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“I’m…” she gasped, her shaking was uncontrollable, adding to the friction and heady feel of her. “Yours.”
Hearing those words—it did something to me, but what? I didn’t know. A piece of me felt like it was cracking. I was a mirror that was sure to break. The thing was, I didn’t know how to fix it, how to glue it back together.
After taking a bite of her—my glistening apple—I knew I would never be the same.
Snow White, indeed.
This dangerous woman had put a spell on me, and now, I was hers.
Acouple of days later, I received an anonymous note. The address on the note led Quinn and me to an abandoned warehouse. Sure enough, the stench of decaying rot and the swarms of flies told the tale of many animals that lost their lives here.
Judging by the skulls and hunks of humanoid-shaped rib cages littering the lines of the hallway, I had a feeling a different kind of animal was often brought here to be killed.
Humans.
The squelching sound under my boots made me gag. The Butcher could clean up his fucking mess. Geez.
Micah Quinn was always a diligent soldier. He always followed every order, had a kind smile when needed, or he was a ruthless man to deliver justice. Right now, though, facing these current circumstances, I’d laugh my ass off at his face. His Armani shirt was tucked over his nose, and his blue eyes were watering.
“It looks like whoever was here has cleared out,” he said, a nasal tone to his voice. He was clearly holding his breath.
I inspected everything around me.
The boarded-up, broken windows and disgusting blood-soaked floor added to the awful ambiance. All of it just lay on the top. The epoxy finish was desperately trying to separate the death and rot from its beautiful shine.
It made it look like water, a reddish, black water.
The warehouse was corroded at the very base of the structure. The whole place had a slight tilt to it. Therefore, the red river pooled mostly down at the edge and dripped out of a busted window.
I shined my flashlight over to a boxed-in area. Cages, no bigger than a suitcase, were stacked neatly, row upon row.
Had they kept the animals here?
My question was quickly answered, and my heart sank as I approached the next corner. Naked, dismembered bodies lay haphazardly at the crook of the corner. Not giving a damn, I dove into the bodies. My heart was thundering so loud in my ears that it was like a bomb went off. There was just a buzz and whoosh of my blood pumping too fast throughout my body.
I could vaguely feel Quinn. His voice was a hazy mumble. All I could see were bodies. Heads were at different levels of decomposition. There were hair colors of all types: reds, blondes, blacks, and even neon colors. Textures were harder to depict. The matting of blood, what looked like oil, and a sticky clear liquid connected the hair on the severed heads together.
I couldn’t see past my tears, my eyes blind as they tried to find their own reflection.
So many white, void, lifeless eyes stared back at me, and their spirits were like an icy hand on my body.
I felt them pulling, felt their bruising grip as they pulled me back.
Wait no. The hands wrapped around my chest weren’t feminine and weren’t trying to hurt me. I blinked. The feeling in my throat was a raspy, raw burn. Slowly, the watery buzz lifted from my ears, and Quinn’s cries finally penetrated my consciousness.
“Ella,” he yelled, taking hold of my face gently. His warm hands stroked my cheek. “Ella, come back. We don’t know anything yet. Don’t lose faith.”
Faith never got me anything. I got myself here, not the Almighty God.
Me.
All that puppet master did was laugh at my misery.
“Please, sweetheart,” Quinn continued, laying my numb body against his chest, our bodies soaked in the despair around us.
Cassie. My beautiful, naive sister. How could she be….
At the sound of a rattling cage, I felt my body snap back to reality, my limbs finally moveable, unfrozen. I jolted up, running toward the sound. My criminal analysis training was gone. Quinn shouted after me as I raced up a pair of corroded, cracking steps—each one groaning at my weight.
