I am being called. And if I don’t respond soon, I will go out of my mind.
I promised Gemini that I would stay here while he was gone, but my god is more important than staying put for his sake.
Finally, I make my decision and storm out the door.
The night air is misty,the damp clinging to my skin as I walk aimlessly through the busy streets of Pravitia. I could have stolen a few watches by now, maybe even a couple of wallets to get my blood going, but I have yet to lift a single finger.
My hands are stuffed in the pockets of my bomber jacket, shoulders raised up to my ears in a vain effort to shield myself from the chill. This is the first time I’ll be stealing something while being this connected to my god.
It feels different, like entering a brand-new era of my life. I wander with purpose, if there is such a thing. Flowing on an invisible current, I have faith that my god will lead me straight to my next fateful mark. I haven’t left Gemini’s neighborhood, my intuition tingling with the knowledge that I will find what I’m looking for here.
As I turn a corner, adrenaline shoots down my spine, and I know my mark must be close. I look around, but can’t find the source of this electricity in my veins. Then I look over my shoulder, and a knowing thrill charges through me as my eyes land on the man a few steps behind me.
I quickly turn back around and inconspicuously slow down, hoping he’ll pass me so I can start trailing him. But after a fewfailed attempts, the suspicion that this man might be following me slowly dawns on me.
A month ago, before being thrust into the cutthroat world of Pravitia’s favorites, my initial reaction would have been fear. The anxiety of the unsafe and dangerous. But tonight, all I feel is vexed outrage that this man does not know who I am and what I am capable of.
The crown of my head tingles, the feeling slowly moving down to my nape and traveling down my body. And suddenly, I realize maybe my god isn’t craving petty theft tonight.
But something a lot more violent.
I make a sharp left down a less crowded street just to confirm my suspicion, and a subtle glance over my shoulder confirms that he’s still following me. I walk down two blocks before I hear a short whistle behind me, and I whirl around at the sound.
I should be shocked to find Gemini standing behind me, holding the man by the collar and a butterfly knife to his throat.
I’m not.
I don’t question how he got here or found me this easily.
Instead, my stomach flips at the sight of his roguish smile. My mouth goes dry as I stare at his twinkling blue and green eyes. Signaling me with a jerk of his head to follow him into the closest alleyway, he drags the struggling man along with him and disappears into the shadows.
I quickly stalk after them, my heart now slamming in my chest with giddy anticipation. What’s coming is inevitable, the final missing piece to slide into place for me to claim my rightful place at the top of the Pravitian food chain.
I follow the sound of Gemini’s crazed chuckle, as if still leashed by the neck. When he deems us far enough into the alley, he breezily maneuvers the man so that he has his elbows pulled backward, facing me and unable to move.
It’s clear the man knows who Gemini is by the lack of resistance, and despite the wild terror written across his face, not a single cry for help leaves his lips. With one hand still hooked around the man’s elbows, Gemini hands me the butterfly knife before pulling him closer in his hold. I take it with a smile, and he blows me a kiss.
I take a moment to observe my very first kill. Graying hair at his temples. Wide-set eyes splashes in terror. A round nose. My assessing gaze lingers on a stain on his beige cashmere sweater. Then on the small chain with a locket hanging around his neck.
Petty jealousy pulses through me, and I wish I could have the same effect on people that I’m sure all six have on the citizens of this city.
I vow to become just as notorious as Gemini Foley and the rest.
To never be mistaken for prey ever again.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” I say mockingly.
The man blubbers and shakes his head, tears now streaming down his face. “If I had known,” he whimpers, “that you were one of Gemini’s?—”
“I am notone ofanything,” I spit.
I lunge forward, and the blade slices across his neck like shears on silk. The cut isn’t deep enough to be fatal, but the man gurgles a cry nonetheless as blood immediately trickles out of the wound, adding to his stained beige sweater.
Gemini grows ecstatic behind him, his laugh turning that more sinister. “Again, again.” He snickers.
Butterflies tickle my stomach as the pride spreads across his face, and I flash him a dopey smile. It urges me on, and I step closer. Tugging on his sweater to create tension, I slice down the middle, cutting it in half. I rip the rest of the fabric with my hands, revealing the man’s heaving chest beneath, the shredded sweater falling to the sides.
The knife thrums in the palm of my hand, as if sentient. It’s as bloodthirsty as I am, and I bring the sharp blade up to the man’s stomach for it to have a small sip. I nick the skin, and he whimpers, the blood from his neck wound slowly trickling down his chest.
