I glanced at the hallway everyone had disappeared down. “Luc and I … well, we’re together, I guess. I mean, no. I don’t guess. I know.” My face was burning. “We’re totally together—”
She smacked my arm. “And you haven’t told me?”
“Ouch.” I rubbed my arm. “It just kind of happened a couple of days ago, and everything has been so crazy, I just haven’t had a chance.”
“You can always make time to tell me that you have a boyfriend, especially when that boyfriend is Luc. Geez, Evie.”
“I should’ve told you in between Heidi nearly dying and Luc getting shot,” I retorted. “Maybe work in a mani and a pedi.”
“I would’ve loved a mani and a pedi.” Her smile was wide and fast. “Seriously, though. I’m happy to hear this. You both have been through a lot to get here.”
Nodding, I toyed with the pendant in my hand as I looked down the hall. “He’s … he’s Luc.”
Zoe laughed. “That’s all you need to say for me to understand.”
I grinned. “We should probably see what they’re up to, and then I can tell you what happened.”
She agreed, so we went down the hall and through the swinging doors and into the kitchen as I put the necklace on. Wearing it after I’d used it to stab April in the head was—
We both skidded to a stop.
Lying on a prep table, underneath stainless-steel pots and pans, was April. Her skin had taken on a waxy pallor, and her forehead …
I quickly looked away from her to where Heidi and Emery stood, the former’s head cocked to the side as she stared at the dead girl.
Luc was standing with his back to the door, arms crossed, and Grayson stood at the foot of the table, face impassive.
It was Clyde, the tattooed and pierced bouncer, and the Luxen, Chas, that I was focused on. Clyde was dressed like a butcher from a horror movie, wearing thick gloves that reached his elbows and some kind of rubber apron that covered his overalls. A pair of small, black-rimmed glasses were perched on his nose.
“You guys weren’t joking,” I whispered, horrified and somewhat morbidly interested.
Chas handed what appeared to be a scalpel to Clyde, who said, “I’m going to do my first autopsy.”
“In the kitchen?” Kent rushed into the room, skidding to a stop. “Where I make myself fritas in the morning?”
Clyde arched a pierced brow. “Well, yeah, I mean, it’s the perfect place.”
“No,” Kent argued. “It’s the exact opposite of the perfect place.”
“It’s a clean, flat surface that offers privacy and many bowls,” Clyde responded.
“I do not want to know what you plan to put in the bowls I use for my salad and cereal!” Kent exclaimed, and I had to agree with him.
“Why are we doing an autopsy?” Emery asked, looking a little pale around the mouth. “I mean, is it really going to tell us what she is?”
Luc shrugged as he slowly shook his head.
“I want to see what her insides look like,” Clyde responded calmly.
My eyes peeled wide. “I’m pretty sure that’s the first statement every serial killer makes when caught.”
Clyde gave me a toothy grin.
All righty then.
“In another life, Clyde was a doctor.” Luc looked at me over his shoulder. “He’s actually pretty skilled at all things cutting and slicing.”
That last statement wasn’t particularly reassuring.
“When Luxen and Arum die, they revert back to their true forms. Both look like … shells. Their skin becomes translucent; one is light, the other is dark.” Luc tilted his head to the side. “Hybrids look like humans when they die. The same for Origins. We already know that she’s none of these things.”
I held my breath.
“But we do know that whatever she is, in death, it is not like an Origin or a hybrid,” Luc continued as he gestured at Clyde.
“Her body is still rather warm,” Clyde explained, and I was going to have to take his word on that. With a gloved hand, he lifted her limp arm. “See these marks, looks like bruises? That’s blood pooling. It’s too soon for that to be this noticeable. Usually takes a couple of hours.” He laid her arm back down and then lifted her sweater, revealing about an inch of her stomach. There were blackish-blue pools there, too. “That’s not all.”
Heidi swallowed thickly and squeaked, “It’s not?”
“No.” Clyde pulled the hem of her sweater back down. “She’s … disintegrating.”
“What?” I said.
“Her skin is beginning to flake off and turn to what reminds me of ash or dust.” He lifted his hand and turned it over so it was palm up. There was a dusting of something pinkish white on the gloved fingertips. It looked like powder. “She appears to be rapidly decomposing.”
“Plus her blood is different,” Grayson said. “It was almost black with a tint of blue. Looked like what Sarah vomited up and what you all said Coop’s looked like.”