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Zade stiffens beside me, though his face stays unreadable.

“Leaked video?”

Mark flaps a hand, attempting to gloss over what he confessed. I glance at Zade, noting the subtle tic in his jaw.

“Yeah, but I keep telling them they don’t have to worry ‘bout it. Our So-ssocciety will take care of it, and no one will be none the wissser.”

I open my mouth, ready to pry, but a quick warning glance from Zade has me snapping my mouth shut.

He must be talking about the videos from the rituals.

“I’m sure they’re taking the necessary steps to make sure the video is handled, alongside whoever leaked it,” Zade assures casually, swirling his drink as if there’s spices resting in the bottom of the cup.

“Are they ever!” Mark bursts out, slapping his hand obnoxiously on his ornate desk. “The video is handled, it’sh finding the pershon who leaked the videos that’s th-the problem. They’ve been interrogating an-and watching our every move for months now!”

I didn’t think it was possible for Mark’s face to turn any redder, but he’s starting to look like the Kool-Aid Man.

“Well, whatever the case, I’m sure it’ll be handled soon.”

Zade is careful with his words and is deliberately refusing to pry and dig out extra information. I’m not sure if whatever Mark is saying is sufficient, or if Zade is in for the long haul.

“Yeah, sure,” Mark mutters. “Guessh the bright shide is that nothing can happen to us. I-If one of us goes misshing and the Society ss-suspects foul play, guess what? They will up and relocate within hourss.” Under his breath he mutters, “we all will know who to blame anyway.” I can’t hear the rest of what he says, but for a second, it sounds like he says Z.

A pregnant pause passes, and it seems like Zade has to collect himself. Mark is too wasted to be mindful of the word vomit spewing from his mouth.

I don’t know what the fuck this Society is, but they obviously can’t trust an inebriated Mark and his big mouth. He’s spilling all kinds of shit, and though I can’t make sense of most of it—Zade clearly can.

“Good thing, wouldn’t want anything to happen to my new friend,” Zade teases smoothly, his face morphing into a relaxed state as he lies to Mark’s face.

Mark believes it, laughing alongside Zade and spending the next ten minutes telling my shadow how grateful he is that they met.

I nearly snort from the irony. Zade is both Mark’s judge and executioner, and he’s too stupid to see it.

Zade sips at the amber liquid in his cup throughout the whole mushy tirade, but by the time we’re rising to leave, it looks like he barely consumed an ounce of it.

“Thank you so much for having me,” I say graciously. Mark cups my hand in both of his, and a cold feeling embeds beneath my flesh, digging deep like a parasite. His hands are sweaty, but all I can feel is ice.

This man… he’s evil. It feels like touching a corpse.

I slide my hand from his, resisting the urge to wipe it against my dress.

I wouldn’t want to ruin such a pretty dress anyway.

Just as I’m walking out, Mark calls out, “I’ll be seeing you, Adeline.”

The second the door closes, Zade growls beneath his breath, “You’ll be dead before that will ever happen.”

I never thought I’d condone murder, but with Mark… maybe I can overlook it just this once.

Another week passes, and Zade continues to haunt my house. My dreams. My goddamn nightmares. And in this moment, with Zade’s hand firmly wrapped around the column of my throat, squeezing until my vision blackens, it feels less like a nightmare and more like Hell.

For the tenth time, I freeze and can’t seem to coerce my limbs to move. Heat lashes at my insides, and the raw look in his eyes—the unrelenting pleasure he takes out of draining the life from me—it does nothing but stoke the single flame burning in my core.

He lets go with a click of his tongue and a sidelong look. As if he knows precisely how twisted up my organs are.

Fuck him.

I’m sweating profusely and becoming increasingly irritated beyond belief. He keeps calling me little mouse, but mice don’t look like drowned sewer rats last time I checked.