In Everwood's south end, the air was heavy, too heavy for a town of size. The smell of fuel and rot twisted through the crumbling alleys, clinging to the skin like smoke. There were too many shuttered shops, unfulfilled promises, and ghosts in this area of town for it to be featured in the brochures.

  The neon signs sang softly at night, illuminating the crumbling walkways with a sickening hue. With its windows blacked out and a man with knuckles scarred from too many fights guarding the entry, a dive pub named "Maggie's" flickered in and out like a fading pulse. You weren't supposed to come here to relax. It was the type of place where secrets, bodies, and perhaps even pieces of oneself were buried.

  The smell of cheap wine and sweat hung heavy within. The clients were compelled to perspire under dark, buzzing lights after the air conditioner died years ago. In the back booth, where the shadows engulfed the majority of the space, a bargain was being negotiated.

  Leaning back against the cracked leather seat, Detective Frank Holloway's shirt sleeves were pushed up, exposing the faded ink along his forearm, which had previously been military. One other life. Although his badge weighed a lot on his belt, GoreCorp's leash was heavier. A brown paper bag was pushed across the table from him by Dr. Lena Voss, a pediatric dentist with dead eyes. pills. Her speech remained steady even as her fingers shook.

  “You’ll keep my name out of this?” she asked, voice cold, but underneath—fear.

  Holloway drew a cigarette from behind his ear and laughed without amusement. "Lady, the moment you began stealing their money, your name appeared on it. You've gone too far now. If you continue to act nicely, isn't a box the only way out? Perhaps you get to pass away while you're asleep. The bag was tucked into his jacket. "GoreCorp looks after its own."

  Officer Mike Grayson, a few booths down, burst out laughing at a joke that nobody else thought amusing. No one spoke as his beer spilled on the ground. His outfit, which was the same black leather jacket that GoreCorp kept shining over his badge, wasn't required here. Under his blind eye, half of the town's vendors paid their dues in cash or blood.

  Ms. Arlene Myers, a second-grade teacher who had long since beyond being simply a teacher, received a hand clap on her shoulder. She dealt with the children who fell between the cracks, the ones that no one would notice if they were gone for a night. She didn't inquire as to the children's purpose. All that mattered to her was that GoreCorp kept her alive and that her gambling debts were not recorded.

  Grayson leaned too close and whispered, "Big shipment's coming in," his breath smelling of whiskey. "Tell your friend to keep the clinic's beds available. Could get messy.”

  Myers only nodded, her eyes glassy and lifeless, as though she had long since lost the ability to care.

  The actual work took place in the basement beneath St. Luke's Free Clinic. Dr. Walter Meeks cleaned his hands of blood; GoreCorp would make another overdose and body vanish. He stopped calling people names. did not have to. His malpractice record remained off the records and his child's tuition was funded as long as he continued to patch up their runners and remove any trace.

  From the gurney behind him came a low moan. A pale, tense guy, maybe sixteen. Perhaps one of GoreCorp's spies. Young people were lured by them. simpler to break. Easier to bury.

  A black SUV with darkly tinted windows that prevented anyone from seeing the man inside was idling in the alley behind Maggie's. He was felt without having to be seen.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  You vanished if you slipped or talked out of turn. That became Rae's duty.

  And there was going to be a disappearance tonight. Under the clinic, the air was stuffy, heavy with blood, antiseptic, and the bitter tang of anxiety. Over the broken linoleum floor, fluorescent lights flickered and buzzed weakly. Healing was not possible here. Tonight, it was business, and it was where GoreCorp's errors were fixed.

  ---

  Like a queen in her realm of decay, Rae stood at the head of a table made of corroded metal. Her features were emphasized by the dark light; they were serene, icy, and unreadable. With her black hair falling in a crisp curtain across her jawline, she donned a sleek black blazer over a blood-red top. The air was distorted about her just by her presence.

  L?ren watched the room with calculating coldness as she leaned against the far wall with her arms folded across her chest. L?ren was razor wire, silent, tense, and lethal, whereas Rae was polished steel. Her long legs were crossed at the ankle of a dark gray suit that was fitted for her. Beneath the placid exterior, her eye had a rim that threatened violence if the meeting went south.

  Rae had Silas and Dante, her bodyguards, on either side of her. A mountain of a guy, Silas had a jagged scar twisting up his neck and a buzzed head. He loomed, his black gloves flexed, his gaze watching every move in the room. Dante's olive skin and black eyes, which never stopped moving, made him thinner but no less menacing. When he grinned, a golden tooth sparkled, but the holster beneath his leather coat wasn't just for show.

  Detective Frank Holloway squirmed in his chair at the table, his customary arrogance subdued by Rae's focus. Beside him, Dr. Walter Meeks lay out the medical reports, attempting to keep his hands from shaking as he discussed the latest supply of synthetic opioids that GoreCorp was transporting, overdoses, and cleanups.

  "This supply chain is becoming careless," Rae's words pierced the room like a knife despite its gentleness. With thin fingers, she picked up one of the files and looked at it absently. In one week, two bodies. People are beginning to inquire. I dislike being asked questions.

  Holloway's throat cleared. "We have it under control. Grayson is on our payroll, and he's keeping the other uniforms quiet. Nobody is paying too much attention.

  Rae's mouth turned into something colder than a smile. "Detective, you misunderstand me. If the city is blind, it doesn't matter to me. If it's efficient, I care. With a subtle tapping of her heels, she moved closer to the table. "Perform better."

  L?ren eventually spoke, tilting her head. Her tone was deliberate and polished. "How about the girl?"

  There was a long pause. Everyone knew who she was referring to—last week, seventeen-year-old Alicia Raines vanished. A GoreCorp mule that hadn't registered. It might unravel too much if she spoke—if she was discovered.

  Meeks stumbled, perspiration trickling down his brow, "She's still missing." We have observers out, nonetheless. She will appear.

  With the sparkle of something piercing in her eyes, Rae remarked, "She better." And I anticipate handling her when she does. Immediately.

  The weight of his presence filled the room as Silas shifted behind her. "I'll find her on my own if she fails to arrive in twenty-four hours." He promised pain in a steady, deep voice.

  Once again, Rae looked at Holloway. "Detective, you're in too deep to make a mistake now. Ambition is unnecessary for me. I require loyalty. Her heels sounded like a countdown as she moved slowly around the table. "Are you faithful?"

  "Yes," he replied quickly, though his fists were balled up under the table.

  "Well done." She paused behind him and put a soft but firm hand on his shoulder to remind him who was holding the knife in this configuration. "Because I won't bother leaving you breathing the next time I clean up your mess."

  Rae saw her gaze—always sensed it—but L?ren watched the conversation with indifference. L?ren's voice broke the unsettling silence as Rae slid her hand back.

  "We own this city," she spoke softly. "Avoid needing us to remind you again."

  Rae turned to the door without saying another word. She was surrounded by the lethal shadows of Silas and Dante. She knew that every soul in that room was more securely tied to her hold without having to turn around.

  L?ren stumbled into step next to her as she arrived at the stairs. Deliberately, Rae's hand touched hers for a minute.

  Rae said to herself, "I missed this," in a voice so quiet that only L?ren could hear.

  A knowing smile curved L?ren's lips. "Playing with your food was something you always enjoyed."

  Together, they disappeared into the darkness, leaving only horror in their wake.