Page 8 of Sincerely, Secretary of Doom

All the faces of the young women she’d seen left sleeping in the woods, in the park, on a random streetside bench, began flashing through her mind. Over six month’s worth of victims. But not her; she wouldn’t be next. Because Violet wouldn’t still be here when the killer returned.

She grabbed the sharpest looking pen from a tray on the desk and clutched it, pointy side out, inhaling and exhaling as she charged herself up to stab a cold vampire heart, just in case. She abandoned her heels in the hall and fled on bare feet, scurrying deeper into the cathedral to look for a back door.

The hallways on the second level were darker. Violet murmured prayers, pleading that she wouldn’t be tossed into an unmarked grave out back where Zorah would never find her. But she grabbed the wall for support when a burst of dizziness filled her brain. Her hand drifted to her temple.

“No…” She shook her head. “Not right now! Don’t do thisnow!” she told her horridly iron-obsessed body. She slid along the wall toward an open door where a sliver of light showed a rickety spiral staircase. She shook the anemic clouds from her mind and raced up the stairs, shoving open a trap door at the top.

Cool wind met her hot cheeks, snapping her out of her dizzy spell. When she looked up, she gawked at an enormous bell hanging above.

She climbed onto the bell tower balcony, open on all four sides except for the decrepit spindles and railing, and white beams precariously holding up a small roof. She could see half the city from this vantage point; rectangular buildings drenched in rain and mist. She could see the bus stop two blocks away. If only she could fly.

There was no way out from up here. Violet spun back toward the stairs—too fast—and tripped over a hanging rope, pulling it down with her. She hit the ground, and the whole bell tower swayed as an ear-piercing musical note erupted over the city. Violet shrieked and slammed her hands over her ears, stuck in the fetal position beneath the ringing bell. She knew she’d go deaf if she stayed here. She inhaled, leapt to her feet, and ran straight into a broad chest.

The bell drowned out all other noise as her eyes lifted.

A black hood shadowed the guy’s features. From within, bright silvery eyes looked out at her. The hem of his dark, rain-speckled vampire coat fluttered in the wind.

Violet screamed.

She flinched as his hand flashed out, her eyes squeezing shut.

The noise stopped.

Violet unpeeled her eyelids and dragged her gaze over to find him holding tight to the bell. A flit of worry warmed her stomach as she considered the weight of that bell and how easily he’d been able to stop it. His arm hovered just over her shoulder. She didn’t dare move, afraid she’s brush against him.

He said something to her—it might have been a question, but she could hear nothing in her ruined ears. It was like being under water; even the wind and rain were faint and muted.

“P… please don’t hurt me.” Her own voice was distant.

Buthemust have heard. He stared at her for several seconds. It seemed this guy didn’t need to blink or even take a breath.

“Are you a vampire?” She meant to ask herself quietly, but she didn’t know how loud she was talking anymore. She poked a finger into her ear to try and unplug it, but it didn’t help. She stole a look at the trap door, but when she brought her gaze back, she was sure he could read her thoughts about wanting to lunge for the exit.

His gaze grew penetrating, and Violet took a small step back, certain she was being sized up like a meal for breakfast. She swallowed as she searched for a way off the tower balcony, but there was only a small drop to a very steep roof in every direction.

He stepped toward her and lifted his free hand.

Violet froze, fear sinking through her as he reached toward her temples. Suddenly she remembered something from the life she’d lost all memory of. She remembered a faceless person reaching for her temples just like this. Her very first—and only—memory of her past, slamming into her after all this time. And all she knew was that she couldnotlet him touch her.

So, Violet chose the crazy option. She jumped.

She toppled over the balcony rail and slammed into the roof, clawing at it with her polished nails to try and stop her fall, sure she could catch herself before she reached the edge. She asked herself what she was doing as she slid further and further down the slope.

Unfortunately, Violet realized too late that she had severely miscalculated.

She fell over the side and dropped off the roof of the cathedral.

4

Cressica Alabastian and What Happened

Two Faeborn Months Ago

Cress stopped talking when Dranian rolled his eyes. The fae Prince tightened his grip on the rolling pin, quite certain it had transformed into a weapon in his hand in the last seconds. After a brief debate in his royal faeborn mind, Cress dropped the rolling pin onto the table where a scatter of flour, charmed almonds, and other baking supplies rested in view of the camera in Dranian’s strong assassin fingers. The pin released a loud clatter through the café and shook the presentation table.

“What?” Cress demanded. “Do you wish to lose your eyes? I know my cooking show isn’t boring. My ten thousand internet subjects—”

“You mean your subscribers?” Dranian mumbled.

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