Page 5 of Our Vicious Descent
With her fist raised over the door, she hesitated. Perhaps it wouldhave been better to take Julius up on his deal. Let him pay for the mess at the dock and settle the debt with Jamie. Anything would have been better than this.
But the thought of owing that man made her knock immediately.
The door swung open after a few moments, revealing a young Black woman with a curious smile. Maria. One of her fangs glinted up at Layla in the low light. “Back so soon already? You’re normally in only on the weekends.”
Layla swallowed the rise of bile in her throat. “Something came up. I need money tonight.” She glanced behind the reaper in an attempt to scope out the movement inside, but the older woman shifted, blocking her view. Layla sighed. “Is there any way I can—”
“No. You know the rules. You give, you receive. If you need money, you must give yourself up.” Maria nodded toward her. “So, what will it be tonight?”
***
For what felt like the hundredth time that month, Layla found herself trapped between four suffocating walls. Though the blood had been cleaned thoroughly—as it always was after each use of the room—she still smelled it buried in the divots and cracks in the dark paint. If the walls were white, there would have been stains and clearer proof of the depraved pursuits that occurred.
The roaring in Layla’s ears muffled the sounds of the club bumping overhead.
Only curtains closed her off in this room, separating her from the other illicit deeds taking place throughout the blood house. The reaper at the door had been kind enough to leave her a bottle of wine should she need it to soothe her nerves. But Layla knew the night would haunt her long after she left, no matter how much wine she poisoned herself with.
Just as she was beginning to settle back against the plush leather seating, the curtains shifted, and in stepped a masked young woman. She walked on long pale legs that her fringed dress struggled to contain. The wide gray eyes behind the mask dampened her confident stance. Layla could practically pick out every ounce of fear in just her expression, despite it being half hidden by her extravagant accessory.
Layla tilted her head to the side, eyeing the young woman. “The mask is not necessary, you know. I won’t hunt you down. And even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t need to know your face.” Just the implication of blood had Layla’s fangs emerging. It had been a long stretch without feeding—the longest she had gone in ages. Being here was more dangerous than it was smart, but Layla trusted her self-control. She had to. It was either that or succumb to her urges and end up just like she had at the Alhambra two months ago—violent, vicious, and merciless.
Her hands tightened into fists, and she ground her teeth so hard, her jaw ached. Layla was glad when the woman spoke again, since she had something else to focus on before the visions of her past horrors could resurface.
“I know never to trust a reaper. I will not take any chances.” The woman rolled her shoulders and took a step closer.
“Yet you are here, presumably for some of my venom,” Layla said, her voice level. She could have been colder. She could have promised this woman violence and scared her half to death just to make herself feel bigger. Night after night, Layla had heard other reapers doing just that to their human patrons, for no reason other than their own wicked desires.
The adrenaline from their fear makes their blood taste better. Sweeter and more delectable, one had told her in passing after witnessing a particularly brutal bite. This was how some rogue reapers got their fill of human blood without causing a scene. Reaper venom was as persuasive as it was addictive, and every human here was infected with it.
Still refusing to remove her mask, the young woman stood in front of Layla with her hands folded behind her back. “And you want my blood.”
Layla shook her head. “I do not.”
“No?” The woman took a seat beside Layla and drew closer to her. The intoxicating scent of her human blood coaxed Layla’s fangs out. She turned on instinct, her eyes finding the rapid pulse in her throat. The woman laughed softly and pulled her hair over her shoulder, baring the slope of her neck. “You look like you do.”
Everything in Layla wanted to lean in and sink her fangs into the soft flesh before her. She could tell herself it would mean nothing. That it would taste like every other human’s blood she’d had before.Maybe it would even be better. But she knew that would be a lie. No matter how much she yearned for the warmth and purity of human blood, her stomach twisted at the thought of consuming it from anyone besidesher—
“Saint,” Layla cursed under her breath.
The woman startled a bit, her eyes going wide. “I am not a Saint.”
“I know,” Layla snapped. “And I don’t bite, so put your neck away.”
“Really? A reaper who doesn’t bite? Strange. How will we exchange our arsenal if you do not bite?” the woman asked. “I specifically requested you because I enjoy a challenge. They say you’re worse than karma.”
At this, Layla almost flinched. “What does that even mean?”
“People who come to see you never return. Your venom works instantly. Karma…doesn’t hit until much later,” the woman said breathily.
It took a moment for Layla to realize she was speaking about another type of venom. Layla had never considered whether her venom was as satisfying or functional as other reapers’. Not while it was too lethal to be used. She only hoped the rumors about it were good enough to get her paid.
Layla pulled a knife from her belt. The same knife she had used against Elise’s throat just a few months ago when she had broken into the Saint estate during their tenth-anniversary celebration. Saint steel made up the blade while the handle remained a heavy sterling silver with intricate designs—the most damning of them all being the Saint lotus flower and north star.
The woman gasped at the sight of the weapon. “Are you the one who caused all that havoc with the Saints?”
Truthfully, Layla had not been by the Saint estate since Tobias’s oldest daughter had denounced herself as heir months ago. What had become of the place was none of her concern, though part of her wondered if Elise had ever returned and what she thought of it now that the place had crumbled more than thrived. “Is that what you’ve heard? It was reaper instigated?”
“It always is. Whenever reapers and humans come together—”
