Page 58 of Villains Series

THREE HOURS UNTIL MIDNIGHT

THE THREE CROWS BAR

ELI sat in a booth along the back wall of the Three Crows and waited for Dominic Rusher to show up.

He’d checked with the bartender when he first arrived, and had been assured that Rusher came every night around nine o’clock.

Eli had been early, but he had nothing else to do besides wait for midnight and whatever that would bring, so he’d ordered a beer and retreated to the corner booth, savoring the time away from Serena more than the booze.

The drink was mostly for appearances anyway, since regenerating negated its effect, and alcohol without inebriation was far less enticing (he’d been carded, too, and the novelty of that had long worn off).

But the distance from Serena was important—vital, he’d found—to maintaining his slim hold on control.

The longer he was with her, the more things seemed to blur, an intoxication Eli’s body didn’t overcome so easily.

He should have killed her when he had the chance.

Now, with the police involved, it was messy.

Their loyalty was to her, not to him, and they both knew it.

A new city, that’s what he needed.

After midnight and Victor and this whole mess was sorted out, he’d find a new city.

Start over.

Away from Detective Stell.

Away from Serena, too, if he could help it.

He didn’t even mind the prospect of his old method, the time and dedication it took, the weeks of searching for the mere moments of payoff.

Things had gotten too easy lately, and easy meant dangerous.

Easy led to mistakes.

Serena was a mistake.

Eli took a sip of beer and checked his phone for messages. There were none.

Eli had hunted here once, a few years back, before Serena, when he was still a ghost, just passing through.

The place was loud, and crowded, made for people who liked to surround themselves with chaos instead of quiet, ambient noise built of glass and shouting and music to which you could never discern the lyrics.

It was an easy place to be invisible, to vanish, swallowed by the low light and the din of drunk and drinking and angry people.

But even knowing that, Eli was neither bold enough nor foolish enough to perform a public execution.

Serena might have secured him the police, but the people in the Three Crows weren’t much for cops or conformity.

A problem could escalate into a disaster in a place like this, especially without Serena to soothe the masses.

Eli reminded himself again that he was glad to be rid of her influence, both over others and over him.

Now he could, out of want and necessity, do this his way.

He checked the time.

Less than three hours until … until what?

Victor had set the deadline to rattle him, put him on edge.

He was disturbing Eli’s calm, like a kid dropping rocks into a pond, making ripples, and Eli saw him doing it and still felt rippled, which perturbed him even more.

Well, Eli was taking back control, of his mind and his life and his night.

He drew his fingers through the ring left by his beer glass on the old wood table, before writing one word in the film of water.

EVER.