Page 41 of Killer of the Bells
I mean, sure, it was absolutely brilliant while I was in the crosshairs of Apple’s attention, but when it wore off, I felt completely gutted. It was horrible in every sense of the word.
I allowed myself to fall over and lie on my side, content to stay there until I froze to death, because what was the point of anything anymore? My family wasn’t getting less dead, and I wasn’t getting less alone. Everything was stupid, and boring, and?—
“What on earth are you doing?” Vale’s voice came from outside the tent.
I scrambled to my feet, hit my head on the only tent pole I’d managed to successfully erect, and fell on my ass with much cursing.
Like,allof the cursing.
“Fuck you, Apple,” I spat, as I struggled in vain to get out of the tent. “Fuck your charm, fuck your family, fuck your stupid collective, and fuck you, too, Vale. Fuck every last bit of you.”
There was a tearing sound, and I could see daylight again. Vale’s hand grabbed me by the upper arm and dragged me to freedom.
“You’re welcome to try the last part,” Vale said dryly, “but Adam already has permanent dibs on Apple, and most of the collective is already spoken for.”
As Vale helped me to my feet, I asked, “What about Apple’s family?” because I was trying to be an asshole, andnotbecause I wanted to hear more of Vale’s silky, seductive voice. Definitely not.
“I never bothered to ask because I don’t care.” Vale pulled me far closer to him than I was comfortable with, considering how outraged I was at his entire family of murder hobos.
“Did you have fun doing crime without me?” I snapped and pulled myself free.
Well, I tried to pull myself free, but Vale only tightened his grip on me, holding me firmly in place.
“It was abysmal,” Vale said. “There was no one to kill, and Gareth was a little bitch about the whole thing. I got all the blame for us getting there too late, which is entirely unfair in my opinion, because Baz showed up in the garage after we did. Now there’s Christmas music playing in every room in my wing of the house, and I can’t figure out where it’s coming from or how to stop it.”
I shuddered. “That’s positively evil.”
Vale gave me another ghost smile, and my heart fluttered. “It comes with the territory.”
“Of doing crime?” I asked.
Vale shrugged. “May I ask why you’re out here?”
“Apple,” I said through gritted teeth. “Apple said I should camp on your front lawn, and for some god-forsaken reason I listened to him.”
Vale’s eyes narrowed. “Please excuse me for a moment.” He vanished before I could register it. The sensation of his hands on my body lingered, and I rubbed the places he’d been touching me as I stared blankly at where Vale had been standing.
“He does that a lot.”
I yelped and stumbled backward, stammering incoherently because I had nothing to echo. Standing right beside me was Baz. Or Vix.
Honestly, I had no clue which, and to this day, I still don’t know unless one of them starts talking about fun ways to killpeople or creative ways to make ordinary household objects terrifying beyond all reason.
The redhead gave me a coy grin and said, “I don’t have magic vanishing or appearing powers, by the way. You were just super engrossed in your conversation with Vale. I’ve been here the whole time.”
“The whole time?” My voice squeaked.
How much did he see? Had I given him anything to see? Wait, was I trying to hide something? I hadn’t done anything wrong, so why was I acting like it?
“Oh yes. I got to see some magnificent eye-fucking, and let me tell you, around this house, there’s some truly epic amounts of it.”
“Epic,” I say lamely.
“I’m Vix, by the way,” The redhead held out his hand for me to shake, and I took it hesitantly. “I know we already met, but there were extenuating circumstances, and hey, congrats on not dying. Baz and I are super impressed. Vale leaves more bodies than any of us, and he doesn’t even try. Baz is continuously salty about it. Maybe with you around, Vale might be distracted long enough for Baz to get ahead, and I’ll finally stop having to attend his daily bitch sessions about it.”
I stared at Vix with my mouth agape. He had so many words while I had so few, and they meandered wherever they wanted to go. Unwillingly, I found myself liking the little guy. He was just so soft and friendly.
“Vix,” I said, finally giving his hand an answering squeeze. He’d hung on for his entire monologue and showed no signs of stopping.
