Page 263 of Psycho Beasts
“Quinque,” Molly said, her voice cracking like she regretted the words the minute they left her lips.
It hit me.
A flyer had said to speak the Latin number of the street, Fifth Street, and the High Court would appear.
Slowly, the pieces fell together.
A scarred woman kidnapped the fae queen and is wanted.
I glanced down at the low scoop neck of my dress, felt cold air kissing my skin from the open back.
My scars were stark and hideous against my golden skin.
An inappropriate chuckle bubbled in my throat. Was this why villains laughed maniacally?
I got it.
Because somehow, I was back where I’d started, covered in scars.
The enchanted ring that had disguised them lay on my severed finger on the floor.
They played me.
There was a loud bang as two figures appeared before us in a cloud of smoke, their silhouettes concealed by the rolling fog.
The music stopped.
Z smiled at Molly in anticipation, and she mouthed “sorry” at me while simultaneously looking at Z like he hung the moon, like they were deeply in love and this was a grand romantic gesture.
They’d been playing me all along.
More inappropriate laughter bubbled in my throat.
My finger lay on the ground.
It mocked me.
It didn’t escape my notice that I stood alone, far apart from everyone else in the room.
The don stared coldly down from the dais.
Across the floor there was a loud hiss, a deep roar, and screamed expletives. My men and the girls were surrounded in a circle by Mafia members pointing guns at them. Z had planned it all out.
I would face this alone.
The fog cleared.
For a long second, shock settled through my bones, and my brain refused to process what it was seeing.
My neurons screamed at me that there had been an error, that it wasn’t real.
It couldn’t be.
Adrenaline and shock had pulsed through me so many times in the last twenty-four hours that there was nothing left for my body to give.
No emotion left to feel.
For the first time in my life, without having to flip a mental switch, I was numb.