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I checked my phone, scrolling over the article about an alley massacre, but there was no mention of a woman or any evidence found inside the club. I balked at a paragraph that caught my eye. The club owner, Lucius Vasiliev, the owner ofBlack Mirrors,was stated to have refused any statement regarding the investigation, and a warrant for the club was now pending. This state of affairs would force the club doors shut until the situation was handled.
That icy chill ran down my spine again. So, the ghost was the owner.
I walked out the bathroom doors, mumbling on my way through the door frame. “Lucius.”
“I do love my name on a beautiful woman’s lips.”
I jumped at the intrusion. The devil himself was lazily perched on the bartop, eyeing me curiously.
Not wanting to engage, I put my hands on my hips. “I lost something. Do you know where it is?”
He hopped off the bar table and walked over to me, his smile widening into a deep chasm. His pale green eyes flickered with sardonic joy. He was close to me, his heat a vibration on my skin.
Suddenly, I felt like a mouse about to be pounced on by a cruel cat. Not for any other reason but to enjoy his own sick satisfaction of playing a game and making his prey suffer.
“Are you referring to this, Little Shadow?” he purred in his husky rasp, walking over and pulling my red dress from behind his bar, the blood stains shining in the overhead light.
I swallowed, searching his face for exactly what game he was playing.
“Or, perhaps this?”
I audibly gasped when my dagger came into sight. My dad’s intricately carved crown reflected light on this beautiful monster’s face.
“The police wanted these so badly,” he continued, frowning and weighing my dagger in his hand, gently twirling the sharp blade expertly through his fingers. “But alas, I don’t like to give up my treasures.”
I grimaced at him.
“Those aren’t yours,” I argued, stepping closer but keeping my body stance toward the exit door. “They are mine.”
“Finders keepers and all that.” He tsked at me, shaking his head and letting those inky black waves fall into his eyes. “You’d think a pretty princess would be more careful with her toys, no?”
I narrowed my eyes, advancing slowly. He chuckled, his shoulders rising with a smug expression playing on his features.
“You should take care of what’s yours.” I ignored him, but he continued anyway. “I guess even the best of us make mistakes.”
He twirled around the table, evading my silent advances.
“Isn’t that right?” Pausing, he captured my face in his hands and purred near my ear. “Snow White.”
* * *
I stopped, not even to breathe, as I turned my head to stare at him in stunned silence. How did he know I was the serial killer? Did he see me kill those men? No, he didn’t, and I hadn’t used my usual MO. I was careful to make it appear as a self-defense kill. He had to know about my identity some other way.
He chuckled at me again, surely watching the gears turn in my head. He twirled the dagger so intricately and expertly in his hands that the sliced prostitute in the tunnel by my home clouded my mind. The jagged cut had the identical shape of my blade.
“Look, Little Shadow, I don’t need sharp objects in my possession, so I’m willing to make you a deal.”
I stiffened, standing in place. He practically danced on his toes as he yawned and straightened his white tie.
Growing annoyed, I took the bait. “What?”
He smiled wider now, walking back to the bar’s table, gesturing for me to sit across from him on what looked like a couch. His reflection bounced in the mirrors with each step he took. I watched his movements as I walked down the aisle and sat at the place facing him on a pristinely white sofa.
“You can have your precious dagger back.” He started dancing toward me. “But not before I watch you use it.”
I grinned now, happy to slice this fool into ribbons.
“On your sweet little cunt…” He licked the handle and then used it to edge up the hem of my dress.
