Page 1 of Dark Wishes

Chapter One

Selena

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Black eyes sear into the back of my head. The heat of his gaze is enough to make me tremble. With him watching me, I make a point not to shake—not even a little tremor—because then he’d know how he frightens me. He already knows. But I’m delusional enough to lie to myself to get through this.

It’s my only option.

Jamison... a deadly hit man... has been hovering over me for twenty-four hours.

Has it really only been a day?I wonder. Time is strange. A single cycle and I've watched a man bleed to death, learned I have a new target to kill, hired an assassin to assist me, then spent the night here—in my apartment—with his hands on my body.

I move my thick tongue around the roof of my mouth. Heat settles in my belly when I look at my messy bed, recalling how I lied there, wrists trapped in his huge hand, his agile fingers tracing my breasts.

“Hurry up.” His voice is cold; it cuts through my budding arousal.

Walking around my mattress to my dresser, I drop my charcoal canvas backpack onto the floor. I kneel beside it, digging in the top drawer for some clean clothes. “How much should I bring?” I ask.

“Enough for a few days.”

“Days?” I repeat, shooting him a wary look. Jamison meets my eyes calmly. He's too good at being blase. “You think it will take that long to kill Caruso?”

“It's possible. Better to be prepared.”

Scooping a few outfits into my bag, I start to snap the flap shut, then pause at the sight of one of the shirts left behind. The red letters are garish on the white fabric.Anime West 2022.I never cared for the overpriced souvenir shirts at conventions, but this one is different. Valoria had bought one for each of us to celebrate our first con together.

She'd dressed as Sailor Mars, I’d gone as Sailor Moon. Our costumes were terrible but it didn’t matter an ounce. Nothing could tarnish the fun a pair of eighteen-year-olds could have. We’d eaten enough sugar that we’d stayed up both nights until nearly dawn. Our bodies were thrashed, but you’d think we were refreshed with how we twirled through the decorated corridors.

I add the shirt into my bag.

Jamison waits for me with one foot in the hall, one inside my apartment. He turns away, as if he can’t bare seeing my home any longer.He doesn't expect to come back here.Or, worse, he doesn't expectmeto return.

I linger in the space between my bed and the kitchen. The sun filters through the gaps in my window blinds, casting stripes over the scuffed floor. They stop just before my shoes.

Sliding my foot forward until my toes are in the light, I remember when I moved out here. I’d slept on Valoria’s couch the first week. That was the first time we’d ever met in person. We’d video chatted since we were teens, but it was still awkward. For me, at least; she forced normalcy with constant hugs that cracked my spine.

Valoria helped me find this place. It didn’t come with furniture—not shocking for the cheapish rent—so we’d sat on the floor, sunlight dappling our faces, laughing as we painted our toenails while dribbling specks of color onto the crinkled newspapers.

She always chose unique colors; yellow, black, orange. She swore one day she’d make me paint my nails something that wasn’t pink.

Now she’s gone. And the girl I used to be has left with her.

This place is full of nothing but ghosts.

I shoulder my bag. “I'm ready.”

***

The entire car smells like a taco stand. You ever see a dog launch itself full-face into a bowl of food? That's what I'm dreaming of doing when I stare at the plastic bags packed at my feet. It's almost enough to distract me from the fact we're winding up some of the twistiest streets I've ever encountered.

“This should be a one way,” I say. “Can you even fit two cars on this road?”

“The traffic is pretty light.” As Jamison says that, he jerks the wheel to make room for a maroon Tesla passing us on our left. “Most of the time.”

“You live all the way up here?” I ask.

“This white one, yeah.”

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