Twisted - Esme Devlin Page 0,22

head anymore.

He’s holding a knife.

My knife.

But how did he get it?

Strange.

There’s an impact in my ribs, but not a sharp stab like I’d braced myself for. No. This is harder. As if he’s just jumped on me from a great height.

I thought I knew what death felt like.

Fire in your lungs and then darkness, before the peace finally comes.

But I was wrong.

Death is a pressure, a hard quick pressure, and then a whoosh.

Like falling.

Like being born.

9

Baron

If I’m honest, she disappoints me.

I had expected more of a struggle from my little spitfire. Then again, water is the greatest weakness of fire, isn’t it?

She’s not strong enough. Yet. I will change that soon enough.

I stand up from my seat just as her little body turns limp in the tank. She’s hard to see, a swell of black fabric against deep blue water, like someone spilled ink inside the tank.

But even a blind man can count.

I was holding my breath with her—I think the whole fucking room was. She’s been in there long enough.

Pulling the rifle up from under my seat, I stand at the edge of the ring and aim. Three. Two. Just one more second, precious girl.

Water spills everywhere, bouncing off the sand and drowning everything in its path like some fucked-up Bible story. Sapphire lies in a heap, and Maxim and Denim rush toward her instantly. I reload the weapon and train it on Maxim’s head.

He doesn’t get to touch her anymore.

Hearing the click, he backs away quickly just as I move in. Dropping the gun, I sink to my knees—not caring a fuck about the shards of glass littering the sand—and flip her onto her back. I tilt her head back and listen—feel—for breath.

Of course she’s breathing. She’s strong, and I knew it.

Should never have doubted her, you fool. She was just fighting quietly instead of making a big song and dance about it. I respect that.

I push her over just as she starts coughing and spluttering.

“Get the key,” I shout to whoever the fuck is listening.

Denim throws me the ring and I tilt her over, making quick work of each lock and letting them drop to the wet sand.

She’s freezing. She needs warmth. Blankets. She needs to get out of these wet clothes.

But not here.

Time to bail.

“You just… you just killed me. I died,” she stutters, water still dribbling from her mouth and nose.

“Now, now. That’s plenty,” I tell her. “I could have sworn I saw Maxim throw you into that tank with his own two hands. In fact, I think I was the one who just saved you.”

She opens her eyes and looks up at me blankly, confusion written across her pretty face. Already her lids are struggling to stay open.

“I don’t…” She sucks in a breath and lets it out again in two half-coughs. “I don’t —”

I cut her off by scooping her up into my arms. She’s shivering from the cold. We’ll fix that.

“Shh,” I tell her, walking toward the exit. “If anything you owe me a full helping of gratitude. But there’s time for all that. We have a deal to make good on first.”

She shakes her head as her eyes drift closed. Since she’s currently half-comatose, I suppose I won’t hold it against her. At least not right now.

I duck out of the tent, and my eyes land instantly on my old friend. She’s sitting in her booth, that same knowing smirk written across her face.

I smile and tip my head to her, giving her the same knowing smirk right back. She can’t see it, of that I’m positive, but who cares. Certainly not me.

“Don’t you be forgetting our wager now,” she shouts as I walk past her.

“Never,” I shout back with a chuckle.

I don’t lose.

I never lose.

The card sits in a wooden box on top of the writing desk in my bedroom, where all the other images I no longer care about go to be forgotten.

I will remind her I won when I see her again in hell.

10

Sapphire

I think I’m in a vehicle. My eyes are still closed, so I can’t be sure. I’ve only ever seen pictures of cars, trucks, motorcycles, but I can almost remember what they felt like.

That was before I came to the carnival. Back when I had a mom, and everything always felt like running away.

I want to open my eyes and look around. To confirm if the outside is how I remember it, or if I just imagined it from pictures.

The sky, do the stars really