Requiem of the Soul (The Society Trilogy 1)

I have to laugh at how she says it.

“I’ll talk to Jackson if you like, and he can talk to your husband, and then maybe you can come over for a visit.”

“I’d really like that.” Again, I have to wipe away tears. How pathetic is your life when a stranger’s kindness makes you cry? And how much more pathetic that two grown women need to ask permission of their husbands to have a visit?

A gong goes off then and Colette gasps, looking at the diamond-encrusted watch on her delicate wrist. “Shoot! That’s dinner. We’d better go. They’ll miss us now.” She adjusts her mask and stands, a sense of urgency about her.

I stand too and put my mask to my face. She helps me to tie it.

“It really will get better.” She takes my hand and squeezes it before releasing it once we get to the door. “I promise.”

I smile and am grateful again for the mask.

“Colette, there you are,” a man says, and Colette gives my hand one more squeeze before hurrying to him.

The moment she’s gone, I hear the sound of Mercedes’s laughter coming from behind me, and I don’t bother to turn around to confirm it’s her. Instead, I hurry to find a bathroom because I’m sure Santiago is looking for me by now too, and I need a new place to hide away for a little while.

33

Santiago

Angelo removes a flask from his jacket pocket, taking a drink before he offers it to me. When I smell the smoked scotch, I help myself as well before returning it to him.

"I didn't expect your visit to last so long," I say. "Have you been here all this time?"

"No." He shakes his head. "I have been up North, gathering information. Which is what brings me to my visit. I have some accounts I'd like you to look over. I need to know who opened them. There is no one else I trust."

"You never have to ask," I assure him. "My loyalty is never in question. Provide me the details, and I will trace everything I can."

He nods stiffly. "I will deliver them to you personally before my flight leaves at sunrise."

"I take it you won't be staying for tonight's events then?"

He scans the room, shaking his head. "No. I just came here to see you."

"Very well. Then I will let you make your escape. I'll expect you in the early morning hours."

He dips his chin, returning to the fray just as quickly as he arrived, vanishing within moments. I take my leave after him, seeking out my sister and my wife. But before I can find them together, it appears Ivy has found me.

She approaches me with a feline smile, pushing me back into the darkness with a firm palm against my chest.

"What are you doing?" I demand.

Her response is to drag her fingertips up the nape of my neck to curl into my hair, grabbing a handful as she leans up on her toes to brush her lips against mine. The unexpected kiss renders me temporarily paralyzed, and she takes advantage of my shock, smearing her blood-red lipstick across my mouth as she forces her tongue between my lips.

It's aggressive. Violent. And strange.

I’m kissing her back without a thought and thinking of what else I’d like to do to her tonight. But something about her sudden change of mood makes me question her motives. It starts as a small irritation, and quickly evolves into full-blown paranoia. When I grab her by the hair and pull her away from my face to examine her, the room seems to tilt. I blink slowly, trying to comprehend what I'm seeing, but she is little more than a blur as my hand falls away from her. Everything around me appears to sway as I try to find balance, and before I realize what’s happening, I’m grasping at my chest. My heart is a hammer against my ribs as I stumble back, attempting to catch my breath. Sweat beads on my forehead, and a piercing pain stabs through my skull as I fall onto my knees, gasping for air.

I can’t breathe.

Someone screams, and then there are low murmurs as I collapse onto my back, body convulsing against the hard marble. The last conscious effort I am able to make is to force my lips apart, trying desperately to suck in air. But none comes.

My head lolls to the side, and the life begins to slip from my body with one last fleeting thought. My wife truly is a Moreno, and she just gave me the kiss of death.

34

Ivy

I spend the next ten minutes sitting on the lush velvet couch in the bathroom, listening to the sound of music and laughter and people coming from beyond the door. I know I have to get back. He’s definitely missing me by now, and I’m surprised no one is banging the door down.