Page 9 of Soulless Deeds

The soaked material caught alight, flames igniting into a spiralling inferno. Appleberry slumped to the ground, rolling in all directions, replicating a human torch.

A strangled shriek reverberated from his burning throat, the high pitch grating against my eardrums.

The sound was poetic and expressive…I want more.

A flash in my periphery refocused my attention. Displayed through the floor-to-ceiling window pane was the underboss of Vice, Echo, watching on with an open mouth and rigid pose. I had only heard of him in passing during my investigations through Serpents Row. However, seeing him in person had me reeling, his potent sexual aura making my damn mouth bone dry begging for a sip.

As if in slow motion, a full glass of wine fell from his limp hand, staining the expensive carpet at his feet.

I licked my lips. His shock gave me an opportunity to appreciate his tall, lean build. I tracked down his frame, his dyed blonde buzz cut, limited edition fishnet singlet, giving way to his toned chest and defined abs on full display. His black-painted nails raised to push his thick, opaque sunglasses up on his head, capturing me with his gaze.

I was immediately seized by a sunburst of brown, green and gold. The gradient of his hazel eyes held me prisoner as I was surrounded with the smell of burning flesh and the whimpering lament of a dying man. It all added to the ambiance of my newfound infatuation which I found impossible to break eye contact.

Death made me horny and screams stimulated my desire, a dangerous concoction for a taste of the forbidden.

I wanted to play and I’d just found my next opponent…or prize. I hadn’t quite decided yet.

His hazel eyes continued to bore into mine, and I couldn’t help it when I raised the lighter to my lips, blew out the flame and winked.

IV

Echo

Subconsciously, I tallied how much liquor I’d ingested. I wasn’t that drunk...right?

The hallucination was beyond bizarre, although there could be no other explanation. There was no way that a random waitress was standing before an open flame, looking at me with a deranged killer smile on her face. What was even more deluded was the fact that she looked fucking sexy doing it.

Sure, I had returned from the bathroom with the resolve to kill Appleberry myself, but I was going to push him over the barrier or something equally sane, not be a barbarian and burn the idiot alive.

The aroma of charred flesh singed my nostrils, and a flare of movement shook me out of my mind. My little waitress was on the move, racing to the far end of the balcony to an alternate door—away from me. I chuckled at the escape attempt. It was cute that she thought she had a chance. Almost endearing, really.

Adrenaline triggered my Variant to infuse the structure of my voice. Low and seductive, I let it reach her. Only her.

“Run as fast as you can, sweetheart, cause when I catch you, you’ll be forced to your knees to scrub winefrom this floor.”The errant image easily transitioned into one of salacious fantasy.

She released a girlish squeal at the strange sensation of my voice invading her senses as she barrelled across the restaurant and through the door of the communal kitchen, the bobbing of her uniformed skirt cut off from sight.

I clicked my neck from left to right. I’d given her enough head start to infuse a sense of hope—I was nothing if not a gentleman. Dodging tables and chairs, I gave chase, careful not to destroy anything else.Whose great idea was it to have the meeting here?

I burst through the bustling kitchen, the place a complete shitshow. Food everywhere, staff in disarray, the stove on fucking fire, flames licking up to the ceiling. It was as if a bomb had been set off in the confined space, the blast the exact shape and size of a troublesome vixen with the partiality for setting things alight.

How the fuck did she cause so much damage in the timespan of two seconds flat?

I spared a cursory glance and catalogued each individual. She wasn’t there, yet the air lingered with her sugary scent, the fragrance playing havoc with my inebriated brain. She was close—so close.

One of the apprentice chefs panicked and grasped a pitcher of water, ready to throw it on the grease fire.

“STOP.” My voice boomed. Swatting it out of their hands, I shoved past, slamming a lid over the burning pot and smothering the flames. A collective sigh came from the onlookers. I didn’t have to turn around to know she was gone.

I straddled the bar stool, one hand firmly clasped round the neck of a half full vodka bottle, while the other rubbed against my furrowed brow. The action did nothing to soothe the thumping beat in my head.

The restaurant was empty and Aster rejected my calls, which made me responsible for cleaning up the godforsaken mess. Also didn’t help that I had no one to show for the death of Appleberry.

Failure was an unfamiliar concept. I’d only ever experienced it once—all because of another female, ironically. Since the fateful day that pivoted my whole existence, I swore my life would never be placed in the hands of another again.

I trained, worked hard and gained the prestigious position I had through legitimate merit and reliability. Since becoming Aster’s right-hand man, no one got the drop on me—ever.Observation skills were unmatched, and manipulation was my specialty.So how did some measly woman escape me?

Thoughts gravitated towards the source of my ire, as I couldn’t think of a viable solution for her disappearance. There wasn’t enough time for her to flee unnoticed, unless… Unless she was a Variant.

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