The silence was

smell. She wanted a pop song. Something tri

r lace mask. She saw the gleam of victory in J

in his glass, watching her with an intensity that made h

her hands o

t play Je

C-minor that rumbled in the chest c

to play St

layed it with a violent, aggressive

into the

her mouth

ion and suppressed rage. She didn't sing

ees bear str

e back of the roo

The "blood on the leaves" became the blood on the contract Abraham tried to buy her wit

shifted from party to funeral. She looked foolish standing there

et his glass down. He leaned f

. He didn't know the fa

gle, high note that cut off abru

seconds, n

arted. It wasn't poli

ow to the audience. She cu

th to scream something, but Abraham'

ay. His voice was low, dang

lked off the stage,

the wings. "Holy shit,

break,"

t him into the

ed over Abraham's shoulder. H

erial number on the twenty-doll

ooked at

n," Mercer said. "And the specific cocktail in the syringe..

eport. Then he looked a

fusal of the money.

l cli

est of his chair. A low growl escaped his lips, a

. "Abe? Are

re," he

aggressive movements toward the b

already in

her coat over her dress. The cold night

t toward the s

a halt at the mouth of th

r door

stepp

wasn't holding a weapon, bu

of my way

s wants

ork for hi

, his face impassive. "He says tw

ocket, gripping the ca

to keep th

to step

gain. "Please, Elida. Don't