Page 54

Nic

The hum of conversation. The lights glinting off the lake. Barry making food art while sending scorching looks at the waiter. All of it fades beyond the dread pooling in my belly and the poisoned wine in my glass.

I just drank CX3. I'm going to die.

“Listen,” Kai’s voice slides into my ear, low and steady, an anchor in open water. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

My fingers tighten around the stem of my glass as my breath hitches. “You’re hundreds of miles away, Kai.”

“I’m right next to you, Nicole.”

The words wrap around me like a warm blanket.

“Now,” he continues, voice silk over steel, “tell me how Barry’s doing.”

I glance at Barry. He’s still typing away on his phone, snapping pictures of the wine, blissfully unaware that the world is caving in.

“Um. He seems . . . pretty fine.” I clear my throat. "He's still on his phone. Taking photos of the wine."

“Good.” A beat. “And you?”

I don’t feel any different. My limbs still move when I tell them to. My heart still beats. I glance around the restaurant—everything is still in sharp focus.

Nothing seems distorted. Nothing feels wrong.

"Actually, I don’t feel drugged,” I insist, though doubt takes root. "I’m clear-headed. I know exactly where I am and what I'm doing. Kai, maybe—maybe it's not poisoned.” I clutch at hope. “Maybe it’s just—"

Kai interrupts. “Spit on the floor for me, love.”

A stunned chuckle escapes me. “Are you insane?”

But the words slither under my skin.

They press against something deep, something primal.

And before I even realize it—

I hack my throat and spit a glob onto the aisle.

No. No. No. NO!

Horror crashes through me. I couldn’t stop myself.

Barry snorts out a laugh. “Whoa, whoa desert camel?” He wags his eyebrows. “And in front of your boyfriend, too. Kinky!”

My stomach drops. Oh my fucking God.

I lunge for the napkins and drop to the floor, scrubbing at it with shaky hands.

Barry just cackles. “Relax. It’s not like they’ll throw you out over a little drool play.”

I’m fucked. I drank the poison. And now I can’t stop myself from doing as I’m told.

My voice drops to a whisper as I pick the phone back up. “I thought you said he was dead.”

A pause. Then—

“He is. But whoever gave you that wine will show up soon.”

A chill scrapes down my spine.

"Do me a favor, Nicole.” Kai’s voice softens. "Keep your phone on speaker. I’ll be listening in."

"Kai, I'm scared.” The admission slips out, childlike in its simplicity.

“I’ve got you.”

"But . . . but who would do this?"

I already know the answer, somewhere deep inside where truth lives, but my mind shies away from it.

"I need you to act normal,” his voice is strangely hypnotic. "If she approaches you, put the phone on speaker and leave it your pocket. Do not leave the restaurant with her. Do you understand?"

“Her?”

Before I can say more, Lana appears at the entrance. As she spots our table and begins approaching, panic settles in my stomach like a stone.

"Barry,” I murmur, my heart pounding like a drum. “Lana's here."

"Hm?” He barely glances up from his phone. "Oh, excellent. She’ll love the view."

He doesn’t feel it. The wrongness of this. And why should he? He’s not the prey.

I am.

As she weaves between tables toward us, I'm struck by how differently she moves. The careful grace I've always attributed to her natural poise now looks predatory, sinister.

She’s wearing a sleek black dress, her dark hair swept up to reveal the silvery scars along her face and neck. As if she’s hunting.

"Well, isn't this cozy?” she says, sliding into an empty chair. Her voice is warm. Playful. Like a cat stretching before the kill.

Barry beams at her. "Lana! Hey! Didn't expect you to join us! Nic said you had a migraine"

Her freshly manicured, blood red nails clack on the formica table. "All headaches can be . . . managed.” There's something in her gaze—a hunger, an anticipation—that makes my skin crawl.

I try to smile, but my face feels stiff, uncooperative. Still, Kai’s words swirl around my mind.

Act normal.

Her head tilts slightly, her eyes flicking to the wine bottle. "I see you're enjoying your gift."

"The boyfriend sent it,” Barry interjects.

Lana's smile tightens. "Did he, now? How thoughtful of my brother."

She picks up the bottle, rolling it between her fingers with practiced ease. "1970. A good year. You should be honored—Kai doesn’t share his collection with just anyone."

Lana doesn’t know that I know it’s not from Kai.

Or maybe she doesn’t care.

Or maybe I’m not even thinking straight anymore.

Barry tilts his glass toward her. "You should try it."

Lana giggles like a child, like she’s in on some private joke. "No, thank you. I don’t drink my own brand of poisons."

The words land like a slap.

"Your . . . brand of poisons?” I repeat, trying to sound merely curious while alarm bells scream in my head.

She smiles, slow and wicked. "Ever wondered why the best drinks were always reserved for donating clients at my charity events?"

My stomach plummets.

Oh my God.

The quarterly shipments in David’s warehouse, requested in liquid form. . .

I shake my head, trying to clear it. "You’ve been drugging your donors with CX3."

Lana tucks a loose tendril of hair behind her ear . . . I follow the motion and my breath catches. Because for the first time, I see what’s holding up her bun—

A single crow feather, its tip dipped in red ink.

Her signature. Her calling card.

Horror tightens around my ribs like a vise.

She sees my gaze and smiles. "CX3, Joystick . . . whatever. I prefer to call it my signature brand.”

Barry looks up. "What’s CX3?"

Lana shushes him by pressing a red-tipped finger against his lips. Barry frowns but returns to his texting.

"It was always served randomly, of course.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Wouldn’t want the entire room full of zombies. Now, for Kai’s girlfriends?” She adjusts the delicate feather in her hair. “That’s another matter. Too boring to get into tonight."

My pulse skips violently. "It was never David. It was you all along."

Lana tilts her head, considering me like one might a curious bug. "I did say he was innocent, didn’t I?"

The room starts to spin and blood roaring in my ears.

"I told you he protected me—well, except for when he beat me. Again, that was for my own good.”

My lids shut.

"Oh, you fucking clueless idiot,” Lana sighs, and my eyes fly open. “Don’t you see you’re still doing it? Seeing me as the broken victim.” Her voice sharpens. "The worst beating I ever got was because of you! He was protecting you!"

“What?”

She scoffs, “I promised him I’d stop, you see. After Elena. I promised I’d only use the CX3 to make him richer. But God, Kai was begging for it, the way he was all over you.”

She goes silent for a beat while I simply gape.

“And I’m rambling again. Where were we? Oh yes. Nobody listens to a scarred, pathetic woman, however loudly she screams."

Her voice is soft, almost wistful.

"Pain. Pleasure. Rage. Despair. They just gawk.” She gestures at herself, the cruel contrast of the silver scars at her face and throat. "No one truly sees her."

A beat. Then she brightens, as if shaking off a sad memory. "Now, enough with the melodrama.” She gestures at the lake beyond the window.

"You must be wondering why I came here, when I could’ve simply asked you to tell me how beautiful the water is tonight."

My gaze follows her gesture before I even register moving. The lake glimmers in the dark. Moonlight rippled and fractured across its surface. Deep. Black. Endless. It wasn’t this breathtaking a moment ago. Now it calls to me.

"It’s perfect, isn’t it?"

"Magnificent.” The word slips from my lips before I can stop it.

Lana turns to Barry. "Don’t you think Nic should see the lake from the pier?"

Barry finally looks up from his phone, his expression flat, unreadable. "Sure,” he says. "You should totally see it. Take selfies there."

I stand. I don’t decide to. My body just . . . responds.

Lana’s smile widens. "That’s it,” she tosses a careless wad of bills onto the table. "Let’s all go."

I try to focus. Try to recall Kai’s words—something about not leaving.

But the thought is slipping away, dissolving into the lake’s pull and Lana’s voice.

"The lake is so peaceful this time of night,” she says as we step outside.

The pier stretches ahead, wooden planks disappearing into darkness while the water waits below. Black. Infinite. Freezing cold.

I want to see it up close. I want to touch it.

"I’ve always loved the water,” Lana continues. "There’s something so . . . cleansing about it, don’t you think?"

Cleansing.

"The way it just . . . washes everything away."

Washes everything away.

The phrases lodge deep inside me.

We reach the end of the pier. The restaurant lights are distant now, a memory.

Lana stops, turning to face me. In the dim glow, her scars look silver, ethereal. Like runes etched by fire.

"What do you think, Nic?” she asks, gesturing to the dark water. "Inviting, isn’t it?"

It is.

God help me, it is.

I feel myself sway, drawn toward the edge, even as my toes curl in my sneakers as if to keep me anchored to the worn wood.

"The water tonight,” Lana says, voice dipping into a hypnotic lull, "it’s perfect for a dip. Don’t you want to feel it?"

I need to touch it. Sink into its depths

A shrill sound pierces the haze.

"Nic,” Barry sounds oddly chirpy. "Your phone’s ringing."

I fumble into my pocket for my phone. A sweat breaks over my skin when I see it’s Kai.

In a sudden moment of clarity I look around, my heart slamming against my ribs. The realization hits as panic claws up my throat. “Help,” I sob, jabbing the screen and connecting the call. “Kai! Help me.”

Lana steps closer, blocking out the world, her body a wall between me and everything safe. She yanks the phone from my hands and, without a moment’s hesitation, tosses it into the lake.

A small splash. A ripple and Kai is gone.

"If you want him that bad,” she points at the water, "get in the fucking lake."

A cold shock shoots through me and my fingers move without my permission, unbuttoning my shirt.

Tears spring to my eyes, still I can’t stop.

Lana huffs impatiently. "Oh, for fuck’s sake. Just leave the damn shirt on and jump in."

"Please.” My voice sounds small and broken. "Lana. Please."

She tilts her head, eyes gleaming. "What, don’t you want a cold dip?"

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to fight the pull. I do. God help me. I do. The want is unbearable. It’s like fighting the need to breathe.

The water is calling me. Relief is waiting. I step forward, my toes cramping now.

One step. One small step is all it would take.

Lana croons, almost tenderly. "Barry. Don’t just stand there. Help your best friend do what she so desperately wants."

Barry moves beside me, and wraps an arm around me.

Another flicker of clarity fights through my mind. "Barry, please. Help me. I don’t want it to hurt."

Barry shifts his grip. Tighter. His breath is warm against my hair. “It’s better this way, Nic.”

And then Barry swings me up into his arms and steps toward the edge.

I claw at his shoulders, Kai's words floating back. He told me not to leave.

The water below is no longer inviting. It roils like a den of coiling snakes, dark and endless. Waiting.

"Barry, please.” My voice breaks.

Behind us, Lana laughs softly.

Barry takes one step forward. Then another. And another. He pauses. "I’m sorry, Nic."

Then he lets go.

And I plummet into nothing, a scream ripping from my throat.