by Katie May
There’s no guilt in her gaze. No pity. It’s colder than even Lucas’s as she regards me with haughty distaste. “I figured that was a possibility when I created the hex—”
“Get the fuck out of my house.” The voice doesn’t come from me, though it’s exactly what I want to say.
Nana appears in the doorway to the kitchen, her entire body shaking. Her face is red and blotchy as if she has been crying, and her violet hair is frazzled, long strands sticking in every direction.
When Mom—I mean, Darlene—makes no move to leave, Nana rushes forward, shoving at her chest.
“Get out of my house. Now!”
Wind whips my long, stringy hair around my face, and the floor begins to shake as Nana’s own power joins mine. More lights begin to shatter in an explosion of glass. I feel strong arms wrap around me protectively, shielding me. The leather visible over my chest allows me to see that it’s Elias.
“Ryan, come!” Darlene stomps towards the door, pausing to wait for the wiry warlock to open it for her. She glances back only once, her eyes a burning brand against my forehead. “I’ll be back later for your decision.”
And then she’s gone.
And I’ve never felt more hollow or alone than I do in that moment.
...
I can’t talk to the guys. Fuck, I can’t even look at them. All I can do is practically shove them out the door, desperate to be alone with my tumultuous thoughts.
Darlene hexed the guys? She was behind their bullying?
My head begins to throb as confusion and pain war for dominance. I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, unable to recognize myself now that my hands are coated red in the name of my revenge. Because these Devils? They weren’t meant to bleed. Not by my hands, at the very least.
How can this be? How can my entire life be flipped on its head in a span of seconds?
I know that the Devils aren’t all sunshine and roses. There’s a darkness to them, one that I recognize in myself. I have no doubt that they’re capable of unspeakable cruelty, but at the same time…
How much of what happened in middle school was a product of my mother’s spell? How much was real? Did they truly want to hurt me, or did Darlene’s spell make them channel all of their pent-up anger and rage onto me?
At one point, Nana knocks on the bathroom door, asking if we can talk, but I ignore her. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I just want to stare blindly at the water-stained wall in front of me and feel my heart shrivel into dust.
Pain.
So much pain.
It’s like fire ants are crawling through my veins. I want to cry, but my eyes seem incapable of it. I think I cried too much recently and now my tear ducts are empty.
I slowly slide to the ground and wrap my arms around my knees. Staring. Just staring. I don’t even know what, exactly, I’m looking at.
When there’s another knock, only a half hour later, I jump to my feet and storm to the door, throwing it open hard enough that it careens against the wall.
“What?” I bellow, expecting to see Nana. Instead I see…no one. I glance in both directions, but the hall is empty. It’s only then that I notice the object lying demurely on the ground.
A peony flower made of paper.
My curiosity getting the better of me, I bend down and rub it against my cheek. The amount of work someone did to create something so intricate…
On one of the petals, I notice words written in ink. I have to strain my eyes in order to read them.
Where the green ends.
Where the green ends? What the hell is that supposed to mean? And who sent it?
I narrow my eyes suspiciously at the innocent-looking flower, running the tips of my fingers over the soft edges. The resemblance to a peony is almost uncanny. From the green stem to the pink flower unfurling at the tip. It’s beautiful, and unlike real flowers, it’ll never die.
Whoever sent this just made me immortal.
Where the green ends…
My feet begin to move before my brain can catch up, bypassing the kitchen and dining room until I’m standing on the back porch.
Where the green ends…
My eyes latch on to the manicured lawn that gives way to a forest of maples interspersed with oaks, all currently leafless.
Where the green ends…
Feeling almost euphoric at my discovery, I race barefoot through the grass, loving the way the soft strands prick my skin, and stop at the edge, where green grass transitions into rough dirt.
I glance in both directions, smiling smugly when a splash of pink captures my attention.
I hurry forward and grasp the green stem of a second paper flower. Like before, there’s a note written on the leaf.
Where the sun is a triangle.
Where the sun is a…?
Oh.
Quick as lightning, I run back into the house and climb the ladder leading to my attic space. Directly behind my bed is the tiny, triangular window that looks out into the driveway. And on that ledge is a third flower.
Golden stars.
Golden stars? I scour my memory for anything that has golden stars in it but come up blank. I even type it into my phone, wondering if it’s a location I’ve never heard about before.
Nothing.
Golden stars.
Golden stars.
Golden stars.
I begin to pace, ducking when I come too close to a precariously hanging rafter.
Golden stars.
Golden stars.
Golden stars.
A memory hits me seemingly out of nowhere.
“Can I play?” I asked tentatively as I stared at the four large boys standing before me.
The redheaded one, Lucas, smiled brightly, showing off his missing tooth. I didn’t think it was fair. I still had yet to have a loose tooth.
“Sure.” He tossed me the basketball, which I caught easily.
“Do you know how to play?” the biggest one queried. He had dark, obsidian skin and brown eyes that twinkled when he smiled. His black hair hung in loose waves down to the nape of his neck.
“Like this?” I awkwardly began to bounce the ball, wincing when it got away from me and rolled into the grass.
Karsyn, the kind one with an easygoing grin and tangled blond hair, hurried to retrieve it.
“Good job,” Elias said softly. I knew I was awful, but his praise made a smile rise to my face regardless.
We played for only a few minutes before Cassian groaned, throwing his head back against the basketball pole.
“I need to get going,” he announced, dropping the ball. “Mom said I needed to be home for dinner by six. Elias, you still coming?”
“Yeah,” the brown-haired boy said, nodding. “Lucas? Karsyn? Peony?”
“I need to be going home,” Karsyn cut in, lifting his shirt up to wipe sweat off his face. My eyes caught a glimpse of his slender stomach, and heat instantly rose to my cheeks. I glanced away before he could catch me ogling. Boys were stupid and ugly, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t curious.
As Cassian and Elias left in one direction and Karsyn in another, I found myself alone with Lucas Scott. Something about that boy always intimidated me. He wasn’t the largest in the group—to be completely honest, he was the smallest—but his eyes were archaic, almost as if he had seen too much, too soon.
An old soul, Nana would tell me.
He was only eight, and life already chipped away at his innocence. There was something hard in his eyes, like a keen knife that was beginning to rust over.
“You want to come home with me and see my room?” Lucas asked, sounding eager. And all thoughts of him being an old soul vanished. He looked extremely young just then. Innocent.
At my timid nod, he grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the park. Mom’s driver had dropped me off an hour or so ago and wouldn’t be back to pick me up until later tonight. As long as I was in the park before eight, she’d never know I left.
The thou
ght of pulling one over on her, of doing something naughty, made me grin. I no longer dragged my feet into the ground as Lucas led me towards the largest house on the block.
I only had a second to marvel over the gigantic home with more balconies and windows than I could count, before Lucas dragged me inside. A regal looking man in a tailored black suit and white gloves nodded at us when we entered. Lucas merely waved his hand back in greeting.
The redheaded boy led me up a twisting staircase until we reached the second, maybe third, level of the house.
“You live in a castle,” I marveled as we stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall.
“Does that mean you’re the princess?” His lips twitched in a teasing grin.
“No, silly. It’s your house. You’re the princess…or prince.”
“And what does that make you?” He pushed open the door, stepping back to let me through first.
“The dragon!” I roared at him, and he threw his head back in laughter. I began laughing too, until it dried in my throat. My mouth popped open in shock. “Lucas…”
“My daddy never takes me camping,” Lucas whispered, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his tone. “But I always wanted to sleep under the stars.”
He reached behind him to flip off the light switch, and immediately, the room turned dark. Before I could get scared, the tiny stars plastered on the ceiling began to turn on one by one, engulfing the room in a yellowish-tint.
“Golden stars,” I whispered dreamily. I didn’t need to see him to know that he would be smiling as well.
“Golden stars,” he agreed.
I shake my head, clearing the remnants of the memory from my mind, as I stare at the flower in my hand.
Golden stars.
Lucas.
Quickly, I change into a sweater and blue jeans, throw on a pair of socks and shoes, and race outside.
And there he is, standing in my driveway with a bouquet of paper peonies in his hands.
He looks dashing in his teal sweater and khaki pants, his red hair brushed away from his elegant face. His eyes sweep over me slowly, as if he wishes to devour me, as he extends the hand holding the paper flowers.
“I thought we could go on our date tonight beneath the stars,” he says simply.
“Lucas…” My body begins to tremble, both because of his grand gesture and my mother’s words. It was never truly him, was it? The bullying, the teasing, the pranks. It was always her.
“But then I figured that you needed all of us more than you needed just me, and I refuse to be selfish with you any longer.” He takes a step around the side of the house, obscuring himself from view, and I hurry to follow him.
Standing in the backyard are all four of my Devils.
Elias steps forward with his hands raised, a wary and guarded expression on his face
“I think we all need to talk.”
Chapter 50
I swallow heavily, feeling suddenly very small, as I’m surrounded by the four of them.
“We need to talk about this, sweetheart,” Cassian whispers, and the term of endearment makes tears spring to my eyes. Fuck, I’m a hot mess. An emotional, wrecking ball of feelings.
I hate it.
“You want to…” A bark of laughter erupts from my chest. “You want to talk? I…I…” My head starts to shake, even as I begin to step backwards. Retreating. Always retreating. Because despite my bravado, I’m a coward, just like my mother. I run from things when they get hard, and sooner or later, people will stop chasing me. It may not be today. Hell, it may not even be tomorrow. But the time will come when I’m truly and completely and irrevocably alone. I’ll have no one to blame but myself.
I break into a run before I can think better of it, retreating back inside of the house.
“Peony!” Elias. I’d recognize his raspy voice anywhere.
I make it to the ladder and begin to climb when I feel a hand caress my ankle. Tilting my head down, I see all four Devils standing directly underneath me, expressions unreadable.
“Please,” Lucas pleads softly, and I can’t resist. I don’t want to. Lucas has never in his life begged for anything, but he’s doing it now for me. To just listen. To talk. I can do that, right? I can listen to them.
I’ve only just nodded when all four of them rush to the ladder at the same time. Cassian releases a growl when Lucas jams an elbow into his chest.
“Ow, you fucker. Be careful.”
“This is my date,” Lucas says calmly as he begins to climb. He reaches the top of the hole just as I pull myself over the edge, collapsing on the wooden boards.
“You coerced her into it,” Cassian argues as his head pops up next, eyes lighting up as he surveys my room. “It doesn’t count.”
“Yes it does,” Lucas mumbles in irritation, brushing nonexistent dust off of his clothes. He eyes the room with a barely concealed grimace, gaze lingering on the collection of dust on the highest rafter. His lips tighten as he stares at my small bed, before a tiny smile appears on his face. I follow the direction of his eyes to see he’s looking at the three peonies I collected during the impromptu scavenger hunt. He doesn’t make a comment, though, as he moves to gingerly sit on a rocking chair in the corner of the attic.
“I don’t think this room was designed for big people,” Karsyn huffs, bending forward to avoid hitting his head on one of the numerous wooden rafters. He shuffles forward until he’s able to sit on my bed beside a nosy Cassian, who’s currently rifling through my nightstand. Only Elias remains standing, his back hunched slightly in order to fit.
“You can’t go through her drawers!” Karsyn exclaims, whacking Cassian on the back of his head.
“Do you not keep the dildos in your nightstand?” Cassian asks me, sounding genuinely affronted.
“No,” I deadpan. “I use the real thing.”
The teasing smile on Cassian’s face instantly fades as he releases a low growl.
“You know how we feel about you talking about other cocks, sweetheart,” he snaps. “Especially the cock of that dumb fuck.”
“Her fiancé’s?” Elias raises an eyebrow, even as anger hardens his eyes.
“Worst. Her ex-boyfriend, Uriel.” Cassian mock shudders.
“Uriel and Ryan are actually brothers,” I point out helpfully as I move to sit crisscross on the plush rug in front of my chest.
“Brothers?” Cassian gasps dramatically. “Well I’ll be damned, my little spitfire. Why wasn’t I invited to that sandwich?” He pauses, left eye twitching, before a severe frown creases his brow. “On second thought, I don’t want to see that dumb fuck touching you, so we’ll save the threesomes for later, m’kay?”
“Enough.” Lucas doesn’t yell, but he doesn’t need to. I always thought the guys deferred to him because he was bossy and demanding, and while that’s true, it’s not the whole story. Power radiates from Lucas, and even I feel an undeniable pull towards him that demands I do as he says. I would almost describe it as…respect. Desire to do as he wishes. If we were considered a wolf pack, there’s no doubt in my mind that Lucas would be the alpha. “We need to discuss what happened with Peony’s mom.”
This is the exact conversation I was dreading. I don’t even know how to begin to respond. Do I apologize for everything I did in the name of revenge? Do I beg them for forgiveness? Do I even deserve it? I bring my fists up to my eyes and scrub at them desperately, almost as if I can dispel the last few hours from my mind completely.
“Peony…” Lucas’s voice is gentler than I ever remember hearing it. “Do you want to start?”
I shake my head rapidly, feeling my heart crack like fine porcelain. I feel tears wetting my fists, but I refuse to drop my hands. I’m nothing if not stubborn, and I’ll go to hell before I let another tear fall.
“Peony, maybe you should—”
I cut Karsyn off, still refusing to lift my head. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Silence descends, almost as if the world itself is holding its
breath.
My tongue snakes out to lick my upper lip as I think about what to say, how to articulately express how sorry I truly am.
“We say that to each other a lot, don’t we?” I chuckle darkly. “Apologize. It seems as if we can never stop hurting one another.”
“It’s not your fucking fault—” Cassian begins.
“But it is!” I finally drop my hands and lift my head, clenching and unclenching my fists. Every muscle in my body coils tight, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. “I put you guys through hell because of what you did to me, and come to find out, it wasn’t even your fault.” I release another dry, humorless laugh. Even to my own ears, it doesn’t quite sound right. It’s too…broken.
Is that what I am? Broken? I always knew I would lose myself in this quest for vengeance, but never like this. It feels as if I’m missing too many pieces for the puzzle to ever be complete.
“I felt like shit for the things I did,” I confess, scratching absently at my arm. And then, when licks of pain shoot across my skin, I relish in it, digging my nails in even harder. “And I had more planned. A lot more. I wanted you all to pay for everything you did to me. And now I’m sitting here in front of you, feeling fucking broken and empty, and I don’t even know if I want your forgiveness. Well…” Blood begins to well on my arm. “That’s a lie. I do want your forgiveness, but I don’t deserve it.”
“We feel the exact same way, princess,” Karsyn says gently from somewhere behind me on the bed. “We now understand the reasoning for our…extreme rage towards you.” Hatred laces his tone, and I know it’s directed at my mother, not me. He’s no doubt thinking about everything he put me through, every scar on my skin. For years, I blamed the four men sitting in this room, but now I know where that blame truly lies. It’s maddening and confusing and frustrating. My head swirls with thousands of thoughts, but trying to grasp only one is like telling an ocean wave that it can’t return to the shore. “Despite everything, we’re still the ones who put you through that hell. We’re still to blame.”