Tossing the bottle aside, watching as it lands clear on the other side of the room, well out of reach, I pounce on her. Descending so sure and so fast she doesn’t see it coming until it’s way too late to react.
Throwing her down to the carpet as my fingers eagerly circle her neck. Wriggling through the tangle of necklaces, immediately noticing how her amulet is still gone.
But despite the fact that her face is turning blue, despite the fact that I’m slowly cutting off her air supply, she just laughs. The motion of it pushing her throat hard against the palm of my hand, as she emits a sound so gruesome, so awful, I’m tempted to kill her just to put an end to it.
But I can’t act rashly. Can’t afford to do anything of the sort. Not until I get what I want, and if the price is a few bottles of elixir, then so be it.
“Give me the fugging elixir!” she screams, the second I loosen my hold. Her body thrashing under mine, moving frantically, violently, thrusting from side to side, as she scratches and claws with sharp, pointy, blue nails.
Lashing out like a rabid animal.
Like a junkie gone too long without a fix.
Scrambling across the floor the moment I lift myself off, grasping the bottle, popping the top, and shoving it against her lips so hard and fast her front teeth break off from the force.
But she doesn’t miss a beat. Doesn’t pay it any notice at all. She just continues to gulp and glug, draining it so quickly it’s just a matter of seconds before it’s completely emptied, and she’s tossed it aside. A hint of color returning to her cheeks, though her teeth still haven’t re-formed—not that she seems to notice or care. She just looks straight at me, licking her lips, as she says, “More. And make it the good stuff this time. The stuff you stole. Your juice tastes like crap.”
“Didn’t seem to stop you.” I shrug, having no intention of handing over anything more until I get what I want. “You can have my entire supply for all I care. I’m not addicted, like you.” I slowly look her over, leaving no doubt just how troubled I am by the view. “But just so you know, I didn’t steal your elixir. Misa and Marco did.” I study her face, noting the way it changes, transforms, as she stops and considers my words, calculates the possibility of them actually holding even a smidgen of truth.
“And you know this because…?” She quirks her brow and places a hand on each hip, as she cocks her head to the side.
I meet her gaze, knowing I have to say something quickly, though not quite sure what that is. If I tell her I was there, that I saw it, then she’ll know I was looking for something else, some
thing she might not yet recognize the significance of. So, instead, I just shrug, forcing my voice, my entire demeanor to stay cool, calm, and collected when I say, “Because I didn’t steal it. And because Damen didn’t steal it either. And because that is hardly the reason why I survived your attack. And because it only makes sense, if you’ll stop long enough to think about it.”
She looks at me and frowns. And that’s all I need to see to know she’s not buying it. That she’s still convinced it was me.
“Or—or maybe it was Rafe?” I say, having temporarily forgotten about him. “I mean, when was the last time you even saw him anyway?”
But when I look at her again, it’s clear it’s not working. Even though everything I just said makes sense, it’s not quite getting me where I want to go, need to go, and thanks to the elixir she drank, she’s now just alert enough to realize it.
She smooths her heavily jeweled fingers over the front of her dress, plucks some stray carpet lint from her sleeve. “Not a problem,” she says. “I’ll deal with them. But in the meantime, since I’m here and all, what do you say you just give me the rest of your supply?”
thirty-five
Just as she’s leaving, clutching a single bottle of elixir tightly to her chest, Sabine marches through the side door.
Juggling her briefcase in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other, she stops, does a quick double take, and says, “Haven? I haven’t seen you in…ages. You’re looking…” Sabine pauses, brow slanted as she slowly looks her over. And even though Haven’s in much better shape than she was when she arrived, she’s still a long way from being anywhere even close to presentable. And for those not used to seeing her new look—well, she’s downright scary.
But Haven just laughs, shooting Sabine a friendly, broken-toothed smile when she says, “No worries. Trust me, my mom’s not crazy about it either. Which, by the way, is just one of the many reasons I’m divorcing her.”
Sabine glances between us, clearly confused by the statement.
But Haven’s quick to fill in the blanks. “I’m divorcing all of them actually, both my parents and my little brother. I’d divorce the housekeeper too if I could.” She laughs, the sound so unnatural, so disturbing, it instantly sets Sabine on edge. “Anyway, long story short, I moved out. I’m in the middle of getting emancipated so I don’t have to deal with their crap anymore.”
Sabine frowns, eyes narrowed in a look I’ve come to know all too well, a look that clearly signals her outraged disapproval.
But Haven’s immune to all that. If anything, it only seems to egg her on even further. Causing her to smile that much brighter when she says, “They just refused to accept me as I am, so, I just packed up my stuff and said—adios!”
Sabine glances between us, probably wondering if I’m somehow playing a role in this, if I fed Haven the lines, told her just what to say and when. But even though the words clearly apply to the way Sabine’s been treating me, I had nothing to do with it. Haven’s a one-woman show.
“Well, I’m sure they miss you very much.” Sabine nods, reverting to her courtroom litigator’s tone.
But Haven’s not playing that game, the one where everyone acts all polite and politically correct and pretends that what was just said really wasn’t, and that everything will work out in the end despite a load of evidence piling up against it.
She’s also way past playing the parent and/or guardian game where you work overtime trying to put your best manners on display, so your friends’ parents will like you, trust you, and invite you to come back again.
Because Haven and I aren’t friends.