A move he follows with a different unrestrained hunger.
“Two minutes, Gabriella.”
“Two minutes?” I ask, feigning an ignorance that makes him flash those sharp fangs at me. He’s yet to turn me at my request; my sister and I are bound by loyalty to our people after the death of our parents, but the time to crown a new ruler has come and our baby brother is now of age. He’ll be fair. He’ll do right by the throne while my sister and I follow two different paths.
One with a werewolf.
One with a vampire.
“Run, pretty girl.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” I taunt, leaning over to nip his jaw. “Now close your eyes and count to sixty. Come find me if you can.”
“Are you challenging your king?”
“Always, love. Always.”
33
Gabriella
I wake up panicked, a scream caught in my throat while a bit disoriented. There’s someone pounding on both the front door and back, multiple voices yelling, and then the wood splinters as they’re kicked open.
“What the fuck?” As I say this, my home becomes crowded by officers aiming their guns at my head, shouting orders that I don’t understand. It all feels like gibberish, like a Peanuts cartoon until I’m yanked up and thrown to the ground by a man twice my weight and pinned, hands pulled behind my back at an awkward angle.
It hurts. My head is fuzzy.
I’m lost between that dream, how real it felt compared to this, and I can’t make heads or tails of anything. Was that real and this is the dream? Why am I being arrested?
“Get off me,” I manage to squeak after a minute, lifting my head enough to take in the scene around me. They are trashing my house. The pictures on the walls are being torn down while the furniture is kicked over by a man and woman who I’m starting to loathe.
Her I don’t know, but Consuelos has become a familiar face.
“What are you doing to my house, Detective?” My voice rings out clear through the chaos, and all movements cease. “What right do you have to do this?”
Consuelos stops what he’s doing and walks over, pausing two steps from me. “You’re under investigation for the disappearance of Elise Scott, Miss Moore. We are placing you under—”
“Where’s the signed warrant from a judge?” I interrupt, knowing my rights. This is the third attempt to trample on them. “Why haven’t my rights been read, or the paperwork shown?”
“People like you don’t get those privileges.” The woman sneers, and it's then I notice she’s out of uniform, dressed all in black and the name Diana is spelled across the small breast pocket of her cotton shirt. “She told you to back off.”
“She who?”
“We have some blood on a tree near the back of the lot!” someone shouts from the kitchen area, prompting another two men to exit in a rush. No one speaks for a few minutes, but the tensions mount between those left inside. I’m left with Diana, Consuelos, and the man pinning me down. “I need someone to call in the forensics team.”
Nobody takes out their phones, though. Instead, the two standing look down at me with condescending smirks on their faces. “So where did you hide the body?” Diana starts the questioning, squatting down to where I’m being held, my body crushed against the floor. “Do you hate your best friend so much to have killed her? You stole her husband, and now this?”
“What body? What husband?”
“Theodore Astor has been married to her…”
I drown out the rest. That makes no sense.
It has to be a lie. I asked him, and he told me he wasn’t.
That I was all he wanted.
“That’s a lie.”
“Is it?” Diana pulls something out of her back pocket, a folded note with some writing on it that looks too new to be real. “Here’s their marriage certificate. Believe me now?”
The paper in question is dropped right in front of my face. Moreover, it’s a marriage license, dated and stamped by the courts ten years ago, and yet, the ink is dark blue, something that no government agency uses. It’s all black. End of. Second, what stands out is Elise's signature, yet Theo’s is off.
That’s not the one I saw in my contract.
“So they're married?” I ask, my voice low and sad. I’ll play along until I manage to get Theo on the phone. “Why didn’t she tell me? Where is she?”
“Why don’t you tell us? Is that her blood on the tree?” Consuelos looks around nervously, meeting Diana’s gaze before shifting to the man on the ground and nodding. “Stop resisting, Gabriella! We only want to help you.”
“Hands where we can see them. Hands where we can see them!” This came from Diana, and dread fills my chest. Lord, please help me. Something is very wrong here.
“I’m not resisting—” Pain explodes behind my eyes, the side of my skull feeling as though they’ve cracked it, and the last thing I remember as I’m thrown over a man’s shoulder and rushed into the back of a dark green car is the white snake.
It’s coiled along the large tree in my front yard, watching while the door is closed and my eyes roll back. And yet, I manage to open them once more and meet its eyes, milky blue and unafraid, and right before something is pressed to my nose and mouth, it nods.
My body aches when I come to. My head feels as though it’s been split open by a jackhammer, and yet it’s the least of my problems. I don’t know where I am or why, but I’m inside of an all-white room with padded walls and a single window up high. Out of reach.
It’s there to let me know the sky is dark out, and it’s a rainy night at that.
The water pelts against
