Page 53 of White Raven (Nevermore Duet #2)

THE THING

It was the single-most satisfying cigarette she’d had—if you’re not counting the ones after really good sex, which she hadn’t had since she’d left Boston.

Ryan Sykes had found herself thinking way more about the petite, blush-haired little time bomb at the tattoo shop than she wanted to admit.

She didn’t often have a lingering taste for prospective lays after playing with them once or twice, but that one—that one left a mark.

Leigh had been so much like her, and she almost felt like if that girl had known what she really was, she probably would have only found her more delectable.

The bitch was a tad crazy, and pleasantly odd in all the best ways.

Maybe that was why she couldn’t let her go.

Ryan took a long drag from her cigarette, dangling a lone foot over the edge of the rooftop of one of the tallest buildings in Seattle, as she sat on the ledge with a knee to her chest and her phone lighting up her opposite hand.

Maybe she could just admit that she was lonely and growing tired of servitude.

Was that it, though? Her master had made it clear that she could go if she so pleased.

But go where? Back to Portland? To an empty house, void of life and happy memories?

To Boston, seeking out people that never wanted her there in the first place?

Leigh had been about the only person that seemed genuinely happy to make her acquaintance anyway.

Her thumb lingered over the unsaved number she knew would allow her to hear that girl’s voice…

but it’d be a mistake. It was better for her to do her master’s bidding and remain alone.

He was good to her. He vowed to be after taking so much from her initially.

Fuck it.

The phone started ringing well before she put it to her ear, and she stared off at the Space Needle as it twinkled with light against the drizzle overhead.

“City morgue, you kill ‘em, we chill ‘em,” Leigh answered, obliviously. Ryan’s smile cracked across her mouth, and she pulled another hit from her smoke. “Hello?”

“What’s the going rate for storing large tits?” she asked, grinning.

“Oh, my God…Ryan?” Leigh sounded like she dropped something, and the music in the background suggested she was at work. “I should tell you to go fuck yourself, what the hell do you want?”

“You know…I’ve always wanted to know if funeral homes put underwear on their stiffs. Do you know a single woman that would want to be buried in a fucking bra? That seems ridiculously tragic.”

“A travesty…” If it weren’t for the blaring music, she would have thought Leigh had given her the same courtesy she’d bestowed. She couldn’t blame the girl for feeling a little salty. “If you were over it, you could have just said so. Dead people aren’t the only ones with big panties.”

Fair. Ryan tugged her lip with her teeth. “I did you dirty. I can admit that. It wasn’t you, though. I—” A call was coming in, and she looked down at her screen. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“Ryan! What the fuck, dude. Are you in some kind of trouble or something? Your hot detective friend told me they’ve been looking for you. Seems like you make more enemies than just the ones you hook up with.”

“They questioned you?”

“No, I went looking for you at your job. I was ready to either rip you a new asshole or kick your teeth in for ghosting me like that. They said you didn’t work there anymore, and they wanted information on where you ran off to.”

Ryan chuckled under her breath, flicking the cigarette and watching it disappear into the traffic several stories below. “I bet they do. What did you tell them?”

“Well, you didn’t leave me with much other than an implied ‘fuck you’.”

She was hurt. Maybe Ryan hadn’t been the only one catching feelings that had no business being caught.

“Let them sniff around. That was the whole reason I came to Boston, anyway. You’ll be the only reason I come back.

I called to apologize, Leigh. I didn’t leave because of you. I should have told you goodbye.”

“Why didn’t you?” she asked, after a brief silence.

“Because goodbyes suck. Especially this one. Don’t forget me, alright?”

“Ryan…”

“Later, Leigh.”

“Ry—”

Call ended.

She sighed heavily, redialing the number that had cut in during her conversation, and tried to gather her wits when he answered.

“Apologies. Have I interrupted something?”

“Not at all.”

“You’ve been distracted as of late. I do hope this isn’t going to be a hindrance.”

“No, Master. You know I’m devoted to you.”

“I hope that’s true. Empires can’t stand on faulty foundations, Ryan. The cost of repair can be taxing. You’re far too valuable to me.”

“You have nothing to worry about.”

“Good. It’s time for your next assignment. I feel my offspring is getting close. It’s time to alter the scale.”

“I’m on my way, sir.”

He hung up, and she stood, staring down at the busy traffic so far below.

If she did it, would she survive? Would it end this madness, or just leave her to wake in a different part of the nightmare?

It wasn’t worth finding out. She turned and hopped off the ledge onto the rooftop and made for the unlocked door to the stairs.

Several days had passed, and Athan had still seemed on edge about something, but Sarah refused to ask…

even though it was killing her to know he was keeping something from her.

As they stood in line at a coffee shop a block down from Nell’s place, Sarah clutched her arms and got lost in her thoughts, her face glued to the scuff on her boot.

“Almost a week, and you haven’t asked me a single thing about Brent,” Wren cut in, breaking her concentration. “Consider me shocked enough to know there’s something wrong with you.”

Sarah raised her face, meeting Wren’s eye roll and smirk. “I didn’t wanna pry.”

“Oh, bullshit. You were the reason I busted him with his overly friendly doctor at his apartment.”

What?

“I’m sorry—what?” The line moved, and they stepped forward with it as Wren looked over the shoulder of the guy in front of them at the menu. “You’re joking.”

“Nope. She was trying to lay it on him when I walked in, and we had words.”

She knew it. She knew Dr. Ambrose seemed a little too interested for it to be nothing that day at the hospital. That bitch would get it. “What happened?”

“Nah, you want the tea, you gotta spill yours. What’s wrong with you?”

“You’re such a bitch.”

Wren shrugged, smirking again, and the guy in front of them glanced over his shoulder. “You and Athan fighting too?”

“Too? Who else is fighting?” It hit her then. “Oh…Rhaena. Her and Brandon still haven’t worked out their shit?”

“I think so. I haven’t heard much from her since a few days ago. She’s supposed to go to the doctor today.” They moved up another step.

“The doctor? Why, what’s wrong?”

Wren turned toward her, raising an eyebrow. “Did he not—you know what? Last time I overstepped my bounds, you called me a Judas. I’m just gonna stay in my lane.”

Okay, something was going on. Whatever it was had something to do with Athan, and it was probably the reason he had gone back to his quiet, brooding corner.

“Tell me.”

The look on Wren’s face was pained, like it was taking every bit of her restraint to keep it in.

“Don’t do this shit. It’s not my business to tell.

” They moved up, and the nosy prick glanced back at them again.

“Hey, you wanna keep your gourd pointed at your own business, friend?” His face flushed red, and he jerked it back to the counter.

“Is it because of the cabin? Tell me, Wren.” The thought of her blood hurting Rhaena was crawling under her skin like a ravenous parasite, and dread trailed right behind it. Wren looked surprised by the question.

“What? No…” she grabbed her elbow and turned them away to lower her voice. “Rhaena’s fine, dude. That’s not it. She’s—she thinks she might be pregnant…‘kay?”

Holy shit…but why would Athan be so bothered by it? Unless that wasn’t it.

“What’s wrong with that? She’d be fucking adorable. And I feel like Brandon would be a doting daddy.” The other thought gave her pause. “Why…why would he not tell me about it?”

“See, that’s where I feel like I shouldn’t be passing along information. I’m not trying to get in the middle of everybody’s shit. I’ve got enough to deal with trying to navigate the murky waters with Brent.”

“But Athan knows, right?”

Wren moved them up in line and grabbed a bag of chocolate almonds from a basket beside them. “Yeah, he knows. He was there when Rhae was freaking out. He left before I had her pissing on a stick. You know he ain’t gonna stick around for that.”

“Did you?” Sarah asked, turning a mug on one of the shelves to look at the price tag.

“Yeah. She had a couple negs, but it was kinda weird. The rest were unresponsive. Even the pricey ones.” She didn’t even wait to get to the register before she tore the bag open on her almonds and popped a couple in her mouth. “Damn, these are good.”

“Jesus, you’re not craving because of a baby too, are you?”

Wren paused mid-chew and shot Sarah a look. “Bitch…” She reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of body spray, squeezing down on the top and squirting a mist around her. “Away with that bullshit. I got a morning-after pill.”

Sarah waved away the mist, choking on the scent—and Wren’s response. “Wait, wait…a morning-after pill? ” she grinned. The guy in front of them turned his entire body around at that. Wren shot her face towards him. “So, you did? ”

Her hot-headed bestie narrowed her eyes at their unwelcome companion and fixed her face into something very Wren-like and devious. “Oh, yes …I slobbed on that pickle, and he bruised my insides with his—”

“You’re unbelievably vulgar,” he dared, cutting her off. Wren only grinned.

“Aww, thanks. Next time, wear earbuds or remember what your mama taught you, dipshit.”