Nightfall

by Douglas, Penelope

  This was a…a joke. A vastly inappropriate and lavish prank. It was almost Devil’s Night, and he was dealing me in. Finally.

  Blackchurch wasn’t real. Will didn’t even believe this place existed in high school.

  I passed rooms, some with one door, others with two, and some with none at all as the hallway splintered off into other hallways, and I didn’t know where the hell I was going. I just ran.

  The rubber soles of my sneakers squeaked across the marble floors, and a tickle hit my nose at the stale scent of age. Nothing was warm here.

  Walls changed from cream to maroon to black, rotting wallpaper fading in some areas and ceilings a mile high, as well as drapes falling down windows that were eight times my height.

  But the light fixtures shone, casting a somber glow in every office, den, parlor, and game room I passed.

  Stopping short, I took the second right and dashed down the hall, thankful for the silence, but also unnerved by it. They were outside the door moments ago. They had to be in the house now. Why wasn’t I hearing anything?

  Dammit.

  My muscles burning and my lungs tight, I couldn’t hold back the groan as I stumbled into the last room at the end of the hall and ran to the window. I lifted it open, the crisp air rushing in and breezing through the drapes. I shivered, seeing the vast green forest, almost black in the night beyond the window.

  Hemlocks. I looked out, scanning the terrain. There were red spruces and white pines, too. The moist scent of moss hit me, and I hesitated. I wasn’t in California anymore. These trees were native to land much farther north.

  And we weren’t in Thunder Bay. We weren’t anywhere near Thunder Bay.

  Leaving the window open, I backed away, thinking twice. The chill in the air blew through my short-sleeved white blouse, and I had no idea where I was, how far from civilization, or what kind of elements I’d run into unprotected.

  I ran back out of the room, pinning myself to the wall and quietly stepping down the corridor, keeping my eyes peeled. Think, think, think…

  We had to be close to a town. There were paintings on these walls, priceless antiques, massive chandeliers, and a hell of a lot of money that went into furnishing and decorating this place.

  It hadn’t always been a prison.

  No one would spend this kind of money on something a bunch of little frat shits were going to trash. It was someone’s home, and they wouldn’t have built it leagues away from town. A home like this is for entertaining. There was a ballroom, for Christ’s sake.

  I wrung my hands. I couldn’t care less who dumped me here. Right now, I just needed to get somewhere safe.

  And then I heard it.

  A call—a howl—above me. I stopped, my blood freezing. Tipping my head up, I followed the sound as it drifted from my left to my right, my pulse skipping a beat as the floorboards above whined with weight.

  Simultaneously. In several places.

  They were upstairs, and there was more than one. Taylor saw me run this way. Why would they be upstairs?

  And then I remembered what else was upstairs. Aydin.

  Taylor spoke of him like he was a threat. Were they going to him first?

  An echo of a voice traveled down the hall, and I trained my ears, the window behind me beckoning.

  Another cry echoed farther down, possibly from the foyer, and then another howl somewhere around me.

  I twisted around, dizzy. What the hell was going on? The nerves under my skin fired, and I forced myself to swallow as bile churned in my stomach.

  They were spreading out.

  Wolves. I paused, remembering the howls outside. It was like wolves. A pack separates to surround its prey and test for weaknesses. They flank the sides and the rear.

  Tears hung at the corners of my eyes, and lifted my chin, pushing them away. Will.

  How long had he been here? Where were his friends? Did he have me brought here as revenge? What the hell?

  I told him not to push me all those years ago. I warned him. This wasn’t my fault. He got himself put here.

  I dove into a billiards room, grabbed a cricket bat off the wall, and crept back out, hugging the walls with my back and darting my eyes all around for any sign of them. Chills spread up my arms, and despite the cold, a light layer of sweat covered my neck. Training my ears, I listened as I took one quiet step after another.

  A thud hit the floor above me, and I sucked in a breath, shooting my eyes to the ceiling again as I trailed behind the stairs.

  What the hell was going on?

  A blue hue, like moonlight streaming through a window, lit the dark marble floor down the hallway, and I followed it, heading to the back of the house.

  I inhaled, a sting hitting my nose. Sterile, like bleach. Taylor said the cleaners and staff just left.

  My knees shook, and my heart hammered in my chest. I felt like I was already walled in, and I didn’t even know it.

  “Here!” someone shouted.

  I gasped, flattening myself to the wall as I slipped around a corner.

  Peering back around it, I spotted shadows moving along the wall as they found my open window.

  “She’s running!” one of them shouted.

  I exhaled, fisting my hands. Yes. They thought I crawled out the window.

  Their footfalls pounded across the floor, racing back toward the foyer, hopefully, and I clasped my hand over my mouth as they faded away.

  Thank God.

  I didn’t wait another moment. I ran and ran, finding the kitchen in the southwest corner of the house. Leaving the lights off, I dashed for the refrigerator and swung it open, racks of fruits and vegetables shifting with the motion.

  I looked around, gaping at the size for a moment. It was a walk-in. I thought Taylor said they had to hunt for their meat. There was a shitload of food right here.

  I stepped inside the space, the immediate temperature change making me shiver as I scanned the shelves of food, all looking freshly stocked. Cheeses, bread, deli meats, butter, milk, carrots, squash, cucumbers, tomatoes, grapes, bananas, mangoes, lettuce, blueberries, yogurt, hummus, steaks, hams, whole chickens, burgers…

  And this wasn’t counting the pantry they probably had, too.

  Why would they have to hunt?

  Wasting no more time, I grabbed the netted bag hanging inside and dumped out the produce it stored, quickly stocking it with two bottles of water, an apple and some cheese. Maybe I should bring more, but I couldn’t take the weight right now.

  Diving back out of the fridge, I tied the bag closed and raced to the window, inching up on my tiptoes and seeing flashlights dance across the vast lawn.

  I almost smiled. I had time to find a coat or sweater and get the hell out of here before they got back.

  Spinning on the ball of my foot, I took a step, but then I saw him standing right there, a dark form leaning against the door frame to the kitchen, staring at me.

  I halted, my heart leaping into my throat.

  At least I thought he was staring at me. His face was hidden in shadow.

  My lungs froze, aching.

  And then I remembered…wolves. They surround you.

  All except one. He came at you from the front.

  “Come here,” he said in a low voice.

  My hands shook, knowing that voice. And those exact words he’d said to me that one night.

  “Will…”

  He stepped into the kitchen, moonlight casting a dim glow on his face, and something inside me ached.

  He was big in high school, but now…

  I swallowed, trying to wet my dry mouth.

  A light spatter of raindrops glimmered on top of his messy but trimmed head of chocolate hair, and I’d never seen him with scruff on his face before, but it made him look harder—and more dangerous—in ways I didn’t realize would look so good on him.

  His chest was broader, his arms in his black hoodie thicker, and he brought up his hands, using a cloth to wipe off blood that coated his fin
gers. Tattoos adorned the backs of his hands, disappearing up the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

  He didn’t have any tattoos the last time I saw him.

  The night he was arrested.

  Where was the blood from? Hunting?

  I backed away as he slowly advanced, but he wasn’t looking at me as he approached, just gazing at his hands as he cleaned them.

  The cricket bat. Where was it?

  I blinked long and hard. Shit. I’d set it down on the fridge floor when I packed the food.

  I flashed my eyes to the refrigerator, gauging the distance.

  Searching the counters, I spotted a trio of glass apothecary jars and reached out, swiping one onto the floor between us. It crashed, shattering everywhere, and he paused a moment, a smile in his eyes as I continued to back away, making my way for the fridge.

  “This won’t end with you in my sleeping bag this time,” he warned.

  I grabbed another jar and shoved it to the floor, backing up some more and closing the distance. If he charged me, he’d slip on the glass.

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I taunted. “You’re still not the alpha.”

  The dark eyebrow above one of his eyes cocked, but he didn’t stop, continuing toward me.

  The pulse in my neck thumped, my stomach swimming, but…as the glass crunched under his shoe and his gaze held mine, the pulse between my legs throbbed, and I almost cried.

  “Do you know why I’m here?” I asked.

  “Have you been bad?”

  I locked my jaw, but I remained silent.

  A wicked smile spread across his face, and I knew this was it. I didn’t think it would happen like this, but I always knew it was coming.

  “You know,” I said. “Don’t you?”

  He nodded. “Don’t you want to explain?”

  “Would it matter?”

  He shook his head.

  I gulped. Yeah, didn’t think so.

  He served two-and-a-half years in prison because of me. And not just him. His best friends, Damon Torrance and Kai Mori, too.

  I dropped my eyes for a moment, knowing he didn’t deserve it, but I also knew I wouldn’t have done anything differently if I could. I’d told him to stay away from me. I’d warned him.

  “I wish I’d never met you,” I said, almost whispering.

  He stopped, glass grinding under him. “Believe me, girl, the feeling is fucking mutual.”

  I backed up, but my hand brushed my leg, and I felt something in my pocket. I continued making my way for the fridge, but I reached into my pants and pulled out the hunk of metal, seeing a folding knife with a black handle.

  Where did this come from?

  I didn’t carry knives.

  I dropped the net and unsheathed the blade, holding it out in front of me, but he shot out and grabbed my wrist, prying my fingers open. I fought against it, trying to keep the weapon, but he was too strong. I cried out as I couldn’t hold it anymore and it fell to the floor, clanking on the marble.

  Whipping me around, he fisted my collar and brought me in, pinning me between his body and the counter.

  He looked down into my eyes, and I breathed hard, a lock of hair brushing against my mouth.

  “You like alphas?” he challenged me.

  I sharpened my eyes on him. “We want what we want.”

  He glared, those words far more familiar than he wanted to remember, and if I weren’t so fucking scared, I’d laugh.

  Growling, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. “Time to meet one then,” he said.

  Emory

  Nine Years Ago

  “Why are you quitting?”

  I stood there, avoiding my coach’s eyes as I gripped the strap of my bookbag that hung across my chest.

  “I don’t have time,” I told her. “I’m sorry.”

  I risked a glance, seeing her gaze hard on me under the short blonde hair hanging just over her eyes. “You made a commitment,” she argued. “We need you.”

  I shifted on my feet, a curtain of self-loathing covering every inch of me.

  This was shitty. I knew that.

  I was good at swimming. I could help the team, and she put a lot of work into training me over the last year. I didn’t want to quit.

  But she’d just have to deal with it. I couldn’t explain, even if not explaining meant that she’d misunderstand my silence as being irresponsible and selfish.

  The voices of all the girls outside the office filled the locker room as they got ready for practice, and I felt her eyes on me, waiting for a response.

  It was useless, though. I wasn’t going to change my mind.

  “Is there something else going on?” she asked.

  I squeezed the strap across my chest, the fabric cutting into my hand.

  But I drew a deep breath and pushed my glasses back up the bridge of my nose, straightening my spine. “No one’s giving me a scholarship for swimming,” I spat out. “I need to spend my time doing things that will get me into college. This was a waste.”

  Before she could fire back, or the look on her face made this hurt worse, I spun around and pulled open her door, leaving her office.

  Tears lodged in my throat, but I pushed them down.

  This sucked. I was going to pay for this. It wasn’t over. I knew that.

  But I had no choice.

  The ache in my back fired up as I stalked through the locker room, and I slammed my hand into the door, feeling the pain in my wrist shoot up my arm before stepping into the hallway.

  But I pushed through it, ignoring the discomfort as I headed down the nearly empty corridor.

  I was glad I got out of there before she asked why I wasn’t quitting band, too. Band wouldn’t get me into college, either. I wasn’t that good.

  It was just all I had left now that got me out of the house, and I didn’t have to wear a swimsuit to do it.

  I chewed on my lip, a ten-ton truck sitting on my shoulders as I stared at the floor. I headed for my locker without looking where I was going, because I’d walked this path a million times. Just keep it together. Time would pass. Life would move on. I was heading in the right direction.

  Just keep going.

  A few students milled around the halls, here early because of clubs or other sports, and I reached my locker, dialing in the combination. It was still a bit before the first class started, but I could go hide in the library to kill time. It was better than being home.

  Emptying my bag of my math and physics that I’d finished last night, I pulled my binder, my lit book, my copy of Lolita, and my Spanish text from my locker, holding everything in one arm as I dug on the top shelf for my pencil bag.

  He was going to find out I’d quit. Maybe I had a few days’ peace before that happened, but a knot tightened in my stomach, and I could still taste the coppery cut in my mouth from two days ago.

  He was going to find out. He wouldn’t want me to quit swimming, and pointing out why I had to would only make him angrier.

  I blinked a few times, no longer really searching for my pens or pencils as the searing pain under my hair from the other night raced across my scalp again.

  I hadn’t cried when he pulled it.

  But I retreated. I always flinched.

  Laughter went off somewhere down the hall, and I glanced over, seeing some students loitering against the lockers. Girls in their school uniforms, skirts rolled up much shorter than the three inches above the knee we were allowed, and blouses too tight under their navy blue jackets.

  I narrowed my eyes.

  With heads together and smiling as they joked around with the guys, the whole group looked about as shallow as a rain puddle. Never deep enough to be more than what it was.

  Shallow, boring, tedious, ignorant, and insipid. All the rich kids here were like that.

  I watched Kenzie Lorraine lean into Nolan Thomas, her mouth moving over his like she was melting into him. She whispered against his lips, and his white teeth flashed thr
ough his little grin before he slid his hands around her waist and leaned back against the lockers. My heart skipped a small beat, and I felt my pencil bag, absently sliding it into my satchel without taking my eyes off them.

  Shallow, boring, tedious, ignorant, and insipid.

  I blinked, my expression softening as I watched them.

  Happy, excited, brave, wild, and in heaven.

  They looked seventeen.

  And suddenly, for a moment, I wished I was them. Anyone other than me. No wonder hardly anyone at this school liked me. I was even tired of myself.

  Wouldn’t it be fantastic to be really happy for just five minutes?

  Her friends hung around, talking to his, but I only saw him and her, wondering how it felt. Even if it wasn’t true love, it had to feel good to be wanted.

  But just then, Nolan opened his eyes. He looked over at me, meeting my gaze head on as if he knew I was here the whole time. The vein in my neck pounded, and I was frozen.

  Shit.

  He didn’t stop kissing her, though, holding my eyes as they moved together. Then…he winked at me, and I could see his smile through the kiss.

  I rolled my eyes and looked away. Great. Emory Scott was a pervert. That’s what he’d say. Just what I needed.

  I turned back to my locker, embarrassed, and slammed the door.

  Everything ached, and I arched my back, trying to stretch the muscles, but just as I turned around to leave, a fist came down and knocked my books out of my arms.

  I sucked in a breath, startled as I retreated a step on instinct.

  Miles Anderson glared at me as he passed, but a smirk curled his lips, too.

  “See something you like, stupid?” he taunted.

  I clenched my jaw, trying to get control of the pounding in my chest, but the sudden fright made my stomach roll as his friends followed him, laughing.

  His blond hair laid haphazardly over his forehead, while his blue eyes trailed down my form, and I knew exactly what he was taking stock of.

  The outdated plaid pattern of my secondhand skirt.

  The missing button on the cuff of my blouse that was two sizes too big.

  My faded blue blazer with little pieces of thread sticking off the patch-ups I had to do from the previous owner.