“Cup, free.”
She gives me a long stare before wandering into the living room.
I strip the sheets, toss them in the washer, and turn on my ventilation system. I don’t have any windows, so this is as close as it gets to airing out my space. I light a few candles and bounce on my feet.
Stretch my neck.
Imagine the smell of blood.
Fuck. I really need to kill someone.
I find my phone halfway under my bed, and before I can think too hard about it, dial.
“Silas, my friend! How’s it going today?” Hopper asks, his gritty New York accent a balm to my ears.
“I need to kill someone. Right now.”
“Sweet. Got someone in mind?”
“There’s a list somewhere, right?”
“I’ve got at least three kills planned at all times,” he says conversationally. “I just need to find a babysitter for Bailey, and I’ll be right over.”
“Shit. I didn’t mean to ruin your plans.”
“You didn’t ruin any plans. In fact, I bet if I send out a group text to the Wildlings, someone will want to hang out with her.”
“True. And I happen to know Rami is in the building. He’ll jump at the chance to watch Miss Bailey.”
“Now that’s what I call one-stop shopping,” he cracks.
I can practically see him bouncing on his toes, excited.
I slide into the passenger seat and shut the door.
“Oh my God, that was so satisfying,” Hopper says, grinning broadly.
I send him a weak smile. “It definitely took the edge off.”
My heart still hurts though.
Hopper narrows his eyes. “Okay,spill. You’ve had this hangdog expression all afternoon. I even let you wrap that man’s guts around his own neck while he was still screaming. Do you know what a nightmare that is to clean up?”
I eyeball his ash rifle in the back.
“Whatever.” Hopper rolls his eyes. “Yeah, it’s easier now, but in the past, you should know it was a nightmare to clean up.”
“Thanks. It did help to make someone scream.” I lift a shoulder. “And it kinda verifies…everything.”
“Everything? Wow. Didn’t realize so much was riding on this one murder.”
I flip him the bird. “Shutup.”
“Fine. I’ll shut up. But you know I’m going to keep poking at you until you tell me what’s wrong.”
He pushes his finger into my shoulder. “Poke. Poke.”
I glare at him.
