Killing (And Other Games)

(Twenty Two)

(Twenty Two)

Trying to keep things normal and linear, I insist on going to university and going down to the Underworld in the evening. At Uni I get a few raised eyebrows, a few comments from the people I've spoken to before, but no one has the guts to ask why I'm looking so shitty. I hear a few people whispering 'drugs' and 'ferrari' and I can't help but laugh. They think I'm part of some drug cartel. Sad thing is, that's probably a more acceptable explanation.

At seven o'clock, I go down to the Underworld with my knife hidden in my jacket. I'm weary of Charlie still lurking around so my hand stays firmly wrapped around the decorated iron of the weapon. I look like a freak; hobbling through the wizard plaza with my hand shoved into my jacket. I fit right in.

"Where are we going today?" I don't even bother looking surprised when I hear Gray come up, swaggering to a stop in front of me. It's almost sweet to see his expression change from arrogant to horrified. "Did Zane do this to you?"

"No, as much as you'd revel in that, no. It was Charlie."

Gray examines the injury with his eyes, his gaze cool and clinical. "Come sit over here." He takes a seat at an "outdoor" cafe and pats the chair next to him. I drag myself over and plonk down.

"Hold your hand out," he instructs and I give him a questioning look. He insists and I sigh, not bothering to cause the fuss. It's like the fight has been shoved down the stairs out of me. "It'll only hurt for a second," he chuckles and his squeezes my hand, sending a jolt of, what feels like, electricity through me.

A tingling feeling rushes to my head and where the wounds are the skin suddenly feels tight. For a moment it hurts but a feeling of relief washes over me as the pain is replaced by a warm glow. It's almost...pleasurable, the feeling. A shiver runs up my spine, spreading a smile across my face, as Gray squeezes my hand again and releases. I suddenly feel awake and energetic, my eyelids lifting and my whole body lightening.

"Did you fix it all?" I gasp, peering at myself in the reflective glass of a shop window. I don't look injured anymore. I feel great.

"You should always come to a Guide when you're I injured. But I can understand why Darwood wouldn't bring you to me; he's too embarrassed that he can't do anything about you being hurt."

"I'll remember this for next time."

"Next time?" Gray questions, the corners of his mouth lifting. "You're hanging out with the wrong people if you know there's going to be a next time."

"There's always a next time," I mutter as we stand up from the table. "Since you so persistently need to harass me, you can come with me to meet this guy and you can stay with me the whole time. Got it?"

"What's his name?"

"Wentworth Francis Luna--possibly the most pretentious name I've heard after yours."

Gray just accepts that remark with a shrug. "He's a werewolf, a full blood. Do you know where he lives?"

"I do actually. He lives in some gated community, apparently."

"Oh, how threatening," Gray mocks. "What did he do?"

"Started a fight just when Sloane was getting murdered. Hey, aren't werewolves supposed to be loyal? Is it even possible this guy had anything to do with another werewolf's death?"

"Sure," Gray says, putting his hands in the pockets of his black jacket. "If he got paid enough."

I tell Gray the name of the gated community and he seems pissed off by it. Leading me out of the wizard plaza, we come out into a huge intersection with thousands of doors in a huge circle. It's kind of like Grand Central Station.