Page 2 of Watch Me Burn (Sanctuary #1)

CHAPTER 1

FIRE

SIX MONTHS LATER

M y entire life as I knew it changed forever because I broke my nail.

If it was my pinky nail, I could’ve dealt with it. One on my left hand? It wouldn’t have been such an emergency. But the pointer finger? On my dominant hand? When the inch-long tip snapped as I was popping the top on my can of orange soda, breaking all the way down to the quick, I knew that I couldn’t wait until morning to get that sucker fixed.

It’s not even just a vanity thing, though I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t use my nails as another outlet for my creativity. Visiting my manicurist at Shadow Nails once every three weeks is my favorite form of self-care. Angie does my fingers and my toes, and for the two hours I’m there, I can put my pencil down and let someone else do the designing. I was only just there a couple of days ago, but I know me. It’s going to drive me bonkers to have one jagged nail until my next appointment.

And considering the nail appointment is one of my only splurges, I’m not about to cut off the rest of them to match. No. The only solution was to go and see if I could get it repaired, and since Shadow Nails is open until seven and it was only six when I snapped the nail, I figured there was enough time for me to head over, get it fixed, and be back before Elise came home from her dinner date.

That way she would never know I had to leave the apartment after dark on my own…

Considering how we met, you’d think I’d be more concerned over her safety. And I definitely am. It’s been about six months since I interrupted her and Peter outside of the Sanguine… six months since she told me she was actually looking for a roommate to share her two bedroom apartment inside the building… and I’ve caught him sneaking around the front entrance, waiting to ambush Elise to ‘talk’ at least ten times since then. She’s moved on, having a dinner date with another casual fling every few days, but Peter just can’t get it through his thick skull that whatever they had, it’s over.

Elise is too nice to report him for stalking. If it were up to me, I’d go right to the cops, but my first impression that they don’t really have a big presence in Clarity was spot on. Despite being a decent-sized city, the people in Clarity don’t seem to answer to law enforcement. Instead, we have the Cadre to protect us, and to make sure that no one starts any shit in the city.

The Cadre is made up of a group of powerful businessmen who rule Clarity with an iron fistful of cash. They have their base of operations in one of the downtown skyscrapers known as Homequarters. With their fingers in nearly every organization, business, and school in the city, it didn’t take me long to realize that I’d much prefer to have a run-in with the ineffective police force than the man who is the face of the Cadre.

Thorn Wilkins owns Clarity. I’ve seen his face on watchful billboards, have gotten used to his smirk on television. Handsome yet ruthless in his drive to keep Clarity safe, I understand now why Peter balked at the idea that Thorn would find out he was harassing Elise.

Especially since Elise works as a data compiler down at Homequarters and actually has met with Thorn in person.

From what I’ve learned in my time in Clarity, you don’t want to do that. Thorn has the power to kick you right out of ‘his’ city, and not even the puppet figurehead that is the elected mayor would stop him from exercising that power. Piss him off, go against the Cadre, and you’re gone.

My rent is affordable. My roommate is a sweetheart who I get along so well with, I consider her my best friend. I haven’t started dating myself yet, but if Elise’s love life is anything to go by, once I decide to put myself out there, I should be okay.

Then again, she’s a fucking knockout with a gentle personality and a kind heart so maybe I might have to work a bit harder. That’s alright. One of these days, I’ll settle down. For now, I’m just focusing on growing my career and enjoying the last year of my twenties.

I turned twenty-nine in January. It’s February now, and I’m feeling my age creeping closer and closer to the big three-oh. Especially since, to my absolute shock , I discovered that the fresh-faced, youthful-looking Elise is actually thirty-four instead of in her early twenties like I thought.

All her dates made a little more sense when I found that out. She’s looking for her own forever—that she adorably refers to as her future ‘beloved’—and doesn’t seem to want to wait much longer. Me? It’s been a while since I’ve had a relationship of my own, but with Aunt Maureen finding a second chance at romance late in life, and Elise keeping her chin up about the whole Peter situation, I’m starting to think about it for myself.

Too bad it’s not so easy when I work from home and rarely leave the apartment. There’s not really a bar or club scene in the city, and when I do go out, I’m usually with Elise.

And Elise… well, she’s Elise. I love her, but if I guy has his choice between her and me, I’m not shocked that he’ll hit on her first. There’s just something about that woman that is hypnotic, and it took me almost my whole first month as her roommate to get over it. Shoot, there are some times when she walks into the common area of the apartment when I’m drawing on my tablet, I get a glimpse of her flawless skin and pale green eyes, her supermodel body and her kind smile, and I’m still a little tongue-tied.

But though I’m worried about her from time to time, the reason why Elise thought it would be a great idea if I became her roommate was because she was worried about me .

You see, Clarity has these really weird, super outdated rules. The stats weren’t kidding when they said it was a pretty crime-free community, but that’s because most of the citizens know about these unspoken ‘suggestions’. Like how all of the shops, food places, and non-essential places of businesses all close down early—or how it’s not a good idea for anyone to be out by themselves after dark.

You’re not going to get in trouble trouble if you walk around alone. It’s just accepted that, if we leave the apartment after the sun goes down, we go in pairs. Whether that’s me and Elise hitting one of the few restaurants that stay open late, or Elise’s dinner dates accompanying her back to the Sanguine, when it comes to how women are treated in Clarity, it’s a throwback to a different time.

Of course it’s only women who are expected to do that. If I hadn’t seen what Thorn Wilkins looked like myself, I’d think he was some ancient man who thinks he’s stuck in another age. Nope. Thorn is barely forty, but as the head of the Cadre, if he thinks it’s safer for us to be each others’ chaperone, whatever.

Especially since that’s not going to stop me when I have to head out on a quick errand or two.

Like I said. We don’t get in trouble. It’s more like the people on the street give us a strange, speculating look as we pass them by. That’s why I usually hop in my car if necessary, but Shadow Nails is only ten blocks away. I can handle the dirty looks for ten blocks.

Though, as I grab my phone, my hoodie, my keys, and my debit card before locking up the apartment, I only hope that I make it home before Elise does. I can handle the dirty looks from disapproving strangers. But when I disappoint Elise by flaunting the rules she’s spent her whole life following as a Clarity native?

That sucks, and it’s the only reason I try my best to play along.

Because, yup, Thorn isn’t the only leader of the Cadre who enforced these admittedly misogynistic rules. His predecessor must’ve done the same, and though Elise’s parents have moved back to Holland where her father was from, she grew up here and, to Elise, following the Cadre’s mandates isn’t weird. It’s just what you do in Clarity.

I’m from Queens. It takes a lot more to get me to abide by some archaic rules I don’t necessarily agree with. My nail broke, I want it fixed, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

During this time of year, it’s dark by five-thirty. It’s past six now, but it looks like it could be the dead of night out here. I almost head back in, figuring I can suck it up and head to the salon in the morning. Then I shake my head, chiding myself for being a weenie. Pulling my hood up, thinking that I can pass for a dude under the thick sweatshirt, I step out onto the sidewalk.

I’m not wearing a coat. For as long as I can remember, the cold’s never really bothered me; when Frozen came out, I used to sing along with Elsa like ‘Let It Go’ was my own personal theme song. I love the snow. Love the chill in the air. I guess I’ve always just run at a higher internal temp because I barely notice it.

Though, when I was a kid, it was easy faking a sick day because I’ve never seen a thermometer give me a reading below one hundred. That’s normal for me. I don’t get fevers, and I don’t feel the cold. In the summer? I’m in my element, too, almost like I’m a lizard who lives to roast in the heat. It’s another reason why I don’t mind walking everywhere. No matter the weather, I’m comfortable.

Across the street from the Sanguine, there’s a man all bundled up. At least, I think it’s a man. He has on a dark, heavy coat, dark denim jeans, and a scarf that covers up most of his face. He’s standing beneath the awning of the enclosure that marks the bus stop.

His head shoots up as I move away from the entrance to the apartment building.

For a second, I think Peter’s back. I haven’t seen him lurking around since the holidays, but then I notice this man—and it has to be a man—is taller and broader than Peter. Plus, his hair is a lighter color. Closer to a straw-colored blond than a deep brown, I’m pretty sure I know who he is.

I rarely leave the apartment, but by that I mean that I rarely leave the block. When I get frustrated with my latest commission, or I feel a little too cooped up inside, I throw on my shoes and head outdoors for some fresh air.

And for the last week or two, anytime I’ve done that, I’ve inevitably seen this one guy waiting at the bus stop, staring over at the Sanguine.

It’s weird, but then again, I’m a creature of habit, too. Maybe I take my usual breaks at the same time without realizing it and it just so happens to be when the bus schedule makes this stop along the route. That’s most often mid-afternoon, and it’s after six now, but this bus travels all over Clarity. He might just be heading out for the night after a day at work.

There’s no reason for me to take the bus when I can make it to Shadow Nails so much faster on foot. So, glancing away from the stranger at the bus stop, I feed my keys through the gaps between my fingers, a makeshift weapon in case I need one.

Then, pretending like I’m Wolverine, I duck my head and start down the street.