“Of course you do,” Chance muttered. Knowing Kingston’s family, they probably owned the place, like everything else in a thousand mile radius. They were like the Rockefellers of New England.
Colton snuck up behind Kingston. “Boo!” he yelled loudly and grabbed hold of his shoulders.
Kingston didn’t even flinch. Annoyed, he turned and raised his brow defiantly. “You’re rumpling my shirt.”
“Dude, calm down,” Colton said. “It’s just a t-shirt.”
“Yeah right, I don’t want it fingered up.” Kingston pulled his shirt back in place. “Who knows where your damn hands have been.”
Colton bit back a nasty retort. He was going to say they had been all over Moriah’s sidekick but he caught the evil glare Moriah was giving him and kept his mouth shut. What the hell did that chick Edie tell her? He couldn’t help but wonder. Not that he really cared, except after he had left her high and dry, something completely messed up happened to him. He was headed down the mountain when he saw someone or something jump out in front of his car. He slammed on his breaks; he thought for sure he had hit whatever it was, but when he got out of his car, nothing was there.
Much later, he woke up in his car, his head pounding, and his clothes were missing with the exception of his skivvies and socks. It freaked him out really bad. “Sorry dude. I was just messing around.”
“Right,” Kingston said distracted. Colton walked back over to Heather. She looked good. Kingston wondered what she was doing with Colton.
Moriah turned and her heart sank. Kingston was staring at Heather and she looked great as usual. Self-consciously she sucked in her stomach.
Heather leaned back and laughed at something Colton said. She oozed sophistication and reeked of wealth.
Moriah looked down at her own outfit. It was completely generic compared to Heather’s. She rolled her eyes and turned away before she vomited all over herself. Watching perfect Heather, fling her perfect hair around, wearing her perfect clothes, was making Moriah perfectly sick. Bitch.
“Hey!” I jumped in front of Moriah and blocked her view of Heather.
“Shit, Evie! You scared me.” She pressed her hand to her chest.
“Sure I did.” I bumped her. “What are you looking at?” Of course, I didn’t need to ask. It was obvious. Moriah was gawking at Kingston as he watched Heather. It amazed me that Moriah still felt inadequate near Heather. Money wasn’t everything, but Moriah had always been insecure about that, especially since she had started seeing Kingston, and it kind of pissed me off. Money didn’t make the person, and Moriah had a lot of shit going for her that money could never buy. Kingston was the lucky one, not the other way around. Moriah would never see it that way though—her mom messed with her mind way too much. She was really into money.
I glanced towards Colton. He looked perfect as usual, and was busy salivating all over Heather. I made a face. I bet his ass knew Heather’s name. I tried to pretend like I didn’t care. He could poke Heather with his thingy. But watching them laugh with one another made my stomach drop. Who was I kidding? I felt just as inadequate as Moriah—probably even a bit more.
“I’m getting a drink,” I told Moriah, not wanting to watch Colton with Heather. “You want one?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Moriah never took her eyes off Kingston.
“You wanna come with?” I asked, hoping she would.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Okie dokie, be back in a bit.” I gave Moriah one last glance then took off across the drive. I purposely took the long way around to avoid passing Colton.
The ground was already heavily littered with red plastic cups and I cut across the front of the stage and weaved through the crowd of people gathering there. The music was about to start. The Fantasy Defender was about to hit the stage. There were at least a hundred people already idly standing around drinking and I knew there would be more the later it got. I didn’t envy them walking up the creepy drive in the dark, either.
26-REPULSED
The ripe smell of urine stole my breath and I immediately regretted stopping off to use the bathroom before I got drinks.
“Gross.”
I lifted my shirt and covered my nose. A line of girls curved around the side of the building, waiting. Most of the girls I recognized from the coffee house or campus. There were a few, though, that I had no idea about, especially the two Goth-looking girls standing in line in front of me. They were in the midst of a serious make-out session. It was a heated scene.
They kissed… caressed… bit… squeezed… moaned… and were really into what they were doing. At first I averted my eyes but ended up glancing back at them. It was kind of hot to watch, in a weird way. One of the girls opened her eyes and looked right at me. I guess I should have been embarrassed or even apologetic, but heck, they were the ones getting all busy in the bathroom line. What else was I supposed to do? Stare at the ground? Instead, I smiled at one of the girls. She winked at me in return. My face heated as I smiled back—like, thanks for the compliment but I’m not interested sort of way, even though I did feel flattered. The chick was hot, so obviously she must have thought I was pretty hot too. At least it helped to bolster my flattened ego.
The wind picked up strength and gusted around the corner. A loud, grossed-out–groan, was expelled by nearly every female in the line as the unmistakable stench of someone’s “number two” sucked all the freshness out of the air.
“No wonder the line isn’t moving,” I muttered and quickly covered my face again.
“What the hell?” one of the girls behind me in line complained. “Who has a big-ass party and only has one Jiffy-John?”
I had to agree. It wasn’t like Kingston didn’t have enough money to buy a truckload. Bouncing up and down, I crossed my legs like most of the other girls in line. It wasn’t helping. Actually, it kind of made it worse. A few more girls dropped from the line and ran off into the woods. I was trying to decide if that was the avenue I wanted to take. As if on cue, some random guy with a shaved, tatted head stumbled out from behind a tree and yanked up his zipper. His dark eyes caught mine. “See something you like?”
“Ah—No,” I snapped.
He lifted his brow in response to my snappy retort, shook his head, and laughed stupidly in my face.
I stepped back reflexively.
He laughed harder, brushed past me, and headed back into the fold of the crowd.
Creep. That was it. I was done waiting. At this rate I would end up missing the entire party. Stepping out of the line I walked around the front of the mansion to check to see if a usable bathroom was inside.
Dodging some people sitting on the stairs, I made my way to the doorway. More people were gathered in clusters, hanging around the edges. The ugly statues I had seen earlier with Moriah, now each had a red cup perched jauntily on top of their heads, making them appear as though they were wearing little red makeshift hats. They looked silly now, but I still gave them a wide berth as I walked inside.
The stale odor of the room hit me as soon as I stepped through the door. I still didn’t like it, but soon, another sharper, pungent scent, filled the air and intermixed with the musty odor.
Two guys dressed completely in black were sitting on the stairs and passed a joint off to each other. The thick smoke swirled around their heads and made the room hazy. Looking for a bathroom, I walked further into the foyer. Heck at this rate, I would pee in a bucket if one was around. The farther I walked into the foyer, the more uneasy I became and automatically my eyes went to the side of the stairs, where the statue had been the previous day. The spot was still empty. I didn’t know what I expected. The carpet was still torn and I couldn’t help remembering how my fingers had held that very same carpet for dear-life just a day ago. Shivering, I hugged myself as an image of the guy I met last night flitted into my mind. It was funny. When he was beside me, I didn’t give the thing that had attacked me a second thought. It was only now that he was gone that I remembered the t
error I felt.
The chandelier jangled in the wind and pulled my gaze higher, up to the painted dome in the center. Large winged creatures floated amongst the billowy clouds. Earlier, I had thought they were cherubs, but now they looked different. They looked larger, darker…creepier. Actually, I couldn’t be sure what they were, since the ugly yellow glow from the blubs was hard to see past. It didn’t matter though. It still made me feel… uncomfortable. Rubbing my neck, I looked around. The two guys were now staring at me. “Hey,” I said and smiled awkwardly as I pulled my hoodie more snuggly around my waist.
“You want some.” The thinner of the two asked, his voice came out stilted as he pulled air further back into his lungs and held the joint out.
“Nah—I’m good.” I shook my head. “Thanks anyway.”
Smoke filled the air as he finally expelled it. “Suit yourself.” He shrugged and handed the joint back off to his buddy.
At least they were normal…well, kind of. I turned and walked back to the open door. The cool breeze ruffled my hair. Even though I still needed to use the bathroom, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go back inside and look for one. Maybe I should just go behind a bush. It seemed safer somehow. Eyeing the area, I looked for the best place to go. Down to my right was a big bush that was blocked by the stairs on one side and a small tree on the other. Perfect.
A short time later, I crawled out from behind the bushes and did a quick check. Adjusting my skirt, I headed back up the stairs. Now, as I leaned against the column my mind strayed back to the guy from the night before as I wondered once again where he could have gone. And what of my attack? Did I imagine that as well? There were so many unanswered questions swirling in my mind, it was giving me a headache, and it was definitely ruining my fun. I had to stop.
Reaching up, I tugged nervously on my little Wolfie choker. My raven pendant had gone MIA, which sucked, but was another testament that my fight with the unknown creature may have been more real than I thought.
The sound of Sarah Fimm’s voice coasted over to where I stood as the evocative lyrics of Afraid resonated to my core and filled me with a growing sense of unease and dread. Once again I had the distinct feeling I was being watched.
Turning, I looked over my shoulder back into the foyer. The group of people that had been hanging out by the door were gone and so were the guys that had been sitting on the stairs. And yet, I still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that I was being watched. Peering further inside the foyer, I leaned around the door. Sure enough, someone was there…correction, two someone’s.
A petite girl with short, spiky platinum hair and some beefy guy were getting busy in the corner. It looked like they were about to have a full-blown romp-session.
“Wow,” I mouthed, and walked quickly back out the door as an image of the guy I met last night slammed into my mind. The way he looked at me in this very spot.
Sarah Fimm’s voice warbled as she said her goodbyes to the crowd. Reaching out, I grabbed hold of the column to my right as my vision skewed. A blur of shadowy shapes climbed onto the stage as someone bumped into me.
“Sorry,” they mumbled, and bumped into me once more, harder. The feeling of helplessness closed in on me and my hand slipped. Stumbling forward, I felt hands push me back up. I gripped hold of them, afraid I was going to fall.
“You okay?”
“Ah…” I tried to force my brain back to the here and now and finally my vision cleared.
A boy just about my size stood in front of me with a peculiar look on his face. He had blonde spiky hair and was wearing all black. He smiled at me, and his eyes glittered strangely in the darkness. “You okay, dove?” he asked.
“Um, yeah, sorry,” I said, feeling strange. My arm tingled where his hand touched it.
“Don’t be.” His lips twitched and a shiver of unease slid over me. A group of people walked up and pushed past. I was separated from the guy and when the group passed, he was gone.
Another band climbed onstage. The lead singer had jet-black hair that stuck out at awkward angles from his head. He was dressed all in black, and his pallid complexion was in stark contrast to the darkening sky. He looked like a vampire.
A spotlight flicked on the stage and cloaked the band in an ethereal glow. The drums kicked in; the heavy beat shook everything in the general vicinity. The lead guitar followed, and then the low constant thrum of the bass as every instrument pulled together in a menagerie of haunting poignancy. The singer grabbed the microphone and belted out the lyrics to Trying to Connect with you; the ever-growing crowd went wild. I knew what band it was now. Their name suited them—The Vampire Bats.
27-REMEMBERANCE
Heavy branches swayed in the wind and the stream of light from the stage flickered. Adriane looked across the crowd.
Two girls walked towards him with their arms hooked together. They looked the same. Vibrant red hair tied back into long ponytails. Their complexions, pale. They giggled with one another, their wobbly gait picked up speed as they approached.
Even though the simple act felt awkward now, he smiled at them. He used to smile often, in another time. Sadness settled over him. He pushed the memories away, keeping them at bay before they overtook him once more, and shoved his hand in his pocket. The tips of his fingers grazed across the small, circular pendant, the glass stone smooth to the touch.
“Hey there,” they called in unison, and skidded to an abrupt halt directly in front of him.
The shrillness of their combined voices made his ears ring. “Hey.” He looked past them through the throng of people.
“We’re twins,” they giggled out, and each separate voice overlapped the other.
“I gathered that,” he said, unimpressed.
They giggled again and covered their mouths with their ghostly white hands.
He saw a familiar face. He stepped forward, his heart picked up pace…could it be?
The girls tracked his gaze, and deliberately blocked his view.
Adriane frowned and moved again.
They moved forward, giggling, closing in.
At first, he was amused, but now he was beginning to feel like prey. Apparently, some things had not changed so much over time. He was starting to think there was more to worry about in this world besides Degarè.
“We can do things together,” they said suddenly, shrilly in unison.
“Really, that’s great,” he said just to placate them. His eyes scanned the crowd. When they stepped closer, he sidestepped their advance. “Where did you go?” he sighed and then felt a light smack on his arm. He looked down.
One of the girls held her ghostly hand. It looked like she might cry.
“My, what big broad shoulders you have,” the other one remarked, and pushed the one that was about to cry out of the way. She placed her unusually cold hands on his arm. Not to be outdone, the one that was about to cry walked over to his other side and quickly grabbed his free arm.
His blood ran cold. He suddenly felt trapped. They reminded him of another time from long ago. His mind yanked backward…to where he did not want to go.
Adriane*the past*
The darkness of night surrounded him, closing in on all sides. His arms stretched tautly between two mortared columns, the heavy metal bands clasped firmly around his wrists. The chains clanked loudly as he pulled against them, trying to break free—the cold air turned his breath white as it swirled around his head and clouded his vision.
From the shadows, two hooded figures emerged and flanked either side of him. Their long, gnarled fingers worked the chains free from the columns. The restraints that bound him fell heavily to the ground. His arms were dead-weight at his sides. The hooded figures grabbed the chains and pulled him forward. He stumbled and fell to his knees. They jerked him back up and pulled him towards a clearing.
“Don’t!” He tried to pull back, his muscles protested painfully as he fought for freedom.
A rock jutted up from the ground, blackened smears across the top
. “No! Please!” he cried out and pulled harder; using every bit of strength he had left in his body. His mind spun in circles. Memories bombarded him, like a whip, snapping, as pain shot through his head. Angry tears filled his eyes, burning them. Screaming, he jerked back as he remembered what he really was….
28-CURIOUSITY
The station for booze was set up away from the stage, towards the opposite side of the mansion. At least the stench of urine wasn’t sucking up all the fresh air over here. Slowly, I picked my way through the crowd and took my place in line, all the while hoping something would be left by the time I got to the front. A crowd of girls hurried away. A tall, dark haired guy moved to the front of the line, lifted the lid to the huge Igloo vat, and dipped another cup into the mixture. He had three.
I knew what it was: Barnaby’s Jungle Juice. The drinks to choose from were on the slim side: cheap keg beer or mind-eff alcohol. I couldn’t decide which one I wanted to drink.
Alistair froze in mid-pour. He inhaled deeply, and pulled in the sweet unmistakable smell. The rhythm of his heart picked up as his skin prickled with awareness.
Gawd, was his ass gonna drink it all? I was about to say something, but then he reached out his arm and my heart stopped. He had a tattoo on the inside of his arm that looked just like the guys I had met last night. Was that him? It had to be. I leaned to my left, trying to get a better look.
“Move,” Heather hissed and stepped in front of me.
“There’s a line,” I snipped right back.
Heather glared at me. “And…” she prompted.
Not wanting to make a scene, I kept quiet and rolled my eyes.
“That’s what I thought,” Heather snapped and turned, making her long hair fling out from behind.
I ducked.
Bitch.
“Hey dude, you planning on hogging it all?” Heather asked nastily.
Briarcliff Page 12