“Well, I hate to break it to you but it’s non-negotiable. This is potentially a once in a lifetime party so we’re all getting dressed up to go hunting.”
Again with the hunting metaphor.
But I need every type of distraction I can get. And I’m too tired to say differently.
“Okay, do whatever you want to me.”
“Oh, you’re not going to regret this.”
Almost two hours later, I do, in fact, regret it.
My hair has been teased so many times I can’t run my fingers through at the roots. I have trouble breathing the dress is so tight, and I can confirm that I am not a hoe because I’m freezing.
While my friends are towering over me in heels, I’m wearing a pair of black Converse. I tried to put on a pair of Daisy’s high heels but almost broke my face after one step. The flat-bottomed shoes are the one thing they allowed of me.
Tyler headed out to the party before we did, so it’s just Freddie who meets us at the end of the driveway leading up to the hotel. There’s a car at the end of the block with its passenger window rolled down. Freddie goes ahead to say something to the driver and then opens the back door for us to slide into.
“Ladies,” the driver, a young guy, says, “how are we doing tonight?”
There’s a round of goods.
The driver is quite chatty during the five minutes it takes for us to get to the house. And when we do, I think it’s safe to say we’re all in awe of it.
This town seems to be much more affluent than our town of Diablo.
The neighborhood we’re in reminds me of the Hale Manor, all of the houses looking like they come from old money, each one separated by at least half a mile of land.
As if reading my mind, Freddie whistles and says, “These houses shit on the Hales’.”
The three of us in the back nod in agreement.
“Private school kids have big money,” the driver says.
“You don’t go to Cornwall?” Daisy asks.
“Oh, yeah,” he says as he parks in front of one of the houses. “Scholarship kid though. The group hosting the party is paying me to shuttle tonight.”
“Cool, thanks, man.” Freddie fist bumps the drive and steps out to open our door.
I shiver as we step out into the chilled air. Daisy rubs my arms and takes my hand while Becca takes her boyfriend’s. The large stone house is wide and has three steps leading up to the porch. Music blares through the thick wood door and no one bothers to knock.
The door barely opens, bodies jam packed in every square inch of the house.
Freddie ushers us in and closes the door behind him.
Most of the faces we see, I don’t recognize.
No one looks at us as we slither through the crowd. Almost everyone is holding a red cup with either beer or some type of liquor.
No matter which direction we turn, there are people. There are girls dancing in the center of the living room, and there are boys and girls sitting on the sofas, smoking out of some type of pen. I don’t recognize the music blaring, but the further we get into the house, the more faces I begin to recognize.
Somehow, we make it into the kitchen and people are crowded around the countertops reaching for the liquor bottles.
A familiar head pops up through the crowd. “Yo, Freddie, get in here!”
Tyler’s face wavers as people maneuver around him. The only thing constantly visible is his hand in the air waving us over. Daisy takes my hand as she follows Becca and Freddie through the crowd.
“Not sure how I got here,” Tyler jokes from behind the counter, where he’s serving drinks.
Freddie fist bumps his friend. “I’m pretty sure they’re hazing you.”
Tyler laughs loud enough it’s actually audible over the music. “Joke’s on them, I’m taking their booze.”
Four red plastic cups are placed on the table. Tyler points to the one on the end and points to me. “Not as strong.”
I nod and take the cup, thanking him.
Sniffing it, I grimace. It’s definitely not beer and I’m afraid to even try it. But if it’ll make me forget my worries, I’ll try anything.
When my friends begin to drink from their cups, I follow suit. Everyone shudders and squeezes their eyes shut. I release a cough and gag at the same time, my throat on fire.
“Whoa!”
It’s foul.
Why people would want to do this for fun, I’m not sure. My stomach grows warm after the sip and I don’t know if I want to continue.
Daisy elbows my ribs and mouths, “Chug!”
I really don’t want to, but I do. Take in a large chug until almost half of it is gone. My cough returns as soon as I take the cup away from my lips.
I’m too busy focusing on not trying to puke to realize my friends are gone. By the time I look back up, Freddie, Becca, Daisy, and even Tyler are nowhere in sight.
Having nowhere to go, I backpedal until I’m away from the makeshift bar area.
I don’t stop until my back hits the wall.
Standing alone now, I simply observe. As faces pass by, I recognize a few out of the crowd as fellow students but they don’t see me. For once, I feel alone. Positive that no red eyes are following me through the crowd.
But the fact I can still remember what those dark eyes look like, means I’m not intoxicated enough. I hate every sip I take from the cup yet I can’t seem to stop.
The dress seems to be suffocating me the more I drink.
A girl passes in front of me with red hair and my heart stops beating. It’s a random girl. Not a teen murderer.
Calm down. I snap to myself. You’re acting crazy. They’re not here.
I knock back the rest of the drink, grimacing the entire time.
Another red cup is placed in front of my face and I have to tilt my head up to look at the person holding it.
“Hi,” the boy mouths.
I raise my empty cup in response. “Hi.”
The boy definitely doesn’t go to Diablo. I would recognize him.
He’s quite pretty.
Everything about this boy is a little too perfect. His hair is perfectly styled, his smile too wide, and even his eyebrows are perfectly shaped.
He leans down to whisper into my ear, “I brought you a refill.”
I take the cup and lean away from him. “Thank you.”
He smiles. “No problem. You’re from Diablo, right?”
I nod and stack the cup inside my empty one. There are plenty of them carelessly dropped onto the floor, but Grandmother taught me better. “Is it that obvious?”
The boy laughs and reaches out to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. I pull back before he’s able to touch me, watch as his hand falls back to his side. “No, but I would remember someone as pretty as you.”
I hide my frown behind the cup, taking another long sip. Stick my tongue out at its potency. “Whoa!”
He laughs and a drop of liquid falls down his chin. “Sorry, strong?”
I cough and snort. “Yeah, just a little.”
It’s an understatement. This drink was incredibly strong and filled to the brim. This is definitely going to be my last drink of the night. I don’t want to have another night of memories gone thanks to alcohol. I fully intend to “babysit” it, as Becca says about those who sip on the same drink for long periods of time. But first, I take another large gulp and grimace.
“What’s your name?” he yells.
“Calla.”
His large smile returns. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
Now it’s uncomfortable. It’s obvious he wants the version of me Daisy and Becca set up. “You’re charming,” I tell him as a fact, not a compliment.
He laughs instead. “You bring it out in me.”
I drink to avoid responding.
He has a wickedness in his eyes. One that tells me he knows how charming he is but I’ve seen worse. I’ve looked evil incarnate in the eye, yet this boy manages to make me mor
e uncomfortable than watching Lily spit out a human finger.
I look around the room, trying to find an escape. The faces that pass me are blurry. I blink. Blink again. But I don’t recognize anyone. I can barely see the person in front of me.
“So, you really think your team is going to win the game tomorrow?”
Game tomorrow…Game to-mo-rr-ow...
I wobble on my feet.
“You okay?” The boy asks, reaching out to steady me.
“Fine,” I say, pulling out of his grasp.
The boy laughs. “This is a party, there is no slowing down.”
He brings the cup to my lips, tilting my head up to force me to drink.
I try to fight back, push the cup out of my face but I can’t lift my arms.
Everything spins.
The once-perfect smile blurs. His lips move but I can’t seem to make the words out.
The piercing music starts to fade out. I can’t tell if I’m breathing.
One…Two…Three.
Breathe.
“I need…some…air…”
My head pounds and the crowd disappears one by one. My eyes home in on the back door, and I try to move my feet toward it but don’t even know if I’ll make it. With his arm wrapped around me, the boy drags me to the sliding glass door, and I feel like I’m floating across the floor.
My body is bumping into people left and right but I don’t have the strength to avoid them or even say I’m sorry.
When the fresh air hits my face, whatever is in my stomach threatens to rise up. If it weren’t for the support, I would have fallen on my face as my body heaves forward. I don’t know how I muster the strength, but I manage to put my hand over my mouth to keep from throwing up.
I dry heave.
“Jesus,” I hear above me.
Once I’m done, I let out a moan and feel my feet moving again. I’m slammed against a tree. The bark digs into my back through the thin layer of my dress.
Hot breath blasts over my face, its contrast against the wind making it humid against my skin. I groan and fight to keep my eyes open.
I manage to get my hands between the body leaning against me and try to push. “Get…off…me.”
“Shut up.”
The boy’s lips touch my cheek when I turn my head away and I know I’m in trouble. Now that we’re alone, he doesn’t try to fake.
He touches my hip and I shiver at the thought of what is going to happen. This is why my grandmother said never to do drugs. Because of something like this.
His hand tightens on my body while the other one grabs a chunk of hair at the base of my neck, angling it upwards as his mouth runs down my neck.
I want to fight. Like Aunt Polly taught me, but I can’t. I can’t move. Can’t even breathe.
Please, God, just let me get through this night okay.
I don’t remember the last time I was this desperate for someone to hear my prayers. Then I called out to the only one who I might answer me.
“Luke,” I manage to whisper. “Luke.”
If there were a physical being on this Earth who could save me in this exact moment, it would be Luke Hale.
Never did I think I’d be praying to the Devil’s son.
I slide down the tree, hiss when the bark scrapes my skin. My limp arm searches the ground for something, anything to grab onto.
My fingers manage to find a rock, small enough to fit into my palm but heavy enough it takes the last bit of strength I have to bring it up and over the boy’s head.
I hear the crack of bone.
Grunt when his body slams into me.
A single tear drop falls when the boy groans. It’s not the silence I was hoping for.
The boy pushes off me, making sure to press against my chest, stopping my breath.
“You stupid bitch, you hit me!”
His hand wraps around my throat. Squeezes.
My arms flail. Try to scrape at the body holding me hostage but can’t.
I fight to keep my eyes open. If he kills me, then I’ll be damned if my face doesn’t haunt him at night.
A static shock runs through the air. A pair of red eyes stalks toward us.
I laugh.
But it comes out as a gurgle.
“Oh, you like it rough, huh? I’m going to make you feel—” He lets out the most unmanly squeal I’ve ever heard as he’s yanked away from me.
I slide down the tree until my butt is on the wet grass. My dress pools around my waist but I don’t have the strength to pull it down.
Luke holds up my attacker by the throat, his feet dangling off the ground.
The boy struggles against Luke’s hold, clawing at the hand wrapped around his neck.
“Please, man, I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was here with someone. I’ll-I’ll give you money, just let me go.”
Luke sighs pleasantly at the blue faced boy, his feet still hanging in the air. “You look like a screamer, and I love screamers.”
A deep growl slithers through the trees and a shiver runs up my spine.
I turn my chin to face the red orbs that have been following me since day one.
Low to the ground is a smoky creature, the red eyes inches from my face. Its almost translucent body is shaped like a mountain lion, massive paws falling heavily onto the wet ground. Heat radiates off the creature, burning so hot in contrast to the cool air that mist swirls off the body.
My throat feels tight, not able to even draw in a gasp.
“I’ll see you in Hell,” Luke says and tosses the boy’s body onto the ground. He lands with a heavy thud at the feet of the creature.
Its smoky jaws close around the boy’s leg and yank. He shrieks.
Dirt splatters on my face as he kicks out with his free leg, trying to crawl away. He looks back, completely panicked, and I know that he can’t see it. Much like Tyler couldn’t the night we were in the gazebo at the Hale Manor.
I wish upon him all of the fear in the world and take pleasure in knowing if he doesn’t die here tonight, he’ll spend the rest of his life questioning his own sanity over this very moment. It’s my turn to haunt someone’s dreams.
A gust of wind washes over me as the creature shakes its head, tearing at the limb. There’s no blood, but there’s an unmistakable sound of ripping flesh.
Strong hands haul me up from the floor, cradling me into a warm chest.
I can’t speak. Only pant.
“I’ve got you.”
A sharp pain runs through me and my body tightens. The pain of a million needles jabs at my skin, the sting making me feel on fire.
Like I’m burning alive. A silent scream on my face.
The stars are so beautiful.
A burst of stark white against the navy sky.
If I could move my arms, I’d try to reach out to it.
My head is lying on a soft cloud as I struggle to catch my breath. A small pool of drool slips out from the corner of my locked jaw. Barely able to pant through the pain in my throat.
The aftermath of whatever Luke’s just done to me still lingers on my skin. My body twitches as the pain dulls.
I have no idea where I am. Or how I’ve gotten here.
Luke carefully laid me on my back, so I’m looking up at a glass ceiling. The dim light in the room makes the stars stand out in the distance.
Heavy footsteps coming up what sounds like a set of stairs. Eventually, a hand cups the back of my head, lifting me up just enough to sip from a cup. I shake my head, wanting to fight against the drink. I don’t want to drink again. No more.
“It’s water, it’s just water.”
Luke’s voice breaks through my haze. I struggle to swallow, almost drown when it pools in my throat. The water gurgles in my throat but I’m eventually able to get it down.
After, Luke pulls me into his lap, sitting in the center of the large bed.
He pushes the hair out of my face, supporting the back of my neck so I’m looking up at him.
“I�
�m going to make it better, okay? But it’s going to hurt.”
What’s going to—?
Luke’s hand encases my neck. His fingers flexing against my carotid artery.
Instead of the squeezing I expected, it’s a different kind of pain.
The kind of pain that comes from alcohol on a wound. The burn before the healing can begin.
Somehow, he manages to reverse the pain. Take it away as if it never happened. As if the boy was never there. Completely erasing his touch.
The suffocating swelling in my throat goes down. A large breath of air finally able to makes its way down to my lungs. My torso violently shakes from the vicious cough that rips through me.
The haziness from my mind and my vision seem to clear along with it, though my head still hurts. Soulful eyes look down at me. The hand around my throat slides up the column of my neck. His thumb wipes away a tear.
My body goes lax in his arms. Exhaustion floods through me.
Now able to move on my own, I get the shakes. The realization of what could have happened to me tonight comes oozing out of me. Luke only tightens his hold on me and doesn’t let go until I manage one word: Cold.
With a single swift move, he slides off the bed with me still in his arms. As his long legs carry us across the room, I’m finally able to look around.
We’re in a cabin made up almost entirely of glass. We must be deep in the woods, because all I can see are twinkling lights running across a wooden canopy outside.
We glide across the wood floor; his echoing footsteps emphasize our isolation.
In the bathroom larger than my entire apartment, he doesn’t set me down until the glass doors of the shower are steaming from the warm water.
I shiver when my bare feet touch the floor.
Luke tries to help unzip my dress but I freeze.
“It’s okay,” he says in a soft voice. “It’s me. I’ve got you.”
Though the words are meant to be comforting, I still have a sickening feeling of not knowing who this person is. And yet I find myself indebted to him once again.
Luke lowers the zipper halfway, allowing me to finish. He gives me his back for privacy. I eye him, wanting him to leave but knowing he won’t.
The dress fights me all the way down, having molded to my body.
With the glass completely fogged up, I gingerly step into the shower, trusting he won’t turn peek.
The Devil's Heir Page 20