Sobs ripped through my chest and carried with them an aching fire that rapidly overtook my head. I ran deeper into the graveyard, blind with tears and rage.

Wishing I could bury myself with the dead, I flung myself behind a mausoleum. Tripping on a root, I fell and scraped both of my palms, cursing at my inability for grace in a time when I desired it most. With little concern for sanitation, I rubbed my hands into the moist dirt. The action did little to relieve the itching burn of scuffed skin.

Maeve had betrayed me, and it set my stomach into twisting knots. I stayed bent over on hands and knees; ready for the expulsion of this sickness that was infecting me.

My body convulsed with uncontrollable and violent shivers. They threatened to rip me apart as my body expelled the nights contents. The wrath inside of me seethed with overwhelming anguish. If I went back to Maeve I didn't know if I could keep from physically lashing out, but they were drunk and needed to get home. If it was only the alcohol that made them say such a horrible thing, I still didn't know if I could forgive them. I propped myself up against the mausoleum. Dirt had stuck to my fishnets, which in turn were imprinting themselves to the skin on my knees. I took a deep breath in, and as I exhaled, I could feel the world around me shatter. The lights dimmed inside my head and I stared at nothing, feeling nothing. I huddled next to a vine of jasmine climbing its way up the stone wall of the mausoleum.

My heartbeat felt like it was pounding through my whole body. It forcefully rocked me back and forth. What felt like a few minutes, but could've been fifteen, passed. I could barely remember how I'd ended up on a cold patch of dirt. I couldn't get myself to think about anything except small truths. The night air was growing chilly. It was silent aside from a light breeze that rustled the leaves in the oak trees scattered about the cemetery. Nothing consequential. Then little things started to bring my mind back to the present. My face was wet with tears and snot. Although my sense of smell was dulled, I could still make out the perfumed spray of hair products I was bathed in. I inspected the dirt under my fingernails. The alcohol had made my head spin after running so much. My eyes flickered with the rotating world, trying to steady my gaze. My hands still itched from getting scraped. But something kept me from completely resurfacing. Anger. Pain. I inhaled the sweet scent of jasmine, wafting in the essence of Ethan. Still caught in the void, I heard a voice calling after me from a distance.

"Ricky!" It echoed through the empty graveyard like a whisper at first.

I struggled to focus.

"Ricky, baby, I'm sorry!" The voice called louder, closer.

I stared at my hands, at the rough crescent scab of browning blood on my palms from tripping. It seemed almost healed.

"Ricky?" I could hear Maeve trip against something solid like a placard in the ground. They giggled. Of course they were still intoxicated, Maeve had a nymph like gracefulness when sober.

My hands fell limp and I spread my feet outward, leaning lifelessly against the cold wall. My head drooped to the side. I was an abandoned marionette doll, waiting for someone to pull my strings and get me moving. There was nothing that could pull me out of my trance.

"Ri—" Maeve's voice cut off.

Everything went completely silent for a moment. Even my head had silenced its throbbing anger. The cool night air whipped at my face, slowly stirring me to life again. It felt crisp and soothing against my eyelids. My emotions settled and I forgave Maeve in that second. I inhaled a deep breath and prepared to unveil myself, wiping at my wetted face. A smell more delicious than that of the girl at the party tickled my nose and my stomach grumbled.

"Hi," I could hear the blush in Maeve's voice followed by a giggle.

I'd been found. There was no reason to make them crawl around the mausoleum into the little dirt patch where I'd found my solace. I peeked around the corner on my hands and knees, my cheeks glowing with embarrassment. For a brief second, I thought Maeve was looking straight at me. Then I realized their eyes were following someone stepping from the front of the mausoleum.

Where did he come from?

"Hello," a man's voice replied. It sent chills up my spine that curdled my stomach. His voice had an eerie resemblance to Ethan's.

I could barely see the back of him where he stood facing Maeve, but I could tell by Maeve's reaction that he was handsome. I tucked myself back into the shadows to watch.

Maeve straightened up and casually combed a piece of hair behind an ear. "Hi," they repeated in a more alluring tone.

The man softly laughed at the attempted flirtation. "You don't seem surprised to see me."

No. Not Ethan's voice. Its cadence was all wrong. This voice was cold. Unnatural. Evil. Ethan is dead, I reminded myself.

"I'm not," Maeve smiled. "I didn't expect to see you here," they gestured to our surroundings, "but a little birdy told me you were back. I'd hoped it was true."

"Oh, really?" He scoffed. "Why?"

"You know why," Maeve put their hands on their hips and smiled wider. "You can't go back there. She won't want you. Plus, you literally can't have her. But I'm here. And I want you." The last sentence dripped with seduction.

"Again, I say why? I seem to recall your constant scrutiny. Now that I'm the stuff of nightmares you want me? Is that really your kink, Maeve?"

Maeve's lips twisted into a deep sinister smile, "You weren't strong then. And now you are. Besides, you know I like to play both teams. In life and in bed. Had to keep up appearances and all that. You would know, darling. But, as I'm sure you're also aware, Aldrich's team is winning." Maeve laughed wildly and I could tell some liquid courage remained. "So, I'll be making a delivery soon," Maeve said, seductively edging closer to the man, "and then we can be powerful together."

The man laughed at that. "I'm sorry, weren't you just looking for your boyfriend? Ricky?"

Maeve giggled at his misunderstanding.

I rolled my eyes. This was the second time tonight someone hadn't realized that I was Ricky.

Maeve's expression turned mischievous. "You don't remember Ricky?" A pause of no answer and Maeve shrugged. "I guess you only met Ricky once."

I met this person? I was increasingly more confused.

"Well, aren't you still looking for him?" He questioned.

The unease I'd felt around the girl at the party came back to me. I should run. I need to run and take Maeve with me. I was frozen.

"Not anymore," Maeve sauntered towards the man, but abruptly stopped to scan the graveyard, "We should get out of here. Take me back to your place." Their eyes softened into a flirty gaze, "I can give you more than she ever did. And I'm not just talking about my powers."

He was done for. No one ever resisted Maeve's seduction.

The man lessened the gap between them, taking Maeve's hand into his own and kissing it. "I should have known you were the one for me all along," his voice was cold and emotionless. Sarcastic.

I could see only as much as the moonlight would allow. The man was tall and slender with wide shoulders. He was dressed for a motorcycle ride, with a leather jacket and heavy boots. Build wise, I could tell why Maeve found him attractive. His dark hair fell messily over the side of his face, hiding it from view. Even his shadowed profile was similar to Ethan. I clutched at my chest above my heart.

Maeve's mouth gaped opened as to speak but paused when the man spoke first.

"Do you need to be getting back soon?" He stepped in closer to Maeve, leaning closer still and almost entirely obstructing Maeve from my view.

"Never." The man huffed a laugh at the swift answer, but Maeve's face was serious. "I'll never go back, I promise. Let's forget everything and run away from all this chaos."

"You want to run away together? Sure. But first, tell me . . . Why did you betray your closest friend."

Maeve's face contorted, warring with itself for a second as they hesitated to answer him, "Hey, I—What?" Maeve stumbled away from him. "Frugi!"

The man grabbed at his ears and moaned. With fierce steps, he grabbed Maeve's arm as they made an attempt to turn from him. "This is what you want," he growled. "We can be together," his words paled my skin, turning my veins to ice and leaving me feeling powerless.

I readied myself to jump up and intervene. Maeve's body went rigid. Their eyes burned with an intense and abrupt commitment that shocked and immobilized me. Maeve had never looked at anyone this way. It was above lust, and possibly beyond love. It was utter devotion.

He had relaxed his grip, holding Maeve in gaze alone. Their staccato breathing had become loud enough for me to hear a few yards away. It was irregular and forced as if Maeve was reminding themself to breathe at this very moment. The man wrapped one arm around their waist and pulled Maeve up against him. With the other hand, he lifted their chin and began to kiss along their jawline up to an earlobe.

Maeve's eyes rolled back, and their eyelids fluttered closed as they melted into butter. I wasn't entirely surprised by his actions. Maeve's charismatic aura drew people to them in droves, but something about it seemed wrong. Maeve had said they wanted this man, but how could they want someone so cold and forceful.

My cheeks glowed with heat. It was impossible not to stare. The passion was jaw dropping. Part of me was too flustered not to watch, and part of me wanted to take Maeve and run very far away. I was still frozen in place on my hands and knees staring from the shadows, my mouth open and eyes wide. The smell of rust mixed with the alluring scent of something tinged with venom. My stomach growled with hunger again.

The man pulled his face away from Maeve's neck as they struggled to gather enough strength to object to his retraction. "I'd do anything to keep you from making your delivery. Thank Aldrich for this," he said, bending down to their throat and kissing it again with more vigor, their bodies pulsating together. He pushed Maeve back a few feet up against the nearest tree with little effort and no objection. Maeve was the marionette doll now. My foot twitched to get up. My conscience fought over whether to break Maeve away from him or allow them to have this moment. If Maeve remembered it at all in the morning, they would claim it was the highlight of their life for sure. If I broke it up, I might never be forgiven.

His body now totally obscured Maeve against the tree. I could only hear the ecstasy in their breathing. He steadied them against the tree with one hand and held Maeve upright with the other. The bark snapped and crunched under his grip on the trunk of the tall oak. Maeve let out a small whimper. I could only guess his kisses were far better experienced than observed.

He held Maeve in that position until their legs buckled and became limp. Releasing his hand from their back, Maeve slid to the ground. They must have been more intoxicated than I'd thought. Without even attempting to upright Maeve, the man began to walk away, muttering under his breath, "Filthy witch."

I knew I misheard him, but I flinched for Maeve at his hurtful words. He had been the first person I'd know to use Maeve for a good time instead of the usual way around. I could only be grateful he hadn't done worse.

"Revenge much?" A woman teased from further down the rows of tombstones. Her voice tickled with amusement. As she walked up the path to him, her face became more visible. Her image flickered in the moonlight between the branches of the surrounding oaks. She was the gorgeous and terrifying girl from the party. Only now she looked much more gorgeous and much more terrifying outside under the moon. Her mouthwatering scent intermingled with the smell of rust that grew increasingly more potent.

This man must be the boyfriend she was looking for at the party. Caught red-handed, cheater. I smirked to myself at the drama unfolding in front of me.

The boyfriend wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned to look at Maeve. He was further away now and still encased in shadows. As much as I always prided myself in being able to see in the dark, I could hardly make out his profile. Something about him reminded me of Ethan again. The familiarity plucked at the brittle cords strung tautly from my heart. The pain was as sharp as a knife's edge. Along with still being a bit tipsy, the smell of the jasmine climbing the wall behind me was starting to engulf me in memory.

He didn't hesitate as he shrugged Maeve off and walked past the girlfriend. "She deserved it," he answered with an air of willful rebellion.

"Why? She was still useful to Aldrich." There was a tinge of agitation in her voice.

The boyfriend continued his walk towards the exit. "I don't care. If this is the life I'm going to live, I'm going to live it my way. Besides, she was playing both sides. She couldn't be trusted," he called over his shoulder.

The girl scoffed and crossed her arms. "Don't be mad at me," she grumbled. I could just make out the smirk of amusement on her face. She was enjoying this.

"I'm not mad at you, Persephone." The man groaned, stopping at the edge of the cemetery, "I'm mad at myself. Just because she deserved it doesn't mean it was the right thing to do." He pulled at his hair, "I don't even know who I am anymore."

"There is no one you know now, and no one knows you." She stood with her arms crossed, watching her boyfriend continue to leave and disregard her words as if she hadn't spoken them. "Wait up!" She called after him. "We have to do as he says. Besides, there was a wolf at that party. It smells like she came by here," I could hear the excitement in her voice, "If we make it look like that's what got the girl, then maybe the hunters will look for a wolf."

"Are you sure it was a wolf?" The man looked up at the waning moon. The question was absurd to me. I hadn't seen a wolf, but if I did, I think I would know it was a wolf.

The girl called Persephone walked over to Maeve's side and crouched. The sound of ripping cloth broke through the silence of the night as she moved her hands over Maeve's sleeping body. My legs quivered to move.

"I saw her eyes," she answered. "Okay, we can go," Persephone stood and spun around, her eyes lingering on my hiding spot for a moment. A smile twisted across her lips, and I was sure she'd seen me. Without speaking, she turned on her heels and ran to her boyfriend.

I blinked, shocked by everything I had just witnessed. When I opened my eyes, Persephone and her boyfriend had already disappeared into the night.

I buried my nose into the jasmine vine beside me and breathed in the delicate scent that so fondly reminded me of Ethan. On reluctant legs, I forced myself to crawl out of my hiding spot and collect Maeve. As I walked over to them with a wide smile on my face, I wondered if Mave would actually remember this tomorrow.

Maeve lay motionless on their stomach under the tree where they were dropped, sleeping in an almost painful position. There was no trace of the inebriated snoring I would have expected. The sleep was just that deep to lull them so still.

I bent down to their side and took in Maeve's face hidden deep in the grass.

I paused my reaching hand. The stillness was too much. Maeve was empty. I grabbed their arm with enough force to turn them completely on their back in one quick pull. There was very little blood for how deep the cuts across the torso and neck were. Their clothes were shredded. It looked as if an animal had attacked, but I'd witnessed the entire thing.

And just like that, I was sober.

A furious heat rippled through me, shaking me with its strength. I didn't know whether to scream for help or to cry. My legs wanted to jump up and run somewhere, but there was nowhere to run.

What do I do? "This isn't real. It isn't real!" I caught my voice screaming out for no one to hear.

I can't leave them like this.

I froze in horror, still gripping their arm.

Eventually sunlight came. I couldn't recall how long it had taken, but it was now morning. My fingers were cold beneath the dirt and dried blood, but Maeve's body was colder. There were no goose bumps on their hardened skin. They could not feel the chill anymore. The ashen blue of the body was haunting. Once full pink lips were now chalky and stiff.

The cemetery's dead silence was broken by a blood-curdling scream that throbbed my eardrums. I sat up straight, afraid that the scream had come from myself. A woman donned in black ran toward me, the horrified expression on her face revealed she'd been the one to scream.

And then the police came, and then an ambulance, and even a fire truck.

Someone pried my hand loose from Maeve's arm as I screamed like a feral cat, afraid to let go. Another faceless person helped me to my feet. When it was evident I wasn't able to walk on my own, I was carried to the ambulance.

"Call the coroner, the other one's gone."

"God, what a mess."

"Do you think it was another animal attack?"

"That one's almost as pale as the one laying in the grass."

"Could possibly be a mountain lion attack."

A few disembodied voices found their way to my ears while others fell mute. I didn't know which person belonged to which voice or who was even really speaking.

I clutched at my chest where my heart felt like it was being ripped out and shredded into little bits and pieces. My inaudible sobbing ached my throat with the painful scratching grit of swallowed sand.

Why does everybody die?

This feeling was all too familiar. Losing Ethan was the most crippling experience I had ever lived through and now I had lost Maeve. Would I continue living? How is it that two people in my life have been taken away from me so close together? Ethan hadn't been murdered so I had no one to truly blame, but I had seen Maeve's murderous duo.

However, trying to explain the couple to the cops turned out to be much more difficult than expected. A female suspect by the name of Persephone who had a depth to her eyes that was not humanely possible. A male suspect that somehow knew Maeve, who had possibly met me once. Maeve had known the man and wanted him. Feared him but wanted him. I replayed their conversation in my head. None of it made sense. It was crazy. Too crazy.

They took me to the police station and sat me next to a desk littered with files and other miscellaneous papers. Burnt coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the smell of the late-night drunk-tankers foul body odors. It must have been plain to see that I was not a suspect. After thorough questioning, they called my mother to pick me up. There was no way I could drive now.

Jim was kind enough to come down and drop her off so she could help collect my things from the hotel room and drive our car back home. I painfully gathered Maeve's things as well. There was only silence on the way home as I lost myself in thought. The vacation my mother believed I needed left me more broken than ever before. My hands shook with anger. I may not have known what that man would do to Maeve, but I felt weak for not doing anything at all. Especially when my instincts had told me to get out of there. I wanted to scour the area for him. Hunt him and his girlfriend down and kill them like the animals they were. I watched Maeve's death replay in my head over and over again. I replayed our fight and ached with guilt that I felt so betrayed. And now they were gone. No matter how much I wanted things to be different, they never would be.

Maeve was all I had left of my sanity after Ethan.

Now there was nothing.

Nothing except irrational determination.

I will find them, and I will kill them.