Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
DIORA
It’s the day of the party. I was summoned by Mrs. Jay, and there is no avoiding her or the event. It’s not like I can tell her no or to rot in hell. I still have a role to play. One Elliot doesn’t even know I’m playing.
The trafficking ring can’t happen again. I can’t sit on my fingers because the woman running them is his “Mother” or because she’s my boss.
Mrs. Jay has to die and I have to be the one to kill her, because I don’t think Elliot can.
Mrs. Jay must not see this coming, or must not view me as a threat, because since the day she stabbed the back of my hand for taking down one for her human trafficking rings, she’s been blowing up my society phone. All she talks about is this dumb tea party she’s throwing.
As if it’s more important than her cover being blown.
None of us are good people, but Mrs. Jay… Mrs. Jay is on another level. It’s ironic, really.
My wound has started to scab over; mine isn’t nearly as deep as the Son’s. I haven’t seen them since the punishment. Elliot won’t answer my texts, calls, emails, from either of my phones, and Enyo, well, I don’t have his number.
I even went to Elliot’s apartment in downtown Litchfort and demanded he talk to me, but he wasn’t there or wouldn’t open the door. I don’t know. I should’ve broken the door down, found a way to unlock it but I also didn’t want to encroach on his space.
This distance is making my skin crawl. I’m doing things I would’ve never thought I would, like chase a boy down, and…
and this is not who I am. I think. I don’t have these kinds of emotions.
I don’t chase men. I don’t… I don’t know why I’m so enraptured with him.
I need him like I need my next breath. It’s uncomfortable.
“Diora, show these men where the plants go,” Mrs. Jay calls from the kitchen, pointing to the clueless group pulling little wagons filled with potted violas and pansies.
She’s turned this rundown building into a botanical garden.
Pinks, purples, and greens light up the place with seven round white metal tables with enough pastel tablecloths and dainty trays to make royals feel flushed with pride.
I can admit it’s gorgeous.
Pulling out the map that Mrs. Jay gave to me, I look for where these plants are labeled to go. “Set up these plants at each pillar between the main room and the hallways lining the room.”
“It’s like an old castle in here. How did we find this in Litchfort?” Enyo’s voice comes from behind me, making me jump. I turn around to face him. He’s dressed in his “casual” attire of a crisp white button-down and dress pants.
We are left standing around the pond in the middle of the room. It’s honestly beautiful, with water that is tinged green, and natural plants and lily pads and stray stems floating in the water.
I wish I could enjoy the party. I wish I could enjoy the kill. But with Elliot going MIA on me and Mrs. Jay working every nerve I didn’t know I had with all her demands and text messages, my brain is fried.
“Would you kill me if I pushed you in?” Enyo says with a light shove on my shoulder, and I whip around to face him. I can’t tell if he is joking. He’s always smiling and laughing. Always happy. Even with the wound with the wrapping still on his hand. He seems… normal?
He’s really good at being happy or good at faking it.
Either way, I narrow my eyes slightly at the man, who holds both his hands up in what feels like a mocking surrender.
“I know you would. I’m just kidding.” He laughs as he wraps a thick arm around my shoulders and pulls me under his arm. It’s close, too close, and it hits me that he came over with a purpose.
“Have you seen Elliot?” he mumbles in my ear, keeping his lighthearted composure, but I can tell in his eyes and by the wrinkles by them, he’s… upset.
I shake my head no, a quick movement that makes his shoulders slouch a bit before he finally lets me go.
His eyes drop to my hand, where I’ve left the wound unbandaged to breathe, since it’s already started to heal over.
He blinks slowly and lets out a slowly counted breath as I move to cross my arms over my chest. It itches more when he’s staring at it.
Like it does when Juliet stares at it.
Like it probably would if Elliot stared at it.
If he even bothered to come around.
I watch the room, looking for the man in question, knowing I haven’t seen him for days and would be more than surprised if Mrs. Jay asked him to be here tonight. I wonder if she realized he was our ringleader in taking down one of her rings. I wonder what they talked about after Enyo and I left.
I almost miss his head of honey blond strands, but I spot them. I turn in the direction he’s come from and so does Enyo.
I try to tame the smile I know I shouldn’t reveal in this room of serial killers, but I can’t. I smile as my heart settles as Elliot finally looks at me.
I take a freeing breath as he gets closer to Enyo and me. He’s here.
“Where have you been?” I whisper, looking anywhere but directly at either of the men. I’m curious if he was at his apartment the other day when I came banging on his door. The asshole doesn’t seem like he’s done ignoring me yet.
I see Elliot shrug out of the corner of my eye, and I feel his hand fully grasp mine.
In the sea of bustling workers and bodies, I’m sure we are concealed from Mrs. Jay’s haunting eyes, but I almost feel the instinct to pull away.
As much as relief washes over me, I can’t forget that he royally pissed me off.
I don’t pull away, though. Not even when his fingers brush over my wound. He brings my hand closer to his face, making a show of his interest, and I can’t tell if it’s purposeful or if he doesn’t care what this could tell Mrs. Jay.
“It won’t happen again,” Enyo mutters, glaring at my hand now, too. He’s pissed, too?
My eyes venture to Elliot’s hand. His wound seems to be the worst. His white bandage is seeping with blood, and it’s been five days already.
It pisses me off more than it probably should.
Is this what he’s been dealing with in regard to my wound?
This anger over it happening in the first place?
The audacity of someone to mar what’s mine and yet being helpless to stop it from happening.
I should be more pissed at Mrs. Jay for trafficking Strays than I am for stabbing Elliot. Rolling my eyes, I huff. Having emotions is so fucking annoying.
I look up to Elliot, finally meeting his eyes. He raises a brow and I shrug, unsure of what we are communicating, but regardless, with Elliot, it doesn’t matter.
“This isn’t social hour. Get to work, Diora.
I need you in the kitchen,” Mrs. Jay snaps, and before we can break away, Elliot grabs the heart pendant on my pearl necklace and grasps it.
When he lets go, I feel a newer cool metal bit underneath the heart pendant land on my chest, and I sigh at the contact.
“Don’t take it off,” he says as he and Enyo walk away, and as much as I would love to be left stumped, I have Mrs. Jay staring down from the kitchen door.
I nod once, more to myself, since he is well gone in the mix of people, but I know whatever it is, it got him to see me again.
I smile, even though there is not anything to really smile about, not in the grand scheme of things.
Mrs. Jay needs to be stopped.
Elliot, one of the few people I care about, might hate me for it.
Most of Juliet’s offenders are still alive.
My smile drops as I reach Mrs. Jay, who gets more impatient as each second ticks past.
I try to move past her into the kitchen, but she grabs my arm with a force so fierce it makes me freeze. My eyes shoot to hers. She frowns, and for once in the seven months I have known Mrs. Jay, she looks worried.
“Diora, I want you to know, I’m not mad you guys took down the ring. It was a noble cause. I’m mad you did it behind my back, dear, that’s all.” Yeah, right.
I only nod my head, my lips pressed in a hard line, as I beeline past her to the stove. She has to know I don’t believe her, but if she’s scared enough to try to change my mind, she must have lost more than I thought.
The party is in full swing. The targets Mrs. Jay invited are all here mingling, including the political leaders and the mayor of Litchfort, all men involved in the politician’s scheme in pimping out Juliet, an unconsenting member.
I watch as they huddle together, murmuring and laughing, as if they aren’t dying tonight.
It makes me smile. The tea they are all slurping has one to two doses of oleander in it.
I needed something that could work in small doses, with a deadly punch, and I figured oleander was the perfect plant for this operation.
It only takes one leaf to kill.
Soon enough, they will get tired, they will take their seats, and that’s when their heart rates will start to slow.
They will drink more, hoping it will wake them up, and when that doesn’t work, the shaking will begin.
They are old, so they will think it’s normal, something due to the tiredness and age, and soon after that, they will drop dead.
How fantastic.
I stand by the long buffet table, that’s more here for show than anything. There is “clean” black tea served here and little pastries and sandwiches that the staff will eat. Everyone working here is on Mrs. Jay’s payroll and knows not to drink from the teapots on the tables.
I grab a little Dixie cup and pour myself some tea. Holding it tight in my hand, I step off to the side as more staff grab food from the table. I watch as they smile, snickering to themselves.
“Don’t drink that.” Elliot’s voice comes from the shadows, and I feel his grip on my elbow pulling me deeper in with him. His front is pressed to my back, and he slips the cup from my hand, placing it back on the table.
“We’re not on good terms with Mother; we don’t know what she’ll do,” he murmurs along my cheek. Pressing his face side by side against mine, he wraps his strong arms around my waist and pulls me deeper into the shadows.