Everyone turned to look at Aurelia Shaw.
Emily Stewart's eyes were bloodshot, her gaze cold and vicious as if she were staring at a mortal enemy, cursing the other woman to go to Hell. "You're the killer. I saw it. You killed my boyfriend!"
Aurelia's lips moved slightly, but she didn't speak. She lowered her gaze to her own hands—palms so delicate you could see the faint blue veins, now drenched in bright red blood. Drops of Blood Pearl fell, tick-tick, rolling down. Her fingers were long and slender, beautiful like a demon's hand. The amber irises hidden beneath her lashes were chilled, bottomless.
Heh. Her lips, bare of any makeup yet naturally flushed, curved faintly. She laughed without a sound; there was a trace of misery in that smile, a hint of indifference, and more than a little cold-bloodedness.
Meanwhile, whatever warmth still lingering in her blood was vanishing.
