, I read the address.
I marched down the streets of the Void without fear in my heart, my eyes narrowed and my pace determined. I wouldn’t stop for the world. Driven by rage, carried on the wings of betrayal, I delved into the boiling sensation of my hurt and allowed it to empower me. And empower me it did.
I was going to the Black Dahlia with or without him.
The man who had a chance of breaking my heart.
I vowed he never would get the chance again.