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Dark.
Moody.
The walls themselves were painted a forest green so deep that it was almost black. The artwork over the long sectional that seemed to match the one in her office were in big, gold frames, and were prints of what looked like haunted houses, old, dilapidated insane asylums, somber looking women in gowns, and flower arrangements.
There were french doors out onto a balcony overlooking the water, and a small dining table that seemed unused, as it was covered in unopened delivery boxes.
To the other side of the sprawling common space was the kitchen.
I imagine, when she moved in, the thing had been all white. That was what was trendy in places like that.
But it didn’t suit Rynn.
It didn’t matter that she didn’t cook.
She still wanted it to match her personal preferences.
The cabinets themselves were a another shade so dark that it was almost black, but this time it was an umber brown. There were gold cabinet pulls, exposed upper cabinets showing off a dark collection of dinnerware, and a shiny, dark green tile backsplash. The countertops were a deep gray color.
On the center of the island was a pitcher full of black roses that were quickly wilting, a few petals scattered around the counter.
I put her drink and popcorn down on that island as I moved toward the hallway, my pulse quickening now that I knew that whatever had gone down had involved bloodshed.
Hers.
I had no idea how it happened.
But if a person was involved in that bleeding? Yeah, they were going to fucking pay for it.
My blood was pounding in my ears, making it impossible to hear anything over it as I moved down the hall, passing an empty bedroom, save for several cat trees and some intricate system on the walls for the cats to use as a jungle gym.
One of said cats, another black one, was lying upside down on one of the tree stands, batting lazily at a mouse-shaped toy above her head.
The other cat was missing.
I couldn’t help but wonder if it was like Binx, lying in wait, ready to scratch a chunk of me out.
There was a half bath next.
Then, finally, the primary bedroom.
The door was mostly closed, but I pushed it open.
This room, this was all darkness.
Blackness.
Black being the only color in the space. The walls, the furniture, the big headboard, the chandelier over the bed, the bedding itself.
The only spot of light in the room was a pale shoulder sticking out of the covers.
I froze, watching her for a second, my own breath caught in my chest until I saw her body moving slowly, but steadily, in her sleep.
Asleep.
Not dead.
Not so terribly injured that she was on the brink of death.
