Blood seeped through Elise’s thoughts. When she closed her eyes, the crime scene remained plastered in her mind, as if a picture had been burned into her eyelids. The bloody bodies painted a horrific picture of failed attempts at protection and unearned respite. Colm’s throat had been torn out, muscles and tendons exposed to the harsh morning sun. Blood caked his clothes and pooled around him, soaking into Thalia’s hair. He reached for her in death, gun abandoned by his side, an effort for protection left unfinished.
“Lenox Avenue is still closed. I suspect businesses on that street will take a hard hit until this case blows over—”
Elise blinked the vision of blood away to see a slumped Sterling in front of her. He sat, one hand on the radio, head tilted to catch every word while his eyes glazed over.
“Sterling,” Elise muttered.
The radio continued, feedback growing louder, “This might be one of the worst reaper attacks Harlem has had in a while, but we can’t say we didn’t see it coming. New reaper cases have been emerging all over New York and the country with the influx of immigrants. People are now saying not to come to the United States unless you want to suffer. And let me tell you, other countries are surely laughing at us. It won’t be long before they invade to sterilize us. Now with last night’s attack, I’m starting to think all hope is lost—”
“Sterling, turn that off,” Elise snapped.
Finally, he switched the radio off. The static cut out immediately and he looked at Elise, eyes bright with grief.
Guilt plowed through her. He was hurt just as much as she was—probably more. Elise squeezed her eyes shut, willing her tears not to fall. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. The couch shifted beside her as Sterling moved to be closer. His knee brushed hers, and the spark of familiar warmth nearly made Elise fold into herself. Tears burned behind her eyes, the lump in her throat only growing more painful when she saw the redness in her best friend’s eyes and the quiver of his lips.
The silence, for once, was welcome. Neither knew what to say, and sitting with their grief together had been the only thing they could stomach doing since returning home.
Sterling inhaled, his shoulders shaking. “I never thought an attack like that would happen to us again.”
Elise pressed her face into Sterling’s shoulder, finally letting her tears fall. She might have stayed there for hours, his presence softening her pain, if the door had not opened. Her tears stung her face as she sat up and wiped them away.
Her father stalked into the room, bringing, for Elise, a cloud of uncertainty and resentment. A scowl twisted his face, the crease between his brows deepening as he gestured for Sterling to leave.
Sterling gave Elise’s hand a gentle squeeze, then left the room. Mr. Saint shut the door after him and turned to Elise, jaw tight. “I cannot imagine how you feel right now. Thalia was a brilliant young woman, and I know she was an even better friend to you.”
Hearing Thalia’s name made her heart skip a beat, but her breath resumed normally and she stared ahead. As if acting like nothing happened would make that a reality. But no matter how much Elise ignored the death, it remained. Like a scarlet mark in her life, their futures snuffed out in one fateful night.
More tears crested in Elise’s eyes. “It’s my fault she was there in the first place. I told her to come for a show—” Sobs cut her off.
Pity darkened her father’s face. He swiped a gentle thumb across her cheek, wiping her tears away. “Blaming yourself will solve nothing. You spent years blaming yourself and grieving the Quinn girl, and look where that got you. She was not a friend to you. No friend would ever put your life in danger like she did. To think the Quinns tried to convince me that reapers and humans could ever live in harmony… What a hideous goddamn joke.” Bitterness seeped into his tone and his voice went hard as he pulled away from Elise.
Elise recoiled. Her father continued, paying no mind to the distance spreading between them. “Layla Quinn has always held you back. You know your mother wanted to bring you home when you started sending us letters, saying how scared you were all the time in Paris. I can’t help but wonder where you would be now if you spent less time crying over that girl and more time focusing on yourself and your craft. Perhaps the Paris Conservatory would have admitted you immediately.” Mr. Saint’s voice turned cold.
Ice seeped through Elise’s body. “Father—”
“The Quinn girl is our main suspect for the murders,” Mr. Saint said.
In an instant, anger flooded her senses, turning her body hot. Layla’s interference—her threat—had turned everything over in Elise’s life. It made sense that she would have done this; she would have left a bloodbath in her wake just to get back at Elise. The air sucked out of her lungs and Elise inhaled deeply, trying to settle her nerves. “She took Josi’s ring,” Elise breathed. The thought of Layla laying a hand on her sister made her heart stop. Her hands began to shake and the room swayed around her. “She’s not safe here. She needs to be sent away somewhere—”
“Josephine is my heir—”
“Maybe she shouldn’t be.” Elise snapped her mouth shut. The words had tumbled out so quickly, even her father lifted a brow in surprise.
He drew closer to her, his fingers pressed together. “And who should replace her?”
Elise wanted to look away. His eyes held a challenge so great, she felt like she was being led into a trap. But she lifted her chin and spoke softly, “Me.”
Her father watched her for a long moment. Then he yanked his shirt collar so his tie loosened around his throat. Unintelligible grumbles left his mouth as he rummaged around in the drawer of the side table before coming away with a lighter and a pack. Mr. Saint lifted a cigarette to his lips and lit it. They stood there in silence while he smoked, his eyes leveled on Elise, the patriarch and his discarded heir staring one another down. Finally, as the smoke sifted between them, he spoke, “Why you? Do you feel guilty about what happened to Charlotte?”
Elise flinched. She hoped the answer would have been obvious. She was his oldest daughter. But perhaps her value to him had been discarded with her innocence the night Elise failed to save her older sister.
“You said it yourself, since Layla has had a taste of my blood, she will always be linked to me. I might be able to get her to talk,” she said.
Mr. Saint moved toward her. His dark eyes pinned her to the spot and fear tore through her for a brief moment, her heart pounding, when the hot rage etched into his expression did not ease up. “There is no ‘might,’ Elise. I want you to play her like you play your little instruments, weaving every kind of story and lie you can from her.” Smoke left his mouth in thick swirls, filling the air between their faces. Mr. Saint backed away, rubbing his hand over his forehead. “This murder has shaken this household. Stephen Wayne is reconsidering our partnership now. How I will expand my empire without his funds and his projects, I have no idea. The city might fall without us. Reapers might finally overtake us all, just as the rest of the world is predicting.”
Elise breathed in, the smoke singeing her nose. “Sterling can help—”
“No. Sterling has his own responsibilities to worry about,” Mr. Saint grumbled.
Just the thought of her home being overrun by reapers again made Elise shudder. She could not lose anyone else to their terror—she refused. “I do not want the empire to fall, Father. I will get Layla to talk. Whatever it takes,” Elise said, stronger this time.
Mr. Saint nodded slowly, the fire in his eyes finally settling down. “Why are you so willing, Elise?”
Elise paused, considering his words. She didn’t want this at all. Just a couple weeks ago, she had been ready to spend her days in France, playing music. But things had changed. “I want Josi to be safe—”
“Don’t lie,” Mr. Saint said.
Elise’s throat tightened. I want control back over my life. “I’m tired of Layla ruining everything.”
A slow smile spread across Mr. Saint’s face. “Understandably. When you are done uncovering this crime and collecting necessary information on the reapers, you kill her.”
Elise stole a glance at her family ring. The sun never left the gold signet alone; it was almost like a taunt when the shine blinded her, reminding Elise to remember exactly where her loyalties belonged.
She stuffed her hands into her pockets and hurried along the street. The end of August neared, but the summer weather remained in full swing. Elise’s curls stuck to the back of her neck, where sweat steadily formed with each passing minute she spent outside, a cool breeze being the only respite from the heat.
Finally, her destination appeared at the end of the block. At the police department, an officer led Elise straight to Layla’s holding cell. The maximum-security bars, made with Saint steel, should have made Layla seem less intimidating, but the malice burning in her sharp eyes still sold her out as the most threatening thing in the room. When Elise first met her searing gaze, she felt a shift, and all those years between them, all their laughter, their happy memories, their betrayals, came rushing forward. Something unrecognizable flickered in Layla’s eyes, but she continued to scowl.
Elise approached the bars and stared down at her old friend turned adversary. “Breaking into my home and threatening me wasn’t enough? You had to kill three innocent people?”
Layla seemed unfazed. She lifted a brow and when she spoke, her words were cool and slow. “Did you make Daddy promise to give you money if you crack me?”
Ire flared in Elise, her skin pricking with heat. Layla seemed to sense it. Her lips pulled back into a snarl and golden light filled her eyes. “I won’t talk to you.”
Layla was the most stubborn person Elise ever had the displeasure of knowing. And getting her to open up was like trying to split open a rock with her fist. How Elise had managed to crack that tough exterior years ago and find exactly what made Layla tick, what made her happiest, evaded her now. And while Elise looked into the defiance set deeply in Layla’s eyes, she wondered if she had gotten herself into something impossible.
“Layla,” Elise said calmly.
“No,” Layla said. She sat on the concrete floor of her cell. “And as long as you stand out there, and I’m in here, you will get nothing out of me.”
Elise lifted a brow. “You want to be released? Talk to me.”
She expected Layla to perk up at the deal, but her scowl settled deeper into her face and she turned away from Elise. “No.”
Elise’s throat tightened, frustration threatening to choke her. “You said you wanted to be freed.”
“I’d rather rot in here than work with you on any matter that could benefit your disgusting family,” Layla snapped. “Waltzing out of here on a Saint’s arm would send such a beautiful message to my clan.” Her words were dry and clipped with sarcasm.
A frustrated scream rose in Elise’s throat. But she dug her heels into the ground and gritted her teeth instead. “You would not just rot in here. Someone would take you away, whether it be scientists, or government officials from another country, and you would be at their mercy until your immortal body gave out.” After having gone over them with Sterling so many times before arriving, the words sounded stiff to Elise. But the faint flicker of fear in Layla’s eyes told her they were working. “But let it be known, this situation is not just about my family. This is bigger than all of us.”
An empty smile found Layla’s lips. “Wow. I didn’t know it was possible for you to think of anyone but yourself.”
Elise narrowed her eyes. “If we work together, we will benefit from each other. Isn’t that what your parents wanted? For reapers and humans to be united?”
Layla went still, the only movement being the newly sparked fury in her golden eyes. “Do not speak about my parents.”
“You leave me no choice. There are people dying, and you’re hissing over a broken friendship that you should’ve gotten over years ago.”
“To you, it’s just a broken friendship. It was easy for you. You’re not the one who died.” Layla’s words sent chills down Elise’s spine.
Elise swallowed hard. She held her stare for a long time, watching the clashing emotions Layla contended with. Then she backed away from the bars separating them and sighed. “We don’t have to be friends, we don’t have to like each other, hell, we don’t even have to respect each other. All I’m asking is that you speak to me.”
Layla pondered her words for a moment. “What do I gain?”
“Your freedom and the opportunity for you to prove your innocence with my support—if you give me the information I need,” Elise said through clenched teeth. The agreement she made with her father echoed in her head, but she shut down those thoughts.
“I have no reason to trust you,” Layla said.
Elise pursed her lips. “I’m willing to look into your claim that Theo was not human.”
A smile spread across Layla’s mouth. And even though it reached her eyes, joy was not present, but rather a sick, twisting malice that made Elise’s stomach turn. “Good start,” Layla nearly purred. A sizzling sound filled the air as her flesh burned when she placed her hands on the bars and bared her fangs for Elise. “Tell your father and the dumb investigators that I have all of my teeth. Whoever’s tooth is in the throat of your precious Saint isn’t mine. It’s probably Theo’s. Care to explain why Theo has a bullet wound? An innocent human shot by a steel bullet meant to kill a reaper. How odd.”
Elise’s expression fell into confusion. “Why would a human—”
“He wasn’t human. The sooner everyone understands that, the sooner we will solve this mystery,” Layla said. She pulled back and watched Elise with expectant eyes.
Elise closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling as she counted backward in her head. When she opened her eyes, she stepped closer to the bars and whispered, “I need proof and corroboration from other reapers if I’m to believe any of your claims.”
Calculated malice flickered through Layla’s eyes. She drew her finger over a steel bar, her damned flesh burning against the blessed metal. “I could get it for you. Just not from in here,” Layla grumbled. Blood dripped between them and landed on Elise’s boot.
Elise scoffed. “As if I could trust you on the other side of these bars.”
Layla leaned back, her fingers slipping off the metal. “Fine. Good luck getting any of my clanmates to cooperate with you. You’ve been gone for so long, Harlem doesn’t even recognize you as its own. The city will eat you alive, and my clan will finish whatever is left of you.”
All the air in Elise’s lungs went cold. Giving Layla one last stern look, she swallowed hard and looked at the officer standing guard. “Release her.”