In Cold Blood

Chapter 4

Addison woke up the next morning, her head pounding for more than one reason. The obvious was the alcohol from the night before which caused her severe dehydration. There was a bottle of water already waiting for her on her bedside table, which she happily drank half of once she was awake. Never drinking again.

She got out of bed slowly, though her reduced speed did nothing to stop the wave of dizziness that washed over her, and trudged to the bathroom. She left the lights off and cracked the window open so it wasn't completely dark.

No amount of light (or lack of) could prepare her for her reflection. She's not in her dress anymore (thank god) but her makeup from the night before was smudged all over. Even her wig was still on, tangled and frizzy. She looked like a zombie raccoon. And the worst of all is the red hickey just above her collarbone.

Which brought her to the second cause of her headache: Zed fucking Necrodopolus. Okay okay, she has to admit it: he was charming. In a stubborn, irritating kinda way. It was supposed to be easy: flirt a little, lure him away, kill him. Easy peasy.

Why did he have to go and ruin that! Why did he have to be so charming? Why did he have to be such a good kisser? Why couldn't he just be a pretentious asshole? Addison groaned out loud. She was so screwed.

All she had to do was kill him, but just the thought made her stomach twist into a knot. Or maybe it was just the nausea. She'll never have another drink again (that was a lie). She couldn't understand why she didn't just kill him. She had so many opportunities! Her knives were right there, tucked away in the custom holsters inside her dress. All she had to do was pull them out and gut him like a fish. Easy peasy.

Except he was hot and cute with his stupid smile and his dumb jokes. It shouldn't even be legal to be that attractive in real life. He wasn't even that great of a dancer, but that didn't stop their time on the dance floor from being one of the best nights of her life.

No. She couldn't think like that. She's supposed to kill him. Not dance with him and drink and laugh. She was supposed to kill him, out in the alley, far from the luxury of the club. But instead they were kissing and fuck he was amazing at that too. His lips perfectly molding with hers like they were meant to be there. Even in the crisp, cool autumn air was nothing when it came to Zed's fiery kisses and his hands roaming all over her body.

She shivered at the thought. She turned on the water, putting it on its coldest setting. She needed to snap out of it! Zed Necrodopolus was a virus: intrusive, invasive, all she could think about, but all around bad for her. She splashed her face with cold water and shivered for a real reason.

It took a while to get the makeup off, and after she brushed her teeth and took a long hot shower. She needed it to clear her head of Zed Necrodopolus. She went back to her room and downed the rest of her water, already feeling a little better. She got dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark grey long sleeve shirt. When she looked in the mirror, she could still see the edges of the hickey poking out. And she looked like death.

"Fuck."

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Lots and lots of makeup later, she was finally ready to leave her room. Hickey covered, bags gone, and eyes popping. If only makeup could get rid of her headache. She grabbed her phone from her bed, seeing the screen light up with five new messages.

'Weird,' she thought. She doesn't usually get texts, especially before eleven in the morning.

What's even more strange is that three of them are from the very man who's been plaguing her thoughts all morning. The first asked if she got home alright, the second following the first by only a few minutes. It had read 'You're probably already asleep so I'll see you tomorrow.'