Page 15 of Our Vicious Descent
The officer nodded slowly. His eyes found Elise once more, contemplating and curious this time. “We plan to interrogate the Harlem reapers. You mentioned Layla Quinn being at the gathering last night, but we have been unsuccessful in seizing her at this time.”
“Shocker,” Elise said flatly. Anger heated her skin, and she pressed her fingertips together to keep from shaking too hard. “She’s the one who matters the most.”
Another voice spoke up. “I believe it.” Mayor Arendale had arrived at the scene. The man took up ample space, commanding his surroundings with his broad shoulders and accusing eyes. Elise hated looking at him almost as much as she hated being in the vicinity of her father.
The mayor gave her a steady nod. “You and Layla Quinn were the last to see an innocent young woman before she died last night. According to our experts, her death was consistent with the effects we’ve seen from karma. I think we should reopen the investigation on the new drug. If our youth are not safe, then no one is.” He nodded to a nearly empty vial on the evidence table that had been set up nearby. “This reaper venom was found at the scene, assumed to have been consumed by that woman. It is believed to be the main ingredient in the karma drug that is spreading rapidly through Harlem now. I know you know these reapers and how far they are willing to go to keep Saints and their allies down. Your mother and that youngwoman will certainly not be their last victims. Harlem will not be safe until we can neutralize this deadly agent.”
Much to her surprise, he did not ask any questions. The man instead turned to her father, who then gave him one final nod before they watched him walk off with the police officers. Elise felt Tobias’s fingers tighten on her arm before he turned to face her. “I want to tell you how I need you back in this empire, but you’ve shown not a single ounce of self-control since you came here. Have you lost your mind?” he hissed.
Elise met his ire with a glare that made him flinch. “As much or as little as you have, Father.”
“Is there a reason why you showed up here last night?” Tobias whispered sharply.
A muscle twitched in Elise’s jaw. She frowned, her body tensing under his grip. “I want you to continue the search for Josi,” Elise snapped.
Finally moving away from a heated discussion with several officers, Sterling stepped up to them. His expression was guarded. With all the tragedy surrounding them, he somehow still managed to hide his feelings. “We never stopped. I know this is an emotional time for everyone, but your anger and tears will not bring her back,” Sterling said.
Elise lowered her eyes for a moment. It did not escape her that the last time she had seen him, he had been turning away from her after shooting a bullet into her heart. How far their friendship had fallen in the name of a man who would trade them both for a chanceat ruling the city. Elise knew she would not get far without proper resources, but going back to her father felt like a betrayal of herself.
No amount of fear of the reapers who wanted her dead would force her back to this empire. “Clearly Sterling is not doing enough. I want to claim the Harlem lair. We can make them listen. I will make Layla listen.” Elise spoke strongly.
Her father tensed beside her. “You finally speak like a true Saint.”
“I’m doing this for Josi. Not for the empire.”
Disgust wrinkled Tobias’s nose. He dropped her arm and backed away. “I hardly recognize you. And to show up unannounced after months of leaving your mother to suffer heartbreak—she would hate this side of you.”
Despite it all, Elise could not find it in herself to feel scathed by his words. She had spent so long learning how to remain standing beneath his fire, the blood from licking her own wounds tasted familiar. Elise recognized every part of this hurt, broken man. The shards that made up his losses held no reflection of her. She could only swallow the rise of tears in her throat, sensing the finality of her words not yet spoken. “It should have been you. Not her.”
Elise turned away just as the pain broke across his face. She swiped the vial of venom from the table as she moved out of the garden. Dawn welcomed her at the garden gates, the early sun a necessary warmth in all the coldness.
***
Elise watched her blood fall into the sink. No amount of time spent hunched over the porcelain while nursing her self-inflicted wounds would ever make the process easier. From ruined nail beds due to her biting and open wounds on her hands from her clenched fists, there was always something to take care of. Violence, Elise found, was the only way she knew how to deal with herself. Choosing mercy had never been her instinct, despite her lending it to others. When it came to herself, she only knew how to be ruthless.
Until now.
She thought of the shock that had shone in Layla’s eyes while her blade pierced her throat. It was a moment Elise had only ever dreamed of during their five years apart after Layla’s turning. Never had she thought she would get the chance to act upon those violent desires—certainly not against a reaper.
Elise studied the venom in the vial that sat on the edge of her sink. She barely even remembered stealing it; at the time, her emotions had run so high, all she could think about was finding Layla. Now her impulses waned, but the desire to taste the venom and see how strong it could make her remained. If it gave her the control she so desperately craved, all pain that came with it would be worthy.
Before she could convince herself otherwise, Elise unscrewed the top of the vial and dipped her finger into the venom. The substance was slippery on her fingertip as she pulled it out and had a sickly-sweet smell to it. All things that might have given her pause months ago had no effect on her now. Elise pressed the tip of her finger into her mouth and swallowed.
In a world where poison dripped through every crack, lingering in every interaction, she wanted to be resistant to it. Maybe, she thought, if she kept up with regular microdoses, she would become used to it and eventually be made of poison herself. Or maybe it would kill her and all this would end.
The venom tore through her at first. Liquid flames seared through her veins, and she doubled over the sink, gritting her teeth to keep from screaming. Goose bumps rose across her flesh as her mouth filled with saliva. Her teeth bit down on her tongue so hard, twin wounds formed beneath her canines, spilling her own blood. An eternity might have passed before the pain finally subsided. She looked up, catching the red gleam of broken blood vessels surrounding her iris.
Movement behind her stole her focus. Elise turned to see Sterling standing in the bathroom doorway, his gaze traveling from the blood staining the sink to the vial of venom still open on the counter beside her. Shadows as dark as violets smudged beneath his eyes, which looked darker than the bright amber Elise remembered growing up with. “I’m surprised you came home. You insisted you no longer needed us,” he said.
Home. This new brownstone deep in the heart of Harlem felt even less like her home than the Saint estate her father had abandoned in favor of greater obscurity from the public. There was nothing familiar about it. Even though her mother had taken the time to decorate rooms for her, Josi, and Charlotte, to keep their memories alive, the belongings had never been touched by them—nomemories clung to the space between the walls. They might as well have lived in a hollow corpse.
“You have your motives; I have mine.” Elise tried to speak clearly, but the poison, numb on her tongue, caused her to stumble over her words.
Sterling crossed his arms over his chest. “You and I both want the same thing. Your sister back and retribution for what happened to your mother. There is enough rage between us to get things done,” he said roughly.
Elise scoffed. “I’m not sure I can trust that you won’t try to kill me again.”
A muscle tensed in Sterling’s jaw. “Is there anything I can do to make you hate me less?” he asked. When Elise held tightly to her silence, he sighed, shifting on his feet. “I’d be careful with that venom if I were you. That particular strain is similar to the new drug devastating Harlem. Sometimes it works too well, and you don’t know how close it is to killing you until it’s too late. That’s why they call itkarma.”
