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The little white cat butted her head against my leg until I picked her up. I rubbed her behind her ears, half-expecting her to bite my hand. Instead, she settled deeper into my arms, a purr vibrating her small body.
I glanced up at the garden’s high stone walls. “Where’d you come from, anyway?”
“Meow.” She slanted me an inscrutable look through her yellow eyes.
Still holding her, I stepped over the threshold—and into a fairytale. Vines flowed down the weathered walls, and fruit trees raised their branches among potted herbs and other greenery. Butterflies flitted from flower to flower, and in a pint-sized apple tree a fat sparrow was singing its heart out. From somewhere nearby came the tranquil sound of a waterfall.
“It’s like a freaking Disney movie,” I muttered to Demon.
She flicked her black ear, which I took for agreement.
“For vampires,” I added, because it was a moon garden, with silvery green foliage, and pale blue, lavender, pink and white flowers seeded throughout the fruit trees and herbs.
A secret garden—or almost—because there was another entrance catty-corner to mine. Another French door, reinforced with silver, the glass too dark to see through. There was also a narrow wood door to my right that I assumed was used by the gardeners.
No cams—that I could see, anyway.
Demon wriggled out of my arms and trotted down a flagstone path, and I followed. A narrow, man-made stream meandered through the garden’s center, ending in a low waterfall that spilled into a pool stocked with koi. They swam unhurriedly back and forth among waxy pink lotuses, trailing their fins and tails behind them like colorful gold, yellow and black scarves.
I helped myself to an apple from one of the trees and sat on a cast-iron bench to eat it. Demon stalked past me to the pool’s edge to stare, tail twitching, at the fish, who regally ignored her.
My fingers tightened around the apple. Kuro had sent me on a suicide mission.
Even if I could bring myself to stake Brien, there was no way off this island without the Maritime Syndicate’s permission.
And if Brien knew I was a slayer, then the GQ twins did, too. Slay Brien, and I’d be their chief suspect.
I set the half-eaten apple on the bench.
You have a little time. Kuro won’t expect immediate results.
For one thing, I had to get my hands on a weapon. Right now, no one in the castle was going to let me near anything silver, even a butter knife.
And just as important, I needed to come up with a plan for escaping this godforsaken island after I’d staked Brien.
Assuming I could bring myself to stake him in the first place.
I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes.
Why couldn’t SI just leave me alone? I wasn’t a threat to them. Yeah, I knew things, but I was a low-level operative. I couldn’t name more than a few other slayers, and even those I knew by code names or aliases. Just as no one knew my real name, the one I’d been born with. I hadn’t told even my friend Ridley, aka Princess Renata.
On our last op, Ridley and I had been forced into the middle of a vendetta between two syndicates. At the time I’d blamed Crow. She was a fanatic, consumed by her deep hatred of vampires. She didn’t give a fuck about collateral damage as long as she could hurt the syndicates.
But Crow was dead—and if Kuro actually was speaking for the BOD, then nothing had changed.
I moaned lowly and put a hand to my stomach. It felt like I was being ripped in two, with one half reminding me that I was a slayer, that I’d sworn an oath, damn it.
Meanwhile, the other half argued,But it’s Brien.
Invisible walls closed in on me. An acid fury at Kuro burned in my chest. He’d boxed me into a cell as dark and confining as anything at training camp.
Jumping to my feet, I headed back inside. I had to move around, take a walk or something.
I changed into a T-shirt and cropped jeans and was lacing up the new high-tops when a woman in a royal-blue Maritime Syndicate uniform arrived with my lunch. I’d lost my appetite, but I made myself eat a few bites of everything.
A touch of my finger to the biorec pad, and the door unlocked.
In the hall, a guard with freckles and spiked strawberry-blond hair straightened from the wall. “Good afternoon, miss.”
