Scryer by West Sinden

Author:West, Sinden [West, Sinden]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-04-13T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

I checked my phone for the tenth time and still there was nothing from Danilo. The pizza parlor was getting busy, and evil looks were being directed at me for taking up a table. Eventually, I sighed and threw my phone back in my bag as I stood. The table was immediately swooped upon by a bunch of impatient teenagers.

I tried calling him one more time once I made it outside, but again there was no answer. I was getting pissed now. There was nothing worse than being stood up. It was a shame I couldn’t predict my own future to prevent things like this happening.

Unhappily I stomped up the street, heading for Danilo’s apartment. He was probably in bed with that Ellen girl and hadn’t given me a second thought. But as I turned the corner, the flare of police and ambulance lights greeted me, and all anger within me died.

Maybe it was his father’s liver finally giving out. Maybe Ellen had an asthma attack, or maybe they weren’t even there for Danilo. Maybe it was for someone else…

A cop prevented me from entering and I sucked in a breath, ready to give my best argument. Before I could though, an authoritative voice said, “Let her through.”

I stiffened and twisted my head.

“After you, Ivy.” Lake gestured with his hand for me to go forward and everything in me died at that second. There was no doubt now—something bad had happened to Danilo.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered.

He looked at me with hard eyes. “You know.”

Hugging my bag to my chest, I turned as if defeated and moved past the policeman guarding the entranceway, my feet automatically taking me to the stairs and propelling me up each one even as my mind screamed at me that I didn’t want to see what was up there. Lake was close behind me, his footsteps echoing as a constant reminder of his presence.

More police crowded the hallway, but seeing Lake, they let us through with no question. The Corins owned people. It was no surprise that the police would be on their payroll. The door to the apartment was wide open, and I stepped through it silently to be confronted with the backs of several men, one of whom was Michael.

He turned and frowned as he saw me. “What’s she doing here?” he asked Lake.

“She needs to see,” came the answer.

This angered Michael. “No she doesn’t. Get her out of here…”

But I pushed past him as if he had not spoken. Bile rose in my throat, and I felt hot and cold all at once. I tried to swallow and couldn’t. Nothing about me could move. Neither my legs that were dying to remove me from this scene, nor my eyes that I desperately wanted to tear away and stare at something else, anything else.

Red.

Red.

Red.

If the carpet had ever been another color, it was indiscernible now. A small amount of the original white wax was visible on the blood-splattered candles. Just

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