Page 93 of Villains Never Die

“You never follow the rules.”

“Lucky for you I don’t.”

I leaned forward on my elbows, bringing my face nearer to his, and whispered, “Very lucky for me.”

All serious business gave way to laughter and playful banter, which only increased as Rook drank twice as much as I did, and everything loosened between us. For the first time since Gray died, lightness expanded in my chest, a floating sensation that coaxed genuine smiles and delight at Rook’s well-timed jokes. Even the ones at my expense.

We left the bar well past dinnertime, me taking Rook’s weight as he stumbled slightly and laughed fully from his stomach.

“I needed this,” I said as I stepped back into the cold air.

“I know. I always know what you need.”

I wrapped my hand around his wrist, hauled him into the shadows of an alley, and smashed my mouth into his so hard our teeth collided.

He tipped his head back and groaned as I dragged my lips and teeth down the side of his neck, dipped my head to taste his collarbone, and clenched my fingers in the fabric of his shirt. I wrenched it from the waistband of his pants.

“Fuck. Not here,” he said with effort. “I’m not fucking you in an alley in the cold.”

I didn’t stop. I slid my hand under his shirt, to one shoulder, then scraped my nails over one tight nipple, dragging another succulent noise from his throat.

“Fuck, it’s…hard to…think with all the blood rushing to my dick. I—”

“Penthouse.” I pulled my hand away as he nodded.

This time I took his hand, gripping his fingers between mine. He didn’t care, or was too drunk to protest. I dragged him up several streets to the darkened area where I’d parked my car and released him as I circled to the driver’s side. My keys jingled in my hand.

He grunted and stumbled into the passenger side door.

“Are you so intoxicated you need me to buckle you in, too?” I laughed.

“No, there’s something—hold on.” His own keys rattled and a tiny flashlight attached to the ring flicked on. “Oh shit.”

I circled back around the car and noticed first that Rook seemed suddenly sobered. Balanced. Eyes focused.

Then the body on the ground. Handless arms bent at strange angles. Blood smeared across his face where his tongue had been severed crudely from his mouth. His golden hair was disheveled over his eyes.

Someone had dumped Wesley Lake’s body beside my vehicle.

Chapter Thirty-Four

“We have to go.”

“Wait.” I took the flashlight from his hand and shone it over the body.

“Austin, we have to go now.” He tugged on the sleeve of my jacket, but I refused to budge.

“The message,” I said, holding up a hand to tell him to wait as I searched. The small piece of parchment was tucked into the band of Wesley’s belt, the words slightly smudged. I crouched down to read it without touching it.

Be Broken

I read it aloud and Rook shook his head. “Take a picture and let’s get the fuck out of here. If someone from the Council catches you here with the body, it looks really fucking bad.”

I beamed the flashlight on it to produce enough light for a clear photo and handed it back to Rook.

“Wait,” he said, lifting the light toward the passenger window. “Shit.”

A second message was scrawled across the window in messy, dripping spray paint, stark white against the window’s tint.