Page 31 of Missing Piece
A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she glanced up at him. “You’re blunt. I like that,” she said. “Show me your hands.”
“What?”
“Show me your hands.”
Adam furrowed his brow, trying to figure out what she was getting at. Did she think he had a weapon? He held his hands out, turning them over a few times.
“You still have all your fingernails. Interesting,” she saidbefore turning her attention back to her phone. “First off, my name is Ophelia. Second, I am human.”
“Is that actually your uncle?” Adam’s eyes went between the foyer and the knife in her hand. He’d be an idiot not to consider taking it, but her nonchalance and overall stoic demeanor kept his imagination of a great escape at bay. Every scenario that flashed in his mind ended with the knife in his neck.
“No, but things like family take on different meanings with us,” she said. “Also, if you keep looking at my knife I’m going to give you a real close-up view of it that you will not like.”
“Sorry,” Adam mumbled, looking away from her. Even if she wasn’t a vampire, there was something deeply wrong with her.
Vincent reappeared in the room, holding Adam’s sneakers. “You’ll need these.”
“What’s going on?” Adam asked as he took the shoes.
“Are you sure you need to take him along? I’d prefer for this to wait,” Vincent said to Ophelia, as though he hadn’t heard Adam’s question.
“I’m telling you, there was something weird about how they staged that house. The other two weren’t like that, and someone like your pet has just the set of eyes I need to figure out why,” Ophelia said. She didn’t even acknowledge Adam as he slipped the shoes on. “There’s an hour till sunset, if you get too worried about him, you can meet us out there and help.”
Vincent held out a set of car keys. “Take the truck, I don’t trust you to drive my car. You just got your license.”
“Oh, fuck off, Uncle Vinny. I’ve been driving since I was twelve,” she said as she snatched the keys from his hand. Sheshoved her phone and the knife into her hoodie pocket and grabbed Adam’s wrist.
Adam winced, stumbling forward as she dragged him towards the foyer. “What is going on?” he asked, looking back to Vincent for an explanation.
“I’ll explain on the way,” Ophelia said as she pulled open the front door.
Chapter Ten - Adam
“I’m not going to drive us off the road, so you can move that,” Adam said through his teeth, trying to catch a glimpse of a cherub-faced demon holding a very sharp knife over his jugular.
“Eyes on the road, sweetie,” she taunted, pressing the tip of the blade into the side of his neck hard enough to make him flinch. “I don’t know what the fuck you have going on with you, but the fact that you’re this coherent after spending a week with Vincent lets me know I should be cautious with you.”
Adam took a deep breath, his eyes scanning the country road for any sign of other cars in the distance. It was desolate, and even as good as the sun felt on his skin, he felt as if he was driving towards his own doom. Not to mention the small psycho in the passenger seat next to him, ready to cut his throat every time he shifted gears on the ancient rumbling heap she was making him drive.
Escape was so close, yet so far away. How could he be doing exactly what he planned—driving away from Vincent’s house—and still feel trapped?She has a weapon. You don’t. This is the same as dealing with the vampire. Play along.
But playing along seemed harder. He didn’t know thisperson. All he knew was that she was a human amongst vampires. What sort of twisted stuff was she into that she got along with a family of vampires?
Was she taking him somewhere to dispose of him? Had Vincent asked her to do this? Was his final resting place going to be a cornfield in the middle of bumfuck nowhere Illinois? When he had imagined death coming for him, it was usually in a drug-fueled haze. Somewhere fun like a night club or a house party. Not buried amongst the fucking corn.
“Where are we going?” Adam forced himself to soften his tone. For some reason, he had a feeling that she might respond better to being a bit demurer. After all, if she was Vincent’s niece, she probably had a similar intolerance to his bullshit.
“Larry and Viola Whitman’s farm. It’s another six miles on this road. On the right,” she said. “They’re dead, and I need you to help me find something.”
Adam pursed his lips. He wasn’t expecting that. Was this some sort of trick? A way to lull him into being more comfortable before she cut his throat? Because mentioning someone else’s death certainly wasn’t the way to do that. “Find what?”
She shrugged. “Not sure yet, my dad didn’t want me messing with the scene too much, but there’s something there. I need someone who is good at hiding shit to help me find whatever the douchebags who killed the old folks hid in there.”
“What makes you think I can help you find it?”
“You’re a former junkie, right? So, you know how to hide shit when you need to,” she deadpanned as if it were the most logical conclusion anyone could have come to.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel, the cracked and torn leather poking his palms.No one gets to call me a junkie. Only I get to call me that.“And that monster just let you borrow me for that? Does he owe you a favor?”
