16. The Villain
THE VILLAIN
I didn’t know what I was thinking when I sent her those flowers.
That Angry Eyeballs didn’t deserve the smile she wore when he sent her that terrible pink and purple display?
That she deserved a bouquet with thought behind it?
That maybe if I sent her favourite colours, she would cancel her date?
That she’d be curious enough to investigate a bit?
In truth, I hadn’t been thinking. I’d been drinking.
A lot. And calling Violet after she received my bouquet was extra stupid.
The fact that I eat—
I took another swig from my fifth bottle of rum—being superhuman had its perks.
I was so stupid—torturing myself and pacing a hole through the floor of my apartment while my shadows gave me second by second reports of her date. Every laugh, every smile, every brush of their hands.
I didn’t want to know. After ten minutes, I was ready to drink myself to sleep but my stupid shadows had a mind of their own. They kept coming back and playing out scenes long after I’d given up.
Her dress prompted bottle number three.
And hearing her banter with him? Bottle number four.
They just left the restaurant—the most expensive steakhouse in the city like he was some kind of try-hard, like it didn’t cost him three days’ pay—and she was letting him walk her home. Would he weasel his way into her apartment? Onto her couch? Into her bed?
Another swig.
How much of a loser was I willing to be? Would I continue to sit here and watch my rogue shadows even after she brought him inside? If she brought him inside.
Why wouldn’t she? The egotistical asshole from that night at karaoke was nowhere to be found. He’d been charming, attentive, and witty their whole date, spending three and a half fucking hours chatting, laughing, drinking.
Another swig.
I was debating whether or not I should just go on a freezing rampage so my shadows wouldn’t be able to come back with a scene I didn’t want to see. I was leaning more toward yes when Violet’s favourite song filled the empty room. Her ringtone.
I tripped over myself as I stumbled to the phone. I let it go about ten seconds longer—trying to sober myself up before I answered.
“Hello?” Did I sound drunk? God, I hoped not.
“Hey.”
“What’s up?”
The soft sound of her laugh floated through the phone.
“What’s up? No over dramatic sigh with a ‘what do you want, Violet’? I’m almost disappointed.”
“Did you just quote me?”
“Maybe.” Her tone was teasing.
Damn it. I wanted to see her. Was she grinning? Sitting? Holding the dragon? Looking out her window watching the city? The next thing, I knew I was out my door and strolling to her apartment complex.
I sighed.
“What do you want, Violet?”
“Perfect.” There was a brief silence. “Um… I… I don’t really know. I just— Shit, can you hang on a second? The other line is ringing for my bedtime check-in. Sorry, one sec.”
She didn’t even wait for my answer before the line started beeping to tell me I was on hold.
Fine, it would give me a chance to get up to her balcony.
Two minutes later, I was at her door and she was still talking to whoever called her.
I knew for a fact it wasn’t Eva. Who the hell was keeping her so long?
“—code word then?”
I caught the end of her sentence. She’d changed out of her dress, into pajama pants and an oversized sleeping shirt.
“Well, you can’t decide one now. I’ll need to see you face to face to confirm it’s really you giving me the code word.”
She laughed. “Is that your way of asking me out, Hem?”
That poisonous little weasel! He was so getting his ass kicked the next time I saw him.
“That depends, would you say yes?”
She blushed. Oh, he was so fucking dead. He knew damn well that she was fucking off limits. I made that very clear when I tracked him down after their first meeting.
“I guess that depends, can you turn all liquids into poison or just water?”
Deep breath. You’re very drunk and you cannot rip her door open and hang up the phone.
“Can I trust you with a secret?”
“Lots of people trust me with lots of secrets. You’ve already trusted me with one, why not another?”
I felt myself scowling. Did she forget we were on the phone? That she called me? Did I mean so little she could make yet another date while she kept me waiting on the other line?
“I can turn any liquid into any other liquid. You have water but want wine? Call me Jesus baby, ’cause I can make that happen.”
Her mouth fell open.
“Seriously? And you’re out here poisoning people when you could make a killing selling custom drinks! You’re in the wrong line of work, my friend.”
“So is that a yes?”
“No. I couldn’t possibly go out with someone who could be a billionaire but chooses to live in poverty to kill people. Clearly they’re an idiot.”
He started cackling.
“Not many people would have the balls to call me an idiot right to my face.”
A mischievous smile spread over her face.
“That’s because balls are weak and recede at the first sign of trouble. It takes someone without balls to call it like it is. Now are you satisfied that I’m alive? Because I have someone else on the other line I’d rather be talking to.”
I couldn’t lie, I did grin a bit at that.
“I won’t be satisfied until I get you on a date with me, Purple Haze. But I’ll let you go for now.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I hate it when you call me that. I’m not a drug.”
“You are to me. Talking to you is addictive.”
I just knew that fucker was wearing a shit eating grin.
I really was going to kill him. A nickname? She hates purple. Maybe think of something original next time dummy. Although…he did have a point about the addictiveness. No, no. We hate him now. He’s dead.
“Good night, Hemlock.”
“It’s Jack.”
Oh cool, everyone’s just throwing their names around. Eva, Hemlock, The Weaver. Let’s just throw out secret identities.
“That’s too bad, I might have considered giving you a chance, but I don’t do guys with J names.” A brief pause with a devilish grin. “That’s not true. I do them, I just don’t date them.” She hung up before he could respond but I’d bet good money he’d be thinking about that the rest of the night.
“Hey.” Her voice came through the phone. “Sorry about that. I should have waited until after my check-in, I didn’t think it would take so long.”
“Everything okay? Why did it take so long?”
“Yeah. If I had known it was Hemlock’s turn, I would have waited. That dude is a relentless flirt. Every time I talk to him, he spends five minutes trying to get me to go out with him.”
“And would you?”
She walked over to her balcony door, a sly smile on her face.
“What’s it to you?”
“Pure curiosity.”
“I suppose he’s easy enough on the eyes. Dark hair, those unnaturally green eyes, and tall, too.” She hummed. “He’s a picture-perfect love interest in one of my books, right down to the murder too. The only thing he’s missing is the stalking. Unless he sent me those flowers…”
“This isn’t why you called me.”
“Right… I called… I called because…”
“Your date went horribly and you were thinking about me the whole time? You needed to hear my voice? I’m flattered, Nightshade. Truly.”
She huffed a laugh.
“You’re insufferable. I called… Because…
Um…” She trailed off, starting to pick at a frayed string on her shirt.
“I’m not entirely sure, I just… I felt like I needed to apologize for earlier.
I didn’t mean to make you…uncomfortable.
I don’t know what I was thinking asking for your name. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You didn’t. It’s just… I can’t.”
“Okay.” She perked up a bit, leaving her shirt alone. “Well, good. I should go. But, just for the record, the date was fine.”
“Just fine? Not great? Not fantastic? That sounds pretty horrible to me.”
She shook her head, rolling her eyes.
“Fine, since you’re so invested, it was fun. It’s just… There wasn’t any spark. Not like—” she clamped her mouth shut. I almost asked her what she’d planned to say but she continued talking. “Anyway, he asked me out again, I told him I would think about it. He’s just not my type.”
“No? Then who is?”
A soft smile tugged at her lips.
“I think you’ve pried enough information out of me today. Goodnight, Avalanche.”
“I’ll just call you back until you relent.”
She sighed. She knew I would, too.
“You first.”
I was too drunk to be answering that particular question, but I did it anyway.
“Smart, funny, witty. A woman that can keep up with my banter.”
“And here I was, going to list physical traits.” She chuckled. “I’m glad you went first, you might think I’m shallow.”
“I can go shallow. Long dark hair, blue eyes—specifically ocean blue—short, curvy, tattoos.”
Her cheeks flushed red, her eyes finding the ground around her feet.
“You know, that sounds a lot like Eva.”
“Blah! Gross. She’s my sister. Besides, her eyes are green. That null and voids everything else. Now it’s your turn.”
“Tall, dark hair, blue eyes—specifically icy blue—morally questionable, villain is a nice bonus but not necessary.”
“V—”
“It’s late. Goodnight, Avalanche.”
She hung up before I could get a word out, which was probably for the best. I was too drunk to be thinking straight, and I absolutely would have said something I couldn’t take back.
“Goodnight, Nightshade.”