Night fell over Harlem, and the monsters came out to play. Normally, Layla would join in for a hunt, or help Valeriya settle new clan members in, but since Mei had her covered as payback for ruining her bed, she gratefully lounged on her new sheets and ate chocolate-covered strawberries. A silver Saint ring twisted between her fingers as she chewed, the seal staring up at her with annoying radiance.
Layla smirked and shoved it back into her pocket. Pulling the ring from Josi’s finger as she slept had been a last-minute decision. Just something to keep the older Saint girl up at night when she realized reaper hands had touched her younger sister after all.
Only minutes into her peace, she heard a quick knock, followed by a note slipped under her door.
Layla—
Pick up the package at the port at 10 p.m. Ask for Visily. Say you’re there for Vex.
Layla stared at the neatly scrawled message for a solid minute. Then she burst out laughing. “I cannot believe this fool.” She tucked the paper into her pocket and pulled her coat on. She wondered what to do with the half-finished strawberries sitting on her nightstand. They were one of the few foods she had learned to tolerate since becoming a reaper. But the strawberries would only melt while she was away, so Layla took the bowl with her as she headed down the hall.
Valeriya looked up when she saw her standing in the door to her study. “You brought me a gift?” she asked.
“Yes,” Layla said a little nervously. She set the plate down and licked a spot of chocolate off her finger. “It’s my strategy to give you gifts because I know I will inevitably make a mistake in the future and this will help you remember you do not hate me.”
“You’re funny,” Valeriya said. She did not laugh; her tone remained completely deadpan. “You just made a mistake and on Saint territory, nonetheless. Mess up again and you’ll find yourself on the streets. It would do me better to have fewer reapers to look after here.”
Layla opened her mouth to say something. But Valeriya went back to scribbling at the paper on her desk, so she only sighed and left.
Despite Valeriya’s frequent coldness, Layla would keep trying with her. Nowadays, Layla rarely trusted anyone. But she trusted Valeriya, no matter how rigid she stayed. Sure, Valeriya took care of Layla, but that was her obligation as an ancient reaper, part of an agreement with the city to keep younger reapers under control. Sometimes Layla wished she would show an ounce of affection. But in moments like these, Layla realized just how starved she must be for warmth. As a reaper, such tenderness was not warranted, or expected. No matter how many years it had been since turning, Layla never got used to the numbness of being damned. Especially after losing parents who had hugged her just because they wanted to feel close to her and who told her they loved her through every word they exchanged with her.
The longer she lived as a reaper, the more distance she put between herself and her past, herself and love, herself and hope. As long as she was damned, the relationships she formed would be too.
Fog settled over the port like a blanket. Layla walked through the thick mist, water droplets clinging to her clothes and hair. The port was almost completely empty, save for a single man stacking boxes on a truck. He looked up at her with stern eyes and settled his hand over his hip, no doubt where he concealed a weapon.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
Layla pulled her hands out of her pockets so he knew she was unarmed. “I’m here for Jamie…” Layla clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “I’m here to pick up for Vex. Where is Visily?”
The man stared at her for a long moment. “He’s calling himself Vex? Really?”
“That’s what I said!” Layla exclaimed.
He shook his head. “He can have his package, but tell him to pick a better name if he wants people to take him seriously.” The man nodded to a wooden crate on his left side. “There you go, kid.”
Layla hauled the box into her arms and left. The sound of liquid sloshing around inside confirmed her suspicions that she was picking up liquor for Jamie. Luckily for her, reaperhood came with the perk of increased strength, so she had no problems carrying what could have been several bottles of the illegal stuff. It was an easy payback task for someone who needed help cleaning up a murder. Sometimes Layla wondered why Jamie was so nice to her. He could so easily ignore her, but he answered her. Every time.
The sound of a scuffle behind her made her stop in her tracks. Layla turned to survey a nearby dark alley. More than likely, it was a reaper, or a drunk person lurking where they shouldn’t be. But something told Layla to wait. A familiar scent filled her nose. She set the crate down and crept toward the source of the noise.
A scream split the air around her. It ended in wet choking, like the person was being drowned. Layla tensed, prepared to defend herself, when she recognized the scent. Youth and blood all rolled into one. “Theo?” she called.
A figure slumped out of the alley, and Layla hissed when a hand reached toward her.
Blood plastered the woman’s dark hair to her head, her eyes stretched wide with terror. “Help me,” she barely managed to choke out.
“Thalia!” a man’s voice called out. Then he was there, too, crawling toward the woman. He was as good as dead. The amount of blood Layla smelled in the air told her that before she saw the gaping wound in his throat.
She turned, intending to leave Theo to his hunt. But something on the man’s chest gleamed and caught her eye. Layla would know that badge anywhere—the Saint lotus and North Star.
She realized then she’d once known the dying girl—remembered she and her mother would visit the Saint house. Memories flashed in her mind, making her head spin. Her body went stiff and she launched herself into the alley.
Theo’s eyes found her and he swiped a bloody hand at her, but she reached him first, slamming him against the wall.
“What are you doing?” she seethed. “Touching Saints is a death sentence. Back off.”
But Theo’s eyes wouldn’t focus on her. “Theo,” she tried. Her nails dug into his shoulders so hard she drew blood. Veins popped in his eyes, turning them almost entirely red. Layla had seen reapers so sick with blood poisoning that they hallucinated in a comatose state, but she had never seen anything like this. Theo clawed at her like he was being controlled from the inside out.
“Theo, it’s me, Layla—”
His nails, long and black, slashed at her. Layla backed away as blood seeped from her middle. He had barely touched her, but it stung like liquid fire melting across her body.
Theo stumbled away from her. He pounced on the two humans still trying to claw their way out of the alley.
Only then did Layla see the bullet hole in his back, right over his heart. But he still stood.
Layla tried to walk toward him, but her entire world swayed and the ground shifted beneath her feet. A roaring filled her ears. Black frayed at the edges of her vision. She finally reached him and grabbed his shoulders, trying to haul him off the bloody bodies. But his strength beat hers. The roaring in her ears intensified, and Layla screamed.
Then her world went black.