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"Insufferable," Ashen mutters.
I didn't think he was that bad, I write, showing him my note with a shrug.
"You haven't known him long enough." Ashen's gaze stays fixed on the closed door for a long moment, until he seems sure that Cole won't return. When he looks back at me, the flame and smoke have dispersed, but he still seems unsettled. "What did you find on the body?"
Two pitchers?
"Two pitchers."
First of all, he didn't breed, thank fuck. I don't think I could handle the smell of hybrid vagina on top of decomposing dog dick today.
"Fair enough."
What I DID smell is a medical facility. Bandage adhesive. Rubbing alcohol. But something else, very faint. Clay. Anthracite. Ash. An old brickworks. I think they kept him in a repurposed factory before they moved him to where Cole found him.
Ashen's eyes light with excitement and he beams a bright smile at me. My heart turns over a heavy thud in my chest. "That is a solid lead, Lu," he says as he turns away to push the table back into compartment forty-seven.
If you promise to make me two more pitchers of fangria, I'll tell you the most interesting thing that I found, I write, grasping his arm to show him my note.
Ashen's eyes narrow, a conspiratorial smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "And what's that?"
You promise? Four pitchers? I fan my note in front of him with a coy smile.
"Deal, even though I might regret it when I have to carry you home."
I give Ashen a wicked smile at that intriguing possibility. I cast my pen across the paper. I turn my revelation toward him and I watch as he reads it, surprise igniting in his eyes when they meet mine.
The hybrid was poisoned, my note says. With Angelwing.
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Chapter 18
I stand in front of the mirror and squeak my palm across the condensation on its surface. Yes, I know I'll leave streak marks. That's the point. Call it retribution for Ashen packing my underwear but not my hairdryer.
Though his shower is awesome with its eight thousand fucking jets that pressure wash the scent of hybrid off my body, it's woefully unprepared to accommodate a lady vampire such as myself.
First, there's no conditioner. Only shampoo.
Next, there's only mansoap, which smells like the juice of all the world's lemons was combined with the oil from an entire forest of cedars and condensed into a single bar. How Ashen smells like tobacco and ink I'll never know.
Lastly, there's no aforementioned hairdryer, which frankly sucks balls.
A
I rummage through my bag, which contains a thoughtful assortment of shit I hardly ever wear. Exhibit A: a floor-length fitted black gown that I bought for Halloween with Ediye when we put on our own two-person murder mystery night. We solved the case in about fifteen minutes so got loaded on tequila and watched the Alien movies instead. I'm not sure why Ashen thought I might need it, but here we are. There are a few sweaters I hardly wear, so I guess he must have thought I am cold therefore I feel cold. Which I don't. But thank fuck he packed my oversized orange hoodie that I haven't worn in two years, because he obviously just chucked it in my bag without realizing there was a dress beneath it on the hanger. And thus, he packed that too.
It's white. It's short. It's lacey and cute and sexy. It's got a flirty, flouncy skirt and a low v-neckline and an open back with delicate crisscross straps. It's perfect for a bright soul to attend a di
Project Attraction and A
Okay I know what you're thinking: but Lu, that's not really flying undercover, you know? And yeah, I totally get that. But you're forgetting a few things. First, I'm bored. Not here, not in the Shadow Realm. I mean just generally, in life. Things were pretty boring before Ashen came along. In fact, as strange and freaky as this place has been, in a weird way I'm having fun here in his realm. It's exciting. It's scary. I still feel like I want to tear the whole place down, but that's part of the attraction. Maybe it's also because I feel like Ashen is starting to see it the way that I do.
Also, you forget that I love getting away with things. And wearing a white dress to di
But dude, I'm not stupid.
The other thing is that I stole the obsidian blade from Ashen's suit jacket. To your credit, you couldn't have known that. You also couldn't have known that Angelwing poison really sticks to stuff. For a long, long time. So, I take a bit of damp toilet paper and I carefully, and I mean oh so carefully, wipe the obsidian down and transfer the poison to my kaiken and katana. Then I wash my hands. Like, six times.
I pull my hair up in a sleek bun since my hair will never dry in time and I put on some makeup. Okay, maybe a lot of makeup. A smoky eye. A bit of winged liner. Maybe some fake lashes, whatever. Ashen packed it all, so blame him. Besides, it's a nice edgy contrast to my sweet little dress. Once my heels are on, I strap my kaiken to my upper thigh, the sheathed point of it visible just below the edge of my hem. It looks pretty hot if I do say so myself. I'm a bitch and a boss and I shine like gloss. All praise to Doja Cat for the hype song rolling through my mind. I step out of the bathroom, shoulders back and head high.
When I enter the main living area, Ashen is sitting on the edge of the bed, his ankle balanced on his knee, a book splayed across his leg. For a moment I just stop and look at him. Impeccable black suit, silk tie, polished shoes. His raised foot ticks like a clock. His hair falls over his brow, his eyes focused on the words in his lap. His fingers press a shifting pattern into the pulp of his lip. He's so engrossed in what he's reading that he doesn't notice me. It's like he has his own gravity in this room. A dark star, a celestial power, beautiful yet deadly. I feel like he pulls me in.
I write a note in my journal.
Time to pony up, Reaper. You owe me some pitchers.
I toss the notebook next to him on the bed. His head snaps to the side with the surprise of the impact. Then he looks at me.
For a second that feels too long, he doesn't move. It's as though he doesn't recognize me.
Something turns over in his brain and he sets his book to the side and stands.
"Lu... you..."
An eloquent start. I try not to smile as I raise my eyebrows in question. The Reaper swallows.
"You look... did I pack that?"
I grin as I walk to the bed and retrieve my journal. I make a point of turning around as I write so that he gets a full view of the low, open back.