Page 17 of Soulless Deeds

Yeah, the trifecta are back in action.

Emerson, light and airy, wore a shimmering blue satin gown that directly matched her eyes, her blonde hair curled in soft waves down her back. No one would guess that underneath all that was a grease monkey who’d prefer to be in a garage working on an engine.

Micah went the dark and sultry route, shining brunette hair ironed dead straight and black lining her lids, accentuating her amber eyes.

“What face are you going with tonight?” she asked, running stark red lipstick over her lips.

I grinned, automatically transitioning my features into the same angelic mask I wore at Playhouse. The epitome of virtue in my white silk dress.

Micah paused and shook her head with a smile. “If you say so.”

“Remind me, where are we going again?” Emerson asked.

“Remi gave me exclusive VIP tickets to the theatre tonight. He’s the male lead.”

“Remi? Your friend that you pay an exorbitant amount of money to fuck…but don’t actually, fuck?”

I snickered. “The one and only.”

“Well, we may as well get free tickets out of him! Thieving bastard.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” I replied, adjusting the thigh sheath that housed my favourite blade.

We were interrupted by a low wolf whistle from the door, which was blocked by Psycho leaning against the archway.

“And where do you think you’re going dressed likethat, golden girl?” His gaze was solely isolated on Micah as if his ardent need could pierce straight through her flesh.

Psycho loomed closer with a hunter’s grace, fingers tracking down her bare arm to lift her hand and kiss the back of it. “This is new,” he said, referring to Micah’s exposed skin. Her dress was black, backless and halter neck-style, coloured tattoos on full display.

I gave a derisive snort, and Emerson groaned, both of us wordlessly agreeing to escape the stifling atmosphere, strapping on the rest of our weapons at speed.

A flare of movement caught my attention and I shrieked when a fat rat stared directly back. “Fuck this place! As soon as I can, I’m out of here.”

Psycho turned, and I knew he was going to say something to piss me off. “What’s wrong withourhome?”

“I love rich and pretty things. Like me.”

“Rich?” His arms spread wide to encompass the derelict temple. “Pretty? How do we even know that’s your real face?” His eyes scrutinised my changed features.

My fingertips ran over the handle of the paring knife I hadn’t yet strapped. Emerson crept up behind me and stole the weapon before I could throw it at his face, and Micah slapped the back of his hard head with a resoundingwhack.

Unfazed, Psycho leant down to whisper in her ear, his hand tracking down her naked spine.Cringe.

I bypassed the lovesick duo and geared for the underground garage. “Two minutes, Micah.”

Emerson and I were waiting with the motorbikes when Micah finally made her appearancetenminutes later, her cheeks flushed, a dreamy smile on her lips, with slightly smudged lipstick.

“Sorr—”

I held up a palm. “How the fuck am I the one not getting laid around here?”

ECHO

It was intermission, and the theatre was packed with the pompous elite of Junction City. They analysed my frame with depreciating eyes, judging me for what they believed me to be—a criminal. They were right, of course, although entirely too hypocritical to ever admit they weren’t any better.

Those men with perceived power shunned me in public only because, deep down, they knew I fuckingownedthem. I was privy to their secrets, their deepest desires. It also helped that I’d fucked half their wives… More accurately,alltheir wives.

I spared a glance at my white gold watch, counting down the seconds to the finale of the show. Aster remained adamant that she wanted to stay, and after our last near-death experience, I wasn’t about to leave her.

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