“Put those magic fingers to use,” the stranger insists.
I swallow hard at that taunt.Magic fingers. “I had an audition today,” I say to the wall. I don’t know why the words rush out, but it’s easy to say them when the man beside me says nothing in return.
He doesn’t try to shut me up. He doesn’t prod me to go on...
I’m silent for four precious seconds. Then the truth spills free, and it’s like a dam breaking. “It was an audition for an orchestra—not a big one.” It feels important to clarify that when he lets out a sharp breath. He’s impressed, though I don’t know if it’s by the words I say or by how quickly I say them. “Not a big one. But they wanted me. They offered me a job to play in the strings, second chair. Second chair. It’snotabigdealbut—”
“That’s awesome, Pyro Girl,” he says quietly.
Awesome.I lock that word away, somewhere deep inside myself where I hope Vinny won’t be able to find it.
“I can’t take it though. I can’t take it. I have...” My throat aches beneath the bigger truths that won’t come out so easily. I have Vinny at my shoulder, whispering in my ear.You don’t need to make a living, Mi Bella. I’ll take care of you.He let me audition as a pittance. The fact that he wouldn’t allow me to accept my prize was just another game we’ve played since we were children. Vinny comes second to none. No one. Nothing. “I have...previous commitments.”
My voice breaks—a weakness that wouldn’t go unpunished in Vinny’s presence.
My stranger notices. Even worse, he notices and merely sighs. “That fucking sucks, Pyro Girl.”
“Yes,” I hear myself croak. My hand trembles and the can still in my grip rattles. “It f-fucking does.”
“Wow. Fun night.” The stranger whistles under his breath and then waves his hand toward the wall. “Looks like I’ve picked the best person to take on the devil. Here. Give it your best shot.” He nods once at the mural, and I follow his gaze.
Something inside me simply can’t resist the allure. It’s surprisingly tempting to wield such power over someone else’s creation. The paint can drifts upward before I realize it, and my thumb strikes the nozzle.
I jump when a jet of white paint speckles the wall amid a hungry hiss. The “Devil” watches me with burning eyes as I aim in the general direction of his head. I’m too short to clear it completely and the next stream of white hits the top of his carefully coiffed hair. For some reason, it’s easier to ignore the guilt this time. I keep spraying. Painting. Defacing.
For exactly thirty-four seconds, Vinny’s men are in another universe. There’s only me and a skinny stranger and the Devil being doused in white paint. Despite everything, I take my time forming a single shape, though my ineptitude is obvious.
Chuckling, my stranger points it out to me the moment my hand falls to my side. “Is that a halo? Or a...D?”
My mouth quirks into an unusual shape. A smile? “Both,” I say.
“Both.” He shrugs as if it makes perfect sense. “Well done, Pyro Girl. You’ve turned my villain into a superhero.”
Something inside me twitches, stung. If only it were that easy. My grip tightens over the can of spray paint again. Would Vinny be as easy to shape? The stranger takes it from me before I can settle on an answer.
“Thanks,” he says while returning the can to his bag. “You’vesolved that dilemma. But what exactly does the D stand for? Devil?”
I shake my head. “D for Dan—” My teeth clamp shut, cutting the word off, but I’m too late.
The stranger notices my hesitation. Names are dangerous. Vinny alone has three for me, each one representing a different facet of the person he’s shaped me to be.Lynnis the good, obedient girl.Danielais a nuisance. Mi Bellais the creature I never want to fully become.
“Danny,” I blurt out suddenly. “D for Danny.”
He nods, once again letting my insecurities go unchecked. It’s a small kindness that rubs at something deep inside me. “Cute name, Danny. I’m Espi.”
“Espi?”
“It’s short for something,” he says without elaborating. “Maybe I’ll let you know what on our next adventure?” He turns on his heel and fades around a corner before I can say anything in response.
Such as that there won’t be another “adventure”? I’ll pay for this stolen moment with months of increased security. Little birdies mustn’t seek fresh air from their cages for too long. I’ll pay for this...
But my body can’t quite muster up the urge to shiver as I begin the trek back toward the hotel. Vinny’s men are five minutes late, and surprisingly, one of them isn’t waiting for me by the emergency exit when I arrive. I enter the stairwell to silence. My footsteps echo off the elegant walls once I reach the topmost floor unaccosted.
I’m panting. A layer of sweat glosses my skin, and something inside me is shaking—but it isn’t fear. I can still smell spray paint. I can still feel the stranger’s hands on my skin. I glance down and find a smudge of black on my wrist. My first instinct is to rub it away. With every inch I travel closer to Vinny’s suite, the more that smudge blares from the shadows like a betraying beacon. Mytongue shoots out to dampen my lips, but I tug my sleeve lower rather than erase it. I flinch at the sight of the pink fabric. It’s still crusty with blood.
“Are you all right, miss?” The guard by the door is in the same position I left him last. He watches me approach with an unreadable expression. Was he counting the minutes?
I’ve been out for nearly ten. I’m convinced that his feigned ignorance is a trap. The moment I step through that door, Vinny will be waiting on the other end of it with a stopwatch in hand.Where the hell were you, Daniela? Whose scent is on you? Who touched you?
