Envy (Dark Waters Book 1)

Chapter Nine:

How could you abandon him like that?

Pain shot through my chest. I couldn't breathe, but I needed to; the darkness hid me as well as it could. The streetlights worked against me, brightening the city for the mortals. I needed to go and hide, and only one place called out to me.

Where are you going to go, Octavio? You're a sitting duck...

I stood across the street in front of Prima's Art Gallery. The lights were shut off on the inside. The guests were gone. From the closed curtains, I saw two shadows moving, and a part of me hoped it was Priscilla and Megan. It had to be. I would die otherwise.

You're selfish

Reaching into my pocket, I weakly pulled my phone out to call Priscilla, text her, anything. She'd given me her number to call for a reason; it may not have been this, but I was desperate. Yet, as I held my phone in my hand, the moonlight showed me the screen was shattered. Three shards hit the sidewalk. "Shit..." I whispered.

If you die, she dies. How romantic.

"Okay, Priscilla-" I looked up as the front door to the art gallery opened. Priscilla hung inside the doorway, pressed against the side of it. She smiled as Megan moved around her, a large purse hanging from her shoulder. The two touched each other's hands as they smiled at one another. Megan reached in for a hug. "Let me know what sales need to go out soon and if anything needs to go into storage again."

Sighing, Priscilla hugged her back. "I'll draw up the list. They'll sell eventually."

"They will." Megan leaned back to look at Priscilla's face. "You're an amazing artist and photographer. More people will see that."

A grin lifted the corner of Priscilla's mouth. Her tongue flicked out, sitting between her teeth as she laughed. "Or they'll see wine and drinks on the flyer and then come running."

"Hey," Megan snorted, "drunk sales are still sales."

"Maybe we need stronger drinks then?" Both women turned, so I saw their faces perfectly. Eyebrows were lifted, amused. Then they laughed; hearty, wholesome laughter. The moment slipped into another hug, tighter than the last, before Megan turned to walk down the street, leaving Priscilla alone with the gallery.

It was my chance to ask for help.

Are you going to make her your shield again? Did you forget how that turned out the first time?

My phone was done. Dropping it on the ground, I lifted my leg and crushed it with my heel. The impact made me hiss and bite my tongue. Not that the Seven would use my phone to track me, they'd feel my soul throughout the Earth, but I couldn't take the chance.

"Buddy?" Priscilla's voice pulled my attention. Looking back across the street, I saw her on the sidewalk, arms folded across her chest. She smiled at first until she looked at me. Then the expression faded as she hurried over.

"Hey, hey," her hands cupped my face, thumbs caressing my cheeks, "what happened to you?"

I looked into her eyes. The bright light coming from them warmed me as if healing my wounds. I knew the feeling was mental; her gaze alone couldn't do that. But I took it. I stared for as long as she allowed.

"Shit. You're bleeding. Okay." She stepped back, pulling her hands away. Her gaze slid to my chest, widening with concern and disbelief. "Um...."

Was I bleeding? Wrath's powers had pushed through my legs and spine, but I didn't know she had broken the skin. But it did. I looked down at my chest to see the red dampness under my dark tee. Drops hit the sidewalk. Without a scratch for over fifty years, I'd forgotten that I could bleed like this.