ps. You’re super weird.
He didn’t know the half of it.
I was just glad he was alive and okay. Well, okay enough to tell me to fuck off. That had to mean he was alright, didn’t it?
The charm Acheron gave me to sneak into Wilder’s home warmed against the skin on my chest. That was odd. Was it supposed to do that?
I quickly dialled the charmer, and he answered on the first ring.
“Have you killed him already, sugar?”
“What? Who?”
“Wilder, obviously. I want to know if the prick is gone for good.”
Anger welled up inside me at Acheron’s dismissive tone. “No, he’s still alive.”
“That’s a shame,” he sighed and I could just imagine him looking at his perfectly manicured nails. “What’s the call for? Not like you to call me.”
I buried the sudden hot burst of anger and managed to grit out, “The charm is getting hot. Why?”
“The one I gave you?”
“No, the one I got from Jesus last week. Of course, the one you gave me,” I snapped.
“Jeez, what bee is in your bonnet?”
“You. Now tell me about the damn charm.”
“It’s not just a breaking and entering charm, it’s also got a built-in warning for if someone is coming with ill intent. You should probably get out of there, unless you feel like killing someone. Although, I am surprised that Wilder has someone else trying to get into his house. That does seem—”
I hung up, cutting Acheron off mid-flow. I wasn’t in the mood to listen to that tirade of shit. Not if I was about to meet someone who wanted to harm my Wilder.
I jogged quietly down the stairs and looked through the window in the living room. The music still played, that intense voice settling somewhere deep in my soul and lingering like a shadow. I could understand why Wilder liked it. It was dark and aggressive with moments of vulnerability. It reminded me of Wilder himself.
I left the music playing as I searched through the window. Wilder’s place was on the outskirts of the city but there were afew shop fronts on the opposite side, including his favourite café. It looked like any normal street.
Except for the man stood across the road, blatantly looking at the house.
He was older, maybe in his mid-forties, with salt and pepper hair and a scowl that would rival Wilder’s. The man looked angry as he stared at the house, and I didn’t like it. My senses immediately went on high alert as he crossed the road. I pulled my butterfly knife out of the sheath on my hip and snuck out the back.
There was a little alley between Wilder’s house and the next. He lived in an old terrace house but in one of the middle ones. The alley was there so he could access the back garden, and if I were a normal person about to break in, I’d try the back door first. Fewer witnesses back here.
I waited against the wall next to the alley and slowed my breathing. I melted into the shadows and waited until the man stepped into view.
This was my favourite bit. The moment just before the attack. Adrenaline buzzed under my skin and excitement curled in my gut. I didn’t feel many emotions, butthis, this intense excitement, was enough to get me off.
My hand squeezed the handle of my knife as the scent of the intruder came past me on the chilly breeze. It was sweet and sickly, like candy apples. I scrunched up my nose. I hated candy apples.
The sound of his steps reverberated softly, like he was trying to hide his presence. That wasn’t going to help him.
I waited until he’d walked a little way past me—stupid man. Only a fool didn’t check the blind spots. A fool or someone powerful enough to feel confident.
He stepped further into the garden and then I lunged, using the wall behind me as leverage to leap towards him and catch him by surprise.
I slammed into his back and he fell forwards, catching himself on the ground and twisting onto his back before I could sit on him. His green eyes sparked with lightning. Ah, so not a human. Great.
A bright green lightning bolt shot towards me, and I swerved out of the way. It hit the brick wall behind me, fizzing and exploding with a bang.