I stared at her. “How do you know that?”
She hunched her shoulders and looked sheepish. “When Luna started interning there, I studied their weaknesses.”
“Lex, sometimes you scare me a little, but I’m glad to have you on our side.” Based on the way we met, truer words were never spoken.
Later that evening, I walked into the commercial building dressed in a brown delivery uniform. The guard at the front desk sat watching a movie on his laptop. He glanced up and eyed me. “Kinda late, isn’t it?”
I gave him a harried smile, and bobbled the package along with my iPad. “Yeah, but I’m filling in and don’t know this route very well. Do I give this to you or set it at their office door? Tim said that’s what he usually does.” Alexa dug around and got the name of the building’s usual delivery person.
When the guard heard Tim’s name, his shoulders relaxed. “Either is fine.”
“Okay. I’ll set it outside their door then. Tenth floor, right?”
“Yep,” he answered absently, unlocking the elevator for me, then going back to his movie.
I rode up to the tenth floor. When I stood in front of their outer door, I took off my cap, shook out my hair, and looked directly up at their camera. Then I gave an obnoxious smoochy kiss and a big wink.
Setting the box down, I wiped my middle finger across my forehead and turned back to the elevator, laughing.
Chapter 8
Drakos
The muted morning sun came through the blinds, casting shadows across my office floor. I did my best work early in the day.
A small package sat on my chair when I’d walked in that morning. I set the box aside for later, turned on my laptop, and got to work. My mind drifted when the emails and documents I read through didn’t demand my full attention. It was too bad Luna didn’t come in on Mondays because I wanted to pump her for Sylvie’s reaction when she’d delivered my message. My lips twitched when I imagined her dark brown eyes narrowing in indignation and anger.
Then I started fantasizing about other things, like fisting her hair and shoving my cock down her throat while she stared up at me with that innocent face. Great, I had a rock-hard dick and my concentration was shot.
Adjusting myself, I leaned back, stretched my neck out a little, and glanced at the package. Absently, I picked it up and checked the return address. It wasn’t one I recognized. Pulling out a letter opener from my top drawer, I slit the tape. The packages I received at the office were usually document-related, but when I opened this one, it held a square box wrapped in a black silk bag.
It smelled faintly of expensive perfume and… something I couldn’t quite place. I pulled the box out, opened it, and picked up the plastic-wrapped object. It looked flesh-colored and felt oddly meaty. When I realized what it was, I dropped it and pushed back my chair as I stared at the severed human hand.
“What thefuck?” I growled.
The pale, lifeless hand wrapped in plastic had been positioned into a fist, except for the middle finger, I realized. Even as my stomach lurched, I couldn't help but admire her grisly creativity.
There was a note under the package that I itched to read, but I wouldn’t be touching anything else with my bare hands. In the break room, I searched under the sink and found a box of cheap latex gloves. Pulling a pair out, I headed back to my office and stared down at the half-wrapped package. I carefully picked it up and held it to the light.
It was a man's hand, judging by the size and shape. The nails were clean and trimmed, and the pads of the fingers smooth. The note, scrawled in her slanted handwriting, stated simply,“I believe this speaks for itself. S.”
I put the hand back in the box and removed the rubber gloves. Then I grabbed my phone and texted my partners. They had to see this.
A moment later, Roman and Ivan walked in. “Where’s the fire?” Ivan demanded.
Roman noticed the box sitting open on my desk. “What did you get?”
“Just a little token from Luna’s roommate.” I nodded toward the hand resting on the plastic wrap and realized that the other scent coming from the box was formaldehyde.
“Christ.” Roman approached the desk, his eyes narrowing at the sight. “Tell me she didn't cut someone’s hand off.”
“I can’t guarantee it,” I teased, but Roman was not amused.
Ivan gazed down at it. “Which roommate?” He asked carefully.
“Sylvie Spade.”
His shoulders relaxed and his lips twitched. “This is her answer to your challenge. How do you know her, anyway?”