Page 102 of The Blood we Crave: Part Two

She’s fighting to keep the upper hand, unaware that she never had it to begin with.

“Justice is important to you. It’s why you wear that St. Michael necklace.” I point at the gold chain hidden beneath her blazer. “Even though you’re not religious, let alone Catholic. You’ll be the hero this story needs.”

Shock reads on her face clear as day, and I watch her fingers twitch to reach up for the piece of jewelry around her neck, but she refrains, biting down on the inside of her cheek before sucking her teeth loudly.

“I guess you’re not interested in playing the good guy? The hero?” she snips.

I laugh, cold and distant. “Not when morally gray looks this good on me.”

The suit tailored to my body is Brioni, and the shade is actually steel gray, but I can never miss an opportunity to be satirical. It’s all a part of my hedonistic charm.

“Why should I trust you?” She raises an eyebrow, and I know she’s expecting me to lie.

“Oh, you shouldn’t.” I shake my head, reaching into my slacks pocket and retrieving a thin piece of white paper. “This is my address. I’ll be moving back into the estate soon. If the things in those files don’t add up and you still believe I’m your killer, then you know where to find me.”

I’m the last person Odette should put her faith in. But I know she is curious enough to want to look into those files in front of her. She’s going to let me walk out of here whether she likes it or not.

The only reason we are doing this is for Rosemary, for our freedom. This doesn’t change what I am or what I do from time to time.

At the end of the day, I may not be the Imitator, but I am a killer.

The two of us will forever fall on opposite sides of the law. This is only a ceasefire in an ongoing war between us. A brief truce for the sake of a dead friend and the survival of the girls in this town.

I let her stare at me blankly for another moment longer before rising to my feet. I feel the entire cafe tense uncomfortably, both customers and police officers waiting for her command.

I take my time to snap the button at the front of my suit, reaching into my pocket and opening my wallet. I thumb through a couple of large bills before tossing them onto the table.

“Are you seriously bribing an officer in public?”

“Don’t insult me, Detective. It would’ve been much more than that if I was.” I click my tongue. “This is for your coffee, along with Gerrick Knight’s, who is sulking in the corner, the unmarked vehicles, and the three agents behind us. Enjoy.”

There is a lightness in the air as I start to leave, a weight lifted from my shoulders knowing I’m walking out of here and going home to her. The initial in my chest throbs beneath my clothes.

I’m walking out of here towards a future with Lyra. A future with a woman who owns my soul and fiercely protects whatever is left of my frigid heart. I’m not sure what our days will look like, but I know they’ll be better than anything I’d ever imagined for myself.

There is no dream, no goal, no hope.

It’s just her.

Her dreams are mine. Her goals are mine. She is my hope.

“Regardless of what’s in this, Pierson,” Odette calls out from behind me, “this isn’t the last time I’ll be seeing you.”

I slide my dark sunglasses over my eyes, smirking as I look over my shoulder.

“Maybe, maybe not.” I shrug, my tone sharp. “This is the only time I’ll be playing nice though.”

ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL

TWENTY-EIGHT

Lyra | Three Months Later

I hate living in this fucking house.

That’s a lie.

I don’t hate it. I just get…frustrated.