Sunset ^beta

Emma was outside my apartment.

Every part of my body felt still as I stared at her face through the door camera. She looked tired, unsure, apologetic. She looked around and licked her lips before finally speaking.

"Hi, Morgan? I'm really sorry for bothering you, especially so late. But there's something important I need to talk to you about. Can I come in?"

It was hard for me to imagine exactly what could be so important, that she'd want to tell me in person, as opposed to a text, or a phone call, or an email. At the very least, she didn't seem to be drunk. I'd hate to have a repeat of the incident with Reyes.

Refusing her didn't seem like it would gain me anything here. "Of course! I was actually just thinking that I could use some company. Come on in!"

I hit the buzzer, then immediately turned to check the state of my apartment. For the most part, it was as immaculate as always, save for Serra's corner, which had been acquiring an alarming amount of tchotchkes lately. They were almost in danger of spilling out past the boundaries I'd set out for her. But there was nothing that could be done about that right now.

A few moments later, a soft knock rapped on my door, and I opened it to see Emma there. If anything, she looked even more tired and anxious in person. "Welcome! Can I get you anything? Water? Wine? Serra is out at the moment, so I'm afraid it's just me."

Emma smiled softly as she stepped inside, and looked around. "Nothing for me, thanks. I'm afraid this is business, not a social call."

"I see." I kept my smile neutral, and shrugged. "Normally when it comes to business people tend to schedule appointments."

"I know. I'm sorry." She walked forward as if she owned the place, eyes sweeping over every nook and cranny. "This place feels very you."

Did it? It's not like I put out a lot of decorations. "What can I say? A woman's heart is in her home!"

Where did I get that from again? Oh right. Some mid century sitcom Serra had wanted to watch. It had supposedly been a throwback to television from a century prior, and Serra had delighted over dissecting all of the weird gender politics it was trying to emulate.

I'd hated every minute of it.

With a heavy sigh, Emma sat down on my couch, hands clasped in her lap, squirming uncomfortably.

Not entirely sure what else to do, I sat down next to her. I stayed silent, sure she'd eventually get to the point without me prompting her.

Emma stayed silent for a long time, before she took a deep breath and turned to face me. "There's no easy way to say this, so I'll skip right to the point. We got him."

My lips parted, and I felt a tightness in my chest. "Got who?"

"Heartbreak."

. . .

Did they now?

"That's… wonderful news, Emma! Though I'm a bit confused as to why it warranted a personal visit."

Emma took off her glasses, and rubbed them on her sweater before putting them back on. Her gaze fixated on me, sharp and intense as always. "Because. The State is moving hard and fast on this one. We've got him dead to rights, fingerprints all over the murder weapon, and an apartment full of trophies and handwritten accounts of all the previous victims. Real pervert shit."

What the hell? Some sort of copycat? A stalker of some kind? I never should have let Hearbreak become a thing. What a goddamned mess.

"That still doesn't explain why—"

"Because. I need you to not take the case."

I blinked slowly. "Oh? Does he not have a lawyer already?"

"It's too much, Morgan. The State is hungry for blood. Heartbreak made them look like fools, and they'll pay that back in kind. Getting involved would be career suicide, at best. Especially if you pull off some sort of miracle like you usually do."

It'd be easy to stay away, to let someone else take the fall. To Heartbreak die. Hell unlike Carlos, I'd bet this guy wasn't even innocent. Some creep taking credit for my work. Might as well let him fry.

But then again…

"You must have an awfully high opinion of me if you think my involvement could actually make a difference!"

Emma looked me directly in the eyes. "I do."

Her sincerity caught me off guard, my lips parted, words caught in my throat. "I…"

"You're the only person in the world who could pull it off, Morgan. Create a miracle."

She leaned in close, her breath hot against my lips.

"After all… you're the real Heartbreak Killer."

". . ."

Emma's face spilt with a wild grin and she started giggling like a schoolgirl. "Yes, that's it! Right there, that look in your eyes." A shudder ran through her, and she bit her lip. "Like you were looking right through me. Like I was meat."

I pulled back from her on instinct, my brain running on overdrive. It felt like a gun had gone off right next to my head, and my ears were ringing. What the hell was I supposed to do? And why was Emma doing this? Why wasn't I already surrounded by fifty cops or riddled with bullet holes?

My first few attempts at speaking failed, until I closed my mouth and wet my lips. "This… isn't a very funny joke, Emma."

Emma laughed again. The exhaustion and the anxiety I'd seen in her before was gone, replaced with sheer mania. "It's so funny though, isn't it? All this time searching, trying to build a profile, and you were right under my nose. Evangeline Morgan. Criminal Defense Lawyer. Defender of the weak and the downtrodden. And an unrepentant serial killer."

What was I supposed to do? How could I get out of this? "Those are… some very serious accusations you're slinging at me. And I suspect if you had any concrete evidence then I would already be behind bars. I don't appreciate being toyed with like this."

"I've been tracking you, mostly. And so many murders line up with times where your location is unknown. You've been so careful about physical evidence, but there's only so much you can do for an alibi." Emma waved her hand dismissively. "I assure you, there's enough to put you away for good. I just haven't shared it with the state yet."

She was bluffing. This had to be a bluff of some kind. I had to regain control of myself, the situation. I laughed, but it sounded more forced than I usually managed. Damn. "Sounds a lot like speculation and conjecture, to me. You really think that'll hold up in court?" I gave an exaggerated wink. "Just what kind of game are you playing, anyways, if you're here alone with someone you suspect is a serial killer?"

"You can't kill me." Emma leaned closer again. "If I die, the police will be here in minutes, and all of my files will get automatically disseminated to them. I'm untouchable."

She reached up, and tugged at her collar, pulling it down so far it revealed her cleavage. Her heart. "But that's not even the most important part. You won't kill me, Morgan. Maybe you'll kill girls who look like me. But never me. You never kill people you know. It's one of your rules."

Rules? I had rules now? That wasn't even true, I had…

Hadn't I? Had it really all been complete strangers?

"Go on," Emma said, her voice low and sultry. "Do it. I know you want to."

It would be so easy. I had a knife in my jacket pocket. I had been planning to go out earlier. One swift moment, slip it right between her ribs, straight into her heart. How shocked would she look, that I'd called her bluff, as the light left her eyes?

I might even still be able to get away with it. She probably wasn't aware of the Noh mask. With it, I could run, probably escape the city. Find some rural shithole to hide in, or try to get smuggled to another country. It wasn't impossible.

Emma let out a soft moan, and another shudder went through her. "God, those eyes. The eyes! David's journal was right, everything really is in your eyes." She let her collar go, and kept advancing on me, until I was pinned on the couch beneath her.

"What do you want?" I croaked out, my voice raspy.

"You, Morgan. I want you." Her eyes reflected the lights from the streets outside, dazzling and dangerous. "You're the perfect killer. The perfect specimen. Even with all the vast resources of the state at my disposal, the only reason I'm here right now is because I'm a creepy, obsessive weirdo who would probably have been a stalker if I wasn't doing it legally."

"I'm not—"

She put a finger to my lips, and I flinched. "Come on, now, stop being coy. I want to see you, Morgan. The real you. I want to see you, to understand you, to know you even better than you know yourself."

There was no script I could fall back on, here. No clever trick of words that could get me out of this. I could break through, with violence, destroy my entire life, and probably get gunned down in a back alley in a couple months when I slipped up. Or I could… what?

I was in check. A beautiful checkmate awaited me next turn, a trap I had no choice but to step into. One more move, and it would all be over.

It was still Emma's turn.

I let my mask drop, emptiness staring back at her.

"So beautiful," Emma whispered, her expression full of awe. She gently stroked the side of my face. I looked away.

"The way I see it, there are two options for you. One: You kill me. Maybe you go out in a blaze of glory, maybe you run and are caught eventually. But it's the end for you, either way."

I knew that already. "And the second? Get to the point already."

"You become mine." Emma loomed over me, the shadow of her consuming the light. "I'm going to know you, to understand you. And I'm going to fix you, Evangeline Morgan. You're too perfect to let the state get their hands on you, to fuel their tidy little narrative of power. But there's nobody like you in the entire world."

Emma bit her lip. "You're a monster. You've killed so many people. All to fill some sort of unknowable hunger inside of you. And at the same time, you've helped so many others. You care, do take all sorts of little actions that show it, and exist amongst people who care for you too. You're a monster. But you're also a person. And I'm going to save her."

"That's…" There was a lump in my throat. What could I possibly say to any of this?

"You won't be able to kill anyone. You'll be watched at all times. I'll be moving in with you to— Oh, right. Does Serra know?"

"No!" I said a little too forcefully. "She doesn't know anything. Doesn't suspect a thing."

Emma giggled. "See? There she is. You don't want Serra to know, because you know it would break her poor little heart. Not exactly a very monstrous thing to do."

"I…" I closed my eyes and looked away. "Why? This is insane. You're insane."

"Maybe." Emma took a deep breath. "Maybe there's a hole in me too. One that I've never been able to feed, until I started chasing after you. It has to be possible. There has to be more to justice than trial and punishment. If I can find it with anyone, it's you. It has to be you, Morgan. Only you."

Only me. The words tugged at something deep inside of me, something long buried and mostly forgotten. With a deep, shuddering breath, I pushed Emma off of me, and stood up. "I need a cigarette."

"Of course. Go ahead."

Hands shaking, I made my way over to my air purifier, and lit one up, letting the smoke fill my lungs and calm my nerves, if only slightly.

In my mind's eye I could see it. Emma wanted me chained and collared. A personal pet, her own little experiment of morality and redemption. Desperate to find in me something she couldn't find in herself.

It was pathetic.

And I was even more pathetic for considering it.

Emma folded her legs underneath herself, and fussed with her hair as she sat on the couch, watching me. "So? What'll it be? A blaze of glory? Or a chance on something new?"

A chance.

That's what this was.

Emma's checkmate was thorough, inescapable.

But I'd always hated chess.

If I took Emma's offer, I could bide my time. Watch her. Feed her what she wanted to see. Figure out some weakness I could use, exploit. There would be a chance, sometime in the future.

When you were trapped in chess, the game was over.

But in poker, as long as you had one last chip, there was still a chance.

One last chip, and I'd play it better than I'd ever done before.

I took another drag of my cigarette, then turned around to face Emma, and let my old, practiced smile return. "Alright. I'll play your game."

Emma let out a sigh of relief, and smiled with shocking sincerity. "Good! That's great, I was almost worried there for a moment. This is going to be great, Morgan, I promise. I mean… I'm sure you'll hate it at first. But it'll be good for you."

I doubted that. There was nothing she could do to fix me, though she was welcome to dash herself against the rocks in trying. I'd play my part to perfection.

But even as I prepared to play my next card, Emma's expression sent a shiver down my spine.

Because she could see me, like nobody ever had before.

If I wasn't careful, she might actually—

Win.