Thirty minutes later, Violet arrived at the hardware store decked out in Logan’s oversized flannel and the black wig, which she’d cropped to a blunt bob and topped with the baseball hat. Dark eye makeup completed the disguise. She looked ridiculous, like some goth tomboy. But just the type to frequent hardware stores probably—not that she had any frame of reference for that conjecture. Point was, she wouldn’t be recognized if she were caught on a surveillance camera.
When she entered, she headed to the back, searching for a lone employee. It wasn’t long before someone emerged from the stockroom.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked the pimple-faced, scrawny teen in the orange vest. He turned, and she caught him with a hand on his bare forearm. Her colored strands flickered, ready for a new target.
She thought of Logan, cuffed to the banister at her condo, and smiled, knowing he was out of her control for the moment. This glimpse of freedom would drive him mad. She bit her lip to stifle the grin and shot her threads at the worker. They licked around his head like dancing flames for a moment before settling in.
Enchanting him didn’t give her the trouble it had with Logan, and it was even easier than it had been with the pharmacist. She had the kid go to the stockroom, load up a cart with a generous supply of lye, and meet her outside the back door. After sending him back inside, she wheeled the cart over to her car and loaded it up. It was more work than she would like, but she needed her car to remain undetected. Once she released the kid, he would remember all he’d done, and she couldn’t risk getting traced.
By the time Violet returned to her condo with the stash of lye, she’d already connected her colored threads to Logan. The sheepish, red-cheeked version of him was waiting for her when she entered the living room.
She eyed the nasty red blisters around his wrists and clucked her tongue at him. “Well, well. Someone’s been busy, hasn’t he? I won’t be able to let you go anywhere until those heal up.” She retrieved the key from her pocket and unlocked the handcuffs. He watched her, his face still tinged with pink, either from embarrassment or a lingering flush from what she assumed had been passionate fury. She smiled at him, half wishing she could’ve seen it.
“Come here,” she said once he was free. He came to her and she pressed her mouth against his. He kissed her hungrily like he’d been aching for it. But he tasted salty and smelled like sweat. She pulled back. “Ick, you need a shower.” He gave a pout, and she patted him on the shoulder. “You can get cleaned up in a bit, but first we have to finish our task.”
After several trips, they’d retrieved all the bottles of lye from her trunk. After reading the instructions on the bottle, she filled a large bucket with water and mixed in the powdered lye. Since she wasn’t trying to unclog a drain or clean cast iron, she dumped in way more than it called for.
“Yikes, that’s already hot!” Violet said. She made Logan bring the bucket of lye upstairs to the bathroom. “Watch out,” she told him. “Don’t spill it, or you’ll ruin my wood floors.”
Violet surveyed Holly’s body again. They needed to get her out of her clothes to give the lye its best chance to dissolve the flesh. But undressing her seemed too cumbersome a task, so she told Logan to go get the scissors. At her direction, he cut the clothing away and removed it, leaving Holly deservingly bare.
After that, she plugged the drain, and they dumped the boiling lye solution over the body. To Violet’s satisfaction, immediately the flesh began to sizzle. She just needed to make it unidentifiable. It looked like her plan was going to work.
It was a tedious process since it took several rounds of filling the bucket and mixing the lye until the milky substance fully covered Holly’s body.
By the end, the bathroom reeked of burnt flesh and chemicals. Even running the whole time, the exhaust fan made barely an impact on the smell. Violet doused the bathroom with lavender oil, shut the door behind her, and waited.
In the meantime, she sent Logan to clean himself up and make her dinner. The hint of a headache was creeping up the back of her skull, a sign that her meds were wearing off. After taking a generous dose, she lay down on the sofa where the lingering traces of the stench from the upstairs bathroom couldn’t reach.
An hour later she awoke to the sizzling of garlic and onions. She didn’t know what Logan was making, but it smelled delicious, and she was ravenous.
After dinner, Violet ascended the stairs to check on Holly. She grimaced, hesitating with her hand on the knob. If the lye hadn’t done its job, she’d have to come up with a way to finish it off. Cracking the door sent a wave of lavender-scented burnt flesh at her, and she bent over gagging. Thankfully her dinner didn’t come up. When she’d composed herself, she put an arm under her nose and held her breath. Then she crossed the threshold.
The liquid in the bathtub was murky, and Violet could see none of the body beneath its surface. Realizing she needed a way to drain the lye without melting her own flesh, she retrieved a pair of tongs from the kitchen. They allowed her to unplug the drain and release the liquid.
She waited for what was left of Holly’s form to show above the surface of the solution, but even when the tub was halfway drained, there was still no sign of the body. Violet perched against the wall and folded her arms, listening to the soothing gurgle of the drain and watching her dancing cords play. After several minutes, she looked back at the tub. The last trickles of the murky solution drained away, leaving not a bone nor a fragment of tissue behind.
Violet arched her brows, impressed. This would make things even easier. She turned on the bathwater, rinsing away the final traces of her old friend.
~
For the next hour of Graham’s shift, he couldn’t stop thinking about the man who’d died, and what Jade had told him about Logan. He still couldn’t quite wrap his brain around it.
He knew Violet. For all intents and purposes, they’d grown up together. She was feisty, passionate, and yes, even manipulative sometimes. But a killer? It didn’t fit. She had another side too—the softer one that had once stood up for him when he’d been taunted. The part that had encouraged his creative side, pushed him forward into becoming a better writer. Yes, they’d had a falling out over the past few years, but how could that girl do something like this?
The accident had changed her. This he knew, but it still didn’t explain the disparity between her better side and the frightening things that haunted his dreams.
Jade was right: a confrontation was in order. He would talk to Violet, and he would find out the truth. Jade wanted to join him later that evening. But he thought about her emotional struggles, how they might make things difficult for her or worse—influence Violet somehow. What he needed from Violet was honesty, untainted by anyone else’s feelings. So as soon as he got off work, he drove to Violet’s condo.
He knocked on the door but received no answer. Hands in his pockets, he paced a few times, toying with his keys. Where would she be?
He thought about her frantic voicemail several weeks earlier and about finding her passed out on the campus lawn. So frail and nearly helpless, wracked with pain. If he hadn’t been there, what might have happened to her?
Noise from behind the door caught his attention. Someone was home. What if Violet had forgotten her pain meds again? What if she couldn’t get to the door or needed help? He tried the doorknob, but it was locked. His hand found the key in his pocket and pulled it out.
Graham slipped the key in, heard the click, and opened the door. When he stepped inside he heard soft speech he couldn’t quite make out. Locking the door behind him, he stepped into the entry and approached the living area of the condo. What he found made his jaw drop.
Violet lay sprawled over a chaise lounge with head tipped back and her bare feet propped up on a pillow. The man Graham had seen her with earlier—the professor, Jade’s ex-boyfriend—sat at her feet and was applying nail polish to her toes.
Despite seeing her in such a relaxed a pose, Graham still couldn’t tell if she was her
usual self. He cleared his throat. “Uh, Violet?”
Her head swiveled toward him. A frown rumpled her features. “What are you doing here?”
“I promised Dad I’d check on you, and after what happened a couple of weeks ago….”
“How’d you get in?”
“Uh…he sent me a key to your place. In case of an emergency.” He realized the other time he’d used his key, she’d been pretty out of it and probably didn’t remember.
“And you thought that gave you the right to just come on in?”
Graham glanced at Logan then back at her. “I thought you might be in trouble.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “And you’re interrupting.”
“I need to talk to you,” he said.
Violet’s eyes flicked to Logan for a moment. “Can’t I just call you later or something?” she said to Graham.
“It’s kinda important.”
“What?”
Graham cleared his throat. “How long have you two been together?” He gestured at Logan.
She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Since last week.”
“And you were seeing another guy before that, right? He used to be your friend’s boyfriend?” Graham was going on instinct alone because he’d never seen the guy in person. Nor did he have any proof that Violet had been dating him.
The tiny flicker in Violet’s eyes confirmed his suspicions. “Why do you think that?”
Graham directed his focus away from her. “You mentioned it earlier. Anyway, whatever happened to that guy? Was he not good enough for you or something?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Logan and I have been interested in each other forever.”
Graham met her gaze again. “Really. If that’s true, why did you just now get together?”
“He had to break things off with his ex first. You know how those situations are. We had to keep things on the down-low until then.”
“Then why was he leaving messages of his undying love on Jade’s phone?”
Something dark flashed across Violet’s calm expression for an instant, and her lips went taut. “How do you know what he did?”
“I heard it with my own ears, Violet. So what I’m wondering is, why in the world would he be with you?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Guess he finally saw the light.”
Graham narrowed his eyes.
“What? If you don’t believe me, ask him.” She turned to Logan. “Why don’t you tell him how you feel about me?”
Logan’s eyes lit up. He put the nail polish bottle down. “Violet’s amazing. She’s…she’s just incredible. I’m completely in love with her. She’s the only person I care about.”
“What about Jade?” Graham asked. “When did you stop caring about her?”
“Nothing from the past matters,” Logan said. “Nobody else is important. Just Violet.” He turned back to her, all swoony-eyed, like some invisible magnet drew him to her.
Graham let out a breath. “Fine. I don’t know what made Logan change his mind. But I do know what happened to your old boyfriend. And it doesn’t look good for you, Violet.”
~
“Graham, that's awful! Why on earth would you say something like that?” Violet asked. Her confidence suddenly wavered. How had Graham known about her and Ras in the first place? It made her nervous.
“I know he’s dead,” Graham said. “That he fell from an overpass. And I know you were there.”
She stiffened. “There’s no way for you to know that. Even if it was true, you can’t prove it.”
Hurt passed across his brown eyes. “Violet. How could you?”
His words were like fingers of accusation.
“How could I what? You don’t know anything.”
He shook his head, his mouth drooping and eyes sad. “I don’t want it to be true, Vi. No matter how much you drive me crazy, you’re my sister.”
The reminder of her dad’s indiscretion made Violet’s stomach clench tight.
“But everything points to you being the one who…” Graham swallowed as if he couldn’t get the words out. “…who was last with that man. What did you do to him?”
That was when Violet knew she’d run out of time. Graham knew too much, and she couldn’t allow him to leave. Not when he could spread rumors that might lead to a personal investigation. She ignored the question and kept her tone low. “Logan, would you please go upstairs? I think that toilet needs cleaning. Would you take care of it?”
“Of course.”
Not until she’d heard the distant click of the door closing did she turn back to Graham. He stood above her, watching her with questioning eyes. She patted the spot on the sofa next to her. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
She expected him to refuse, but he slid down, almost as if distracted.
That was when she noticed the soft glow around his head. When had she initiated contact? And why hadn’t she noticed the subtle hum of his presence earlier? Like Logan’s, his energy was elusive. But she must’ve touched him once without realizing it. That meant this would be even easier.
She plucked the threads from Logan and lassoed Graham in. As expected, the expression on his face turned instantly from confusion to enchantment. There was only one way to end this swiftly. When she spoke, she kept her voice even. “Graham, give me your phone.” He pulled out his cell and handed it to her.
“Now go to the kitchen and grab a knife.” Violet pocketed Graham’s phone for safe keeping. He stood and headed toward the kitchen, but he’d gone only a few steps before the door upstairs banged open.
Violet clenched her jaw. “Be quick about it, Graham. We don’t have much time.” She stood and rounded the back of the sofa to the bottom of the stairwell. From above her, she heard a throaty growl and a string of curses, the likes of which she’d never heard from Logan. His footsteps thundered across the floor above. He would be down in under a minute.
“Find one yet, Graham?” Violet called. There was no answer, but she heard him rummaging through drawers. “The drawer on the left of the stove. Get the biggest one.”
Logan appeared at the top of the stairs. He fumed, then charged down toward her.
Violet glanced back and forth between him and the kitchen. “Graham?” She backed to the wall, grateful her cell phone was in her back pocket where Logan wouldn’t have easy access. She’d destroyed his, and hers was the only one in the house, so he would have no other way to call for help.
Taking the steps two at a time, Logan was down in only seconds. Graham reappeared from the kitchen, knife in his hand, awaiting her instructions.
“Graham, take the knife and—”
“Don’t listen to her!” Logan screamed, drowning out the rest of her words. “She killed Holly! Get out before she kills you!” Logan flew from the bottom step, and Violet stepped back, expecting him to pounce on her. She held Graham’s gaze, opening her mouth to give him the command—
—when Logan shot past her, skidded around the corner, and made a run for the front door.
Violet’s eyes widened when she realized his goal. It wasn’t to attack her—it was to escape. And his hand was already on the doorknob. Unprepared for this outcome, Violet yanked her cords from Graham and flung them at Logan. She was afraid she wouldn’t catch him in time—that he’d run screaming into the condominium’s breezeway shouting to all the neighbors about multiple murders and how he’d been kept against his will.
He yanked the door open, but her threads caught him, and he froze. “Logan. Come back here,” she called.
Logan turned to face her with that same appeasing expression molded across his features. Something dropped from his hand and rolled across the floor. He obeyed, and Violet caught her breath. That been close—too close.
“What is that?” She frowned at the small orange object. “Were you trying to take my pills away from me? Go pick them up.”
Only after he’d handed her the bottle, returned to her side, and put an arm aroun
d her waist did she remember Graham. When she turned to look at him, he was approaching her with the knife still in hand and his eyes wide.
No!
She braced herself for an earful while her mind raced through options.
Graham’s head shook as if he were unwilling to believe what he’d just seen. Maybe she could use that to her advantage.
“Graham, come here a minute.”
He closed the gap between them. Then he skidded past and ran out her open front door.
Graham panted hard as he stumbled out of Violet’s condo. He made it to his car with fear clawing at his back the whole way. What if she enchanted him again?
He couldn’t shrug off the feeling lingering from her control over him. The residual effect made his whole body itch. It was a hundred times worse than being in one of his dreams about her.
He started his car and drove to Jade’s.
It was like he’d been brainwashed. The only thing on his mind had been Violet and how he could please her. It reminded him of his crush back in high school before he’d known they were related—but so many levels worse.
A shiver shook his shoulders, and he gripped the wheel tighter. He had to get to Jade as soon as possible. What if Violet hijacked him again?
~
Jade put down the book she was reading and checked the time. It was nearly five, and she hadn’t heard from Graham. He should’ve gotten off work an hour ago. She’d tried calling, but he hadn’t answered or returned the call.
After Chloe finished the final touches on the four outfits, she left to take them to the theater where the event would happen that night. Jade and Graham were supposed to meet her there in an hour, which meant if he didn’t come soon, they wouldn’t have time to confront Violet before the fashion show.
Jade surveyed herself in the mirror. Her dark hair was in uncharacteristic voluptuous curls and her makeup was showy and elaborate. Chloe had said it needed to be dramatic since she’d be on stage. To Jade, it looked like she should be in a circus performance, but she guessed from afar maybe it didn’t look as gaudy.
Enchanter: The Flawed Series Book Four Page 22
