Page 56 of Our Vicious Descent
This time, true laughter broke past Layla’s dismay. She leaned her face into the crook of Elise’s neck and inhaled, the familiar intoxicating scent of her returning Layla’s messy nerves to a state of calmness. Her heart beat so hard, Layla believed at first that she felt it in her toes. But the music had died down, and Layla knew it had to be something else causing the bumping beneath her feet.
She pulled away from Elise and looked down, watching thefloorboards jump every few seconds. Now that Elise’s perfume had cleared the heady scent of food from her senses, Layla could smell fresh blood. The banging stopped briefly, then started up again, as if someone were beneath the floorboards, desperate to claw their way out.
“Do you hear that?” Layla asked as she straightened.
Elise looked confused. “No? What is it?”
Layla tried to glance between the floorboards, but she saw only darkness. “I cannot be positive. But I think the blood rooms are beneath us.” She tried to walk to the edge of the room, but Elise held her wrist to stop her.
“We should go. Find someone to talk to about karma.” Elise led her through the throng of people. The next room over was not as packed with people, and Elise quickly found a booth with space beside two reapers. They eyed her with curiosity, then hungry desire. “May we join you gentlemen tonight?” Elise asked.
Layla tightened her hand on Elise’s, not liking the predatory look these reapers maintained on her. “Elise…”
One reaper nodded and patted the open space next to him. “Always for a Saint.”
A rush of hot blood flushing Elise’s cheeks had Layla shaking her head. She tried to pull the Saint back, but she settled in the seat anyway, dropping her hand. “Can you tell us where we can find karma?”
As the other reaper leaned over the edge of the booth to whisper to someone out of sight, Layla wanted to grab Elise and remind herof the dangers that came with not sticking to a plan. But the Saint heiress looked perfectly comfortable flying by the seat of her pants; Layla couldn’t help but wonder how long her luck would last, if it did at all.
“Karma will be all around us soon. This is the room where the magic happens.” One of the reapers winked.
As if on cue, all doors that served as exits and entrances to the room slammed shut. Elise jumped in her seat and looked around as bouncers stepped in front of the doors for extra assurance that no one could come or go. She leaned in to whisper to Layla and nodded toward the stage. “Your turn. See if you can get a better look at everything from there. I’ll continue talking.”
Layla complied, albeit with hesitation. She made her way toward the stage and tried not to think of any of the reapers getting too close to Elise. Soon all Layla could think about was the state of the blood rooms beneath them. If the scent was this strong through the floor, Layla could only imagine how depraved it was in the actual rooms. She pushed past a group of people at the bottom of the staircase and hurried upstairs. Eventually she made it into the backstage area, where dancers lined up and rehearsed behind the curtain. They ranged from middle-aged women to girls younger than Layla. Some stretched their long limbs by the wall, brown skin glistening with stage makeup even in the low lighting of the small space. Others paced by the curtain, muttering eight counts beneath their breath as they blocked their routines. It had been so long since Layla had been in the presence of other dancers just before a show, and sherelished in the buzz of their energy. She wanted to pretend, just for the night, that she was one of them, that she was destined to end up on the stage and maybe even catch the eye of a scout who wanted to hire her to dance forever. But for now, all Layla could do was watch and hope. As a reaper, she was no more destined for a better future than an illness the entire world wanted to eradicate.
To distract herself from the bitter emotions, Layla poked her head out of the side of the curtain and began surveying the crowd beyond. Her gaze found Elise in the booth with the reapers, who all looked at Elise with an interest that bordered on predatory. The sight made Layla’s eye twitch, and she found herself almost moving out from behind the curtains. Every part of her craved to be near Elise now, her heart picking up the pace and skin lighting on fire as she thought of another being—specifically a reaper—laying a hand on her.
Until Layla sensed the presence of other reapers, this time closer to her. She turned. Even with all the costumed performers pressing in around her and the scent of powdered makeup in the air, she smelled the ancient blood twisting among the youthful human essence of the younger dancers.
A spotlight lit the stage, and a young man stepped out to face the audience. “Thank you all for attending tonight. As you may have heard, this show is far from ordinary. You will become absolutely bewitched. May I welcome to the stage a volunteer who wishes to be the first to partake?”
Shouts rang out across the room, and several audience members shot their hands up to offer themselves. But Layla was alreadywalking onto the stage, her face a mask of cool confidence. A few disappointed cries erupted from the crowd, and even the announcer gave her a stunned look. “Very well then. One more volunteer and we’ll be all set.”
An eager but somewhat shy man with hunched shoulders and a wide smile was brought onstage next. Then a blood so familiar filled her senses, Layla almost whirled, expecting Elise to have followed her behind the curtains. But instead, she came face-to-face with the littlest Saint.
Josephine Saint, wearing the red horns of a devil, stared up at Layla. Her brown eyes flashed with recognition, and she stayed put, not moving a muscle or even flinching as Layla leaned in closer to make sure her eyes did not deceive her.
“Josephine Saint…” Layla whispered. This interaction contrasted greatly from the first time they had seen each other in years. Before breaking into the Saint estate on the night of the party two months ago, the only image Layla had of Josi had been one of a girl barely out of her infancy. With eyes so full of childlike innocence and skin softer than a rose petal, the youngest Saint daughter had only ever filled Layla with the urge to protect. Until the night of the Saint party, when she crept into her room and hid in the shadows with the intention of striking fear deep into her heart. Truthfully, Layla had been aiming for Elise. When she realized it was Josi she’d happened upon, it was too late to turn away. The little girl had already seen her. Fear lit her eyes immediately, and a bloodcurdling scream that still echoed in Layla’s bones had rattled the room. Layla did not think shewould ever be able to shake the realization that she was the monster under the bed, the thing lurking in shadows that made everyone warn girls not to take nighttime walks.
The girl looked older now in her stage makeup, which painted her mostly red to match the glittery dance costume and headpiece she wore. A devil. They had dressed this little girl like a devil. Layla’s fangs threatened to break free at the startling realization. But the curtains were already pulling back, and another human had settled beside her, with one hand held out. Without looking, Layla could still sense Josi on the other side of her with her own human partner. The stage lights were so bright, at first all Layla saw were blurry white flashes while she took the man’s hand and stepped onto the stage. It was not until the music began and her vision adjusted to the lights that Layla even knew what to do.
Before she could process the familiar jazz song blaring throughout the room, the man was swinging her into a stiff stance. Layla faced him, noticing the sheen of sweat covering his exposed throat and arms. For a long time, she had always assumed it would be a cold day in hell before she ever experienced stage fright. Growing up, the stage had been one of her few safe havens, and stepping onto had it felt like coming home. But now, after these startling moments, all Layla could think about were the countless ways she could fail during this performance. Her grip tightened on the man’s shoulders as he pulled her across the stage, their feet moving in perfect sync with the music. Jazz had never been Layla’s preferred dance style. Her toes stepped on her partner’s during various quick turns, and her backarched a bit too far on certain dips, but for the most part, she kept up. Even as she began to sweat and the smell of blood became more pronounced the longer the dance went on, Layla became grateful for the relentless training her dance instructors had forced her through.
After one particularly prolonged spin ended in a pose, Layla took the moment to stare into the crowd. While many in the audience applauded the way she and Josi held their positions, Layla locked in on the sight of Elise in the clutches of the two reapers at the booth. One held her in place with an arm wrapped around Elise’s waist while the other gripped her chin, leaning in to sniff her throat. It might have appeared scandalous in the way most people perceived flappers to be, with their short dresses and casual naked vulnerability, but in a place like this, where no one knew of mercies and blood flowed freely beneath the floor they stood on, Layla knew there was nothing but sin being planned between the reapers’ blushing faces and roaming hands. Elise smiled at both of them, but the smallest flicker of fear in her eyes sent a spark of fire up Layla’s spine.
Just that one look had her digging her nails into her dance partner’s shoulders. His movements hesitated, bringing her face-to-face with the younger Saint girl.
“Where is the karma?” Layla whispered just loudly enough for Josi to hear over the music.
A devious look filled the girl’s eyes, and she laughed. “It’s me. I’m karma.” She twisted back, launching herself out of her partner’s arms.
The man startled, confused. Josi landed in a crouched position on her feet, one hand on the dusty floor while she glared up at him.The intensity of Josephine’s displeasure might have been strong enough to start several wars in another life. In this one, however, her nose dripped blood that leaked down her mouth and over her jaw. The audience gasped as they watched the broken dance routine fall apart before them. Layla’s partner released her, and she was glad to see that the halted performance had baffled the spectators so much that even the reapers with Elise stopped what they were doing to look toward the stage.
Layla felt something shift in the air. But though the crowd murmured about the show, she knew it had nothing to do with the onlookers. A violent chill swept through her senses, and she turned to the small Saint girl. Josi now stood facing her partner, who looked desperately contrite. Apologies spilled from his lips, but only a faint roaring filled Layla’s ears as she watched Josi’s gaze turn into something more lethal. As soon as Layla recognized Josi’s expression, the Saint girl lunged for her partner. Despite being much shorter than the man, she knocked him over with the precision and quickness of an experienced predator. Josi slammed the man onto the floor and was upon him in seconds. Blood sprayed across the stage, and screams erupted from the audience as she tore into his throat. Flesh fell away from the man’s body, which had gone eerily still in only moments. Josi appeared to not be drinking from him but rather playing in his blood; a smile split her lips while she pressed her palms into the blood spilling across the stage and gripped her partner’s face with rough hands.
The roaring in Layla’s ears only continued as she approached the girl, her hand outstretched. With the chaos of the room explodingaround her, she stayed intent on reaching Josi. By the time she did, the man was far beyond dead. His glassy eyes stared up at the ceiling, mouth and chest agape from Josi’s assault. Layla tried to reach for her, but a clear voice, desperate and lovely, cut through the commotion.
“JOSI.”
