Page 19 of Violence and Vice

I trust you did what you had to do.

My life is so off the rails right now.

I just confessed to killing a man, and these two incredibly powerful, incredibly important men have simply given me their support.

Because I’m one of them.

What fucking alternate universe am I living in?

Chapter 5

Ispend the entire night looking for Ares. I swear, I have to walk thirty miles, maybe more, in the twenty-four hours I search. I try calling him fifty times. It goes straight to voicemail every single time. I text him about a hundred times, but none of them say delivered. It’s obvious Ares’ phone is dead. How far gone is he now? Over the last week, he’s definitely acted weird. There’s been the times he can’t remember what he did. But he’s always had moments of himself. He’s come home. He’s spent time with me. He’s still been him. But it’s been thirty-something hours since I last saw him, and Ares hasn’t been logical enough to plug in his phone? He hasn’t tried to contact me or anyone else?

Just how bad is it now?

Damn. I don’t want to know, but I have to.

The Wall Street district, mid-town, Harlem. I swear, I search the entirety of Manhattan. But he could be anywhere now. He has his motorcycle. In the few minutes he went back to the penthouse, he probably grabbed his wallet, so he has money now. I should have thought to check for that while I was at home.

What other vampires does Ares know?

Is Harry next? Sysco?

The sun has just broken over the horizon, and I should be absolutely exhausted, but I’m not. I’ve been darting around this city literally for twenty-four hours. My legs should be on the verge of collapse. But I feel just as fine as when I left the penthouse. But the sun is coming up, and the streets are getting busier and busier.

There’s a slight burn in my throat now, though. It’s been just over twenty-four hours since I last drank. Ineedto go home soon, because for the very first time, as I look around at the people bustling around me, they smell good.

Really, really fucking good.

I notice pulses. In necks, at wrists. I can hear their hearts beating.

I turn a corner, aiming myself back for the penthouse. But as I walk down the street, it feels familiar. I realize why when I look up and see Ophelia’s building just down the block.

My chest tightens as I remember the last time I was in that building. How thoroughly she rejected me. How she all but spat in my face. It didn’t matter how I tried to reason with her. It didn’t matter how I explained.

She sat in that beautiful apartment, and she judged me. Judged Ares. Someone she wouldn’t even give a chance.

My feet suddenly falter. I come to a stop right across the street from her building.

Ophelia’s beautiful apartment.

I stare at the building, scraping my eyes over it. It’s damn near brand new. I wouldn’t call it upscale, but it’s definitely nicer than most of the itty-bitty shitholes on this island.

Ophelia never should have been able to afford it.

But she’d somehow sweet talked the landlord into giving her a killer deal.

Ophelia walked into the top law firm a month ago and got a job she was under-qualified for, when they weren’t even hiring.

My breath catches in my throat.

Something sharp bites at the backs of my eyes.

Ophelia has always had a way with words. She so often has been able to get what she wants. Not always. But often.

Fuck.

Ares went to see Ophelia the morning everything went bad.