Page 100 of Cruel Pleasures
My senses are heightened. My pulse beats on overdrive.
I move through the ground floor, then up the stairs a step at a time.
I’ve stopped breathing. I’ve stopped thinking beyond the vague knowledge of what I’m likely about to find.
Yet I continue. I press on like the dutiful soldier I have been taught to be. The warrior Master Bihn created many years ago at the temple on Mount Hiei. The killing machine my father molded me to be. All for his own bidding. His own ends and means.
The door to our bedroom is already open. The clotted blood has already poured over the floor, reaching the soles of my shoes.
My gaze lands on the torn open body a second later and I lose my mind…
I pop up in bed, sweating bullets and husking out desperate pants of air. I’m left blinking against a fading memory before my eyes. I shove away the sheets and find them drenched.
Outside the window, tiny snow flurries fall.
I leap out of bed, frustrated and enraged by another harsh reminder outside my control. It seems it doesn’t matter how many years have gone by or how devoted I am to my new way of life. Asami’s memory lives on inside my head.
Inside of the heart that’s dead yet still gives an occasional feeble beat for her.
Or has that beat begun to transform? Does it mean something more as time passes?
I run both hands through my slick hair and then quickly dress in the dark. In another minute, I’m flinging open the door to my bedroom and striding off through the ghostly silent manor. It’s so late into the night, even the members who have partaken in the Market have gone to bed.
Free rein of the estate to roam as I wish.
With the severe sleep issues I experience, this is a regular occurrence of mine. I pass through all the usual stops, like the Hostess’s chambers to verify she’s where she’s supposed to be—and there’s no new developments regarding her plans.
From what I have gathered from her meltdown last night, she met with the high-ranking club members and intends on leaving the matter of our insolence for after the games. Though I’m certain that’s simply a strategy to lull us into a false sense of security.
I expect retaliation at any moment.
Which is why I find myself outside Imani’s bedroom door yet again.
Shadows fill out the room and she’s presumably already asleep judging by the lump under the covers.
I drift over to the far corner where I’ve taken up camp several times before. The night’s still young enough that I’ll get in several hours of lurking. By daylight, it’ll be like I was never here.
Out of the stark silence comes her drowsy murmur. “You’ve come.”
Hidden by the shadows, I go still anyway. I refrain from answering her as though it’ll make a difference.
She already knows I’m here.
Sitting up, she’s staring over at the corner. It might be too dark to see the details of her face, but I don’t need to when I can feel the weight of her stare.
“Go back to sleep.”
“Why do you watch me?”
“Why do you seem to think you’ll get an answer?”
“Because I’m persistent,” she says. “And I’d like to know.”
“You seemed to have already come to your own conclusions.”
Her head tilts to one side. “That you’re protecting me? You know something… someone is out there doing things. Killing Talia and Mercer. They’re after me too?”
“Go back to sleep,” I repeat.
