Harry didn’t answer.
“I brought your sushi, and shrimp tempura because I like you.” She opened the sliding glass door to the balcony to let some warmth in, then entered her bedroom. Trading her shoes for her slippers, she shrugged on a light sweater and knocked on the bathroom door. “I gotta pee. I’m coming in.”
Eden didn’t wait for an answer. She never needed to before, and today was no different. She turned the knob and entered to find her best friend draped over the rim of the tub. Her head twisted at an unnatural angle, mouth gaping, eyes wide, glassy, blood pooling on the tile, draining from an unseen wound.
Eden froze. Stupefied, she couldn’t process the scene her eyes beheld. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
“Harry?” Her voice was small, childlike, pleading. “Harry?” She stepped forward. Then stepped back. Reached for her friend. Then snatched her hand to her chest. A scream bubbled in her throat, only to emerge as a strangled whimper.
Who did this?
Why?
Both questions circled her head as she dropped to her knees and crawled to her friend. She shouldn’t touch the body.
Body. Harry’s gone and all I have left is her body.
But she couldn’t stop herself from touching Harry’s wrist, searching in vain for a pulse. That one touch turned to Eden scooting closer. She couldn’t stop herself, even though blood seeped into her jeans and chilled her skin. She scooted next to the tub and cradled Harry’s head in her lap and stared into her blue eyes.
“What happened?” she hiccupped. “Tell me what happened and I’ll...” Not fix it because there was no way to fix this. No way to make this better. No way to heal what was irrevocably broken. “I’m sorry,” she cried. For what, Eden wasn’t sure, but she was sorry because this was her fault. It had to be. The responsibility for this tragedy, travesty, lay with her.
Darkness framed her vision and sunk sharp tendrils into her soul. Shuddering, Eden cranked her head around and faced a writhing entity on the threshold of the bathroom from her bedroom, and more behind it.
“Your concern is wasted on it when it should be focused on me.”
Slowly, she pivoted her head and faced a man on the opposite side of the bathroom. “Man” was a loose description of the being standing in the doorway to her bedroom. Skin the color of ash, a misshaped head under taut skin stretched too tightly over his skull. Hunched over, his arms were too long and tipped with black, two-inch claws. His stubby legs didn’t seem strong enough to hold his weight yet did; he seemed tall and short all at the same time. And to top it off, he wore a three-piece suit and a tie. It looked expensive, a custom fit designer ensemble on a troll.
“Did you kill her?” Eden needed to know.
“My name is Mazt.” He bowed formerly in a show of deep respect. Lots of anime helped her recognize the respect he afforded her. “Yes. I killed her. I thought she was you. The scents in this house confused me. Her scent. Your scent. Both mingled. Only after she was dead, I realized my mistake. However, one extra dead human pleases me. So, I am not sorry.”
Each word out of his mouth fueled the quiet rage building in her heart until it blazed. Gently, she eased Harry’s head off her lap and stood. She didn’t run. Caught between a rock and a hard place, there was nowhere to go. But she wouldn’t go without a fight. Regardless of how feeble the attempt, she’d die on her feet.
“You want me.” She opened her arms. “Here I am.”
He smiled, a grin worthy of a thousand nightmares, and lunged for her throat. Between blinks, Eden’s throat was caught in his clawed hand and dangling a foot above the tiles.
“Oh, my master will be pleased,” he singsonged. “And jealous since I found you before he.”
Master? Was that the demon Agone said I’d kill?Neck straining, she punched the arm holding her. A lot that did when he squeezed harder. She kicked and missed striking anything. She scratched at Mazt’s arm and earned a laugh for her pathetic efforts. He laughed at her.
Laughed.
Because her life meant nothing. She was a joke. And Harry was a joke. But worse, Harry was a joke that didn’t need to be. Fuck wrong place, wrong time. Try wrong friend. Try worst friend in history. Harry was dead, and it was because of her. Eden’s fault. No one else’s. Her fault and the creature in front of her.
She’d hated nothing more in her entire life. It had to die. It couldn’t live while Harry was dead. She wouldn’t allow it.
Mazt pricked the side of her neck. A drop of crimson clung to the tip of his claw. His tongue unfurled from his mouth filled to the brink with jagged teeth and waited for a taste. She waited, fascinated, as it dangled in the space between them until it dropped on the center of his tongue. Slowly, his tongue retracted, and his mouth closed. A shudder ran through him. His eyes rolled back, and his head lolled on his shoulder.
“Ambrosia,” he gushed and swung her like a rag doll. “Master wouldn’t let me taste the other one, but I found you first. To the victor goes the spoils.” He stilled, his expression suddenly tense. “Don’t tell him.” He shook her, causing her head to bobble like a doll. “Promise me you won’t tell him.”
Good to know he feared something. Dizzy, she blinked until he settled into one demonic being, not twelve. “I’m telling him everything,” she wheezed. “Maybe he’ll kill you before he kills me.”
“Bitch!” His head snapped back, and his jaw unhinged. Mouth, tonsils, throat, she almost saw his stomach. “He doesn’t need you alive. Draining a corpse is just as satisfying as draining you alive.” His hand curled into a fist.
Eden braced. Death came for her and she wouldn’t look away.
Light filled the room, blinding in its intensity, yet a balm to her soul. Eden basked in the radiance.