Page 169 of Buried in Blood
I turn back to him, eyes wild now. Gleaming.
“When she does—track her. Let her think she’s safe. Then we take her. Quietly. Completely. No blood.”
“And then?”
Ismile.
A wide, sharp, unholy thing.
“Then I show her what betrayalreallycosts.”
* * *
She’s near.
Ifeelher.
Like a phantom limb—still twitching even after it’s been severed.
She didn’t go far. I knew she wouldn’t. Harmony was always sentimental beneath the bruises. Shewantsto be seen. Wants someone to recognize her scars and whisper, “You’re still good.”
But she’s not.
She’s mine.
And I willburnevery city block until she remembers that.
The desk in front of me is littered with maps—routes, tunnels, abandoned properties I used to own. A cigarette dangles between my fingers, ash spilling across a handwritten list of names. Girls who might still be loyal. Girls who might still beuseful.
Harmony’s name isn’t on it.
She scratched her name out the second she aimed that gun at me. The bullet didn’t kill me, but heraudacitynearly did.
Reese’s “save” was messy. Too convincing.
He’s lying to me.
I know it.
He’s always been too quiet where she’s concerned. Too slow to strike. Toosoft.
I slam my fist onto the desk, sending papers flying.
“She’sfucking with me,” I snarl. “Leaving breadcrumbs. Making a goddamn game of it.”
I grab the burner, hit speed dial.
Reese answers on the second ring, cool and clipped. “Still tracking.”
“Where?”
“A bookstore off Ninth. She’s staying local. But she hasn’t contacted anyone.”
“She will.”
“I’ll grab her tonight.”
“No,” I snap. “Iwill.”
