Ill Will

by Cate Corvin

  He gave me a grin that looked a little forced. “Just dead from exam prep. Second semester is when it gets real. This is the last big party before we have to buckle down.”

  God, he was right. After this, we’d all be cramming for real-world final exams. Club Bathory would become a distant dream.

  The gold-and-topaz chandeliers overhead flickered, and a group of freshmen gasped. A glass shattered a moment later when the lights went out entirely.

  “Here we go,” Will muttered.

  Sickly, greenish-yellow light bloomed in the rear of the ballroom, and a massive shape unfurled as it grew, resolving into a skull-faced creature in a black cloak. It held out a staff topped with a lantern and banged it on the floor three times.

  The noise echoed through the ballroom like thunder and a freshman girl shrieked.

  “Welcome to Libra Academy’s 231st Samhain Ball!” Death announced in Burns’ echoing voice. “We invite our dead to join us on this night until the break of dawn! Dance among the living and make merry!”

  For a single second, my heart stuttered as black-robed shapes glided through the ballroom, like Burns had managed to call the shades of death out of the grave to join us. One got close enough that I realized they were solid- not a real ghost among them at all. They were Libra alumni who came back just for the annual Samhain celebration.

  Burns slammed his staff one more time and the same eerie fox-fire lights flickered on around the room, casting us all in a deathly glow. Music blasted through the hall, humming in my bones. He swept off his skull mask and Knightley handed a bottle of beer up to him without moving from his chair.

  Apolline was already dancing with one of the black-robed alumni, wearing a dress as scandalous as any she’d worn to Club Bathory, but her blue eyes cut my way, flickering over Will and Sura.

  My stomach swooped, even with a glass of wine to settle my nerves. Within half an hour, most of Libra was drunk. A group of freshmen girls had formed a ring around the pond, which was glowing pale blue under a blacklight orb, already drunk off contraband whisky Burns was turning a blind eye to.

  I danced with Sura, my strange sense of disquiet growing as the party around us grew wilder and more raucous.

  Apolline finally abandoned her dance partner to down a glass of water. She pulled a cell phone out of her wristlet and glanced at the screen with a vicious little smirk that became a wide, gleeful grin.

  Others were taking out phones too, some with expressions of confusion and disgust, others laughing, the sound lost against the music.

  I realized I was alone. I’d been so distracted watching Apolline, I hadn’t even noticed Sura and Will had vanished.

  My stepbrother’s ex-girlfriend looked up at me, still grinning, and loped over to hook our arms together. “Bathroom,” she whispered in my ear, dragging me into the dark, away from the foxfire lights.

  She herded me into a bathroom that was all stark white marble, big enough to house a crowd. “You really took it to the next level, didn’t you, Trailer Trash? Daddy Godalming’s going to be so curious to know what kind of education his money’s been paying for.” Apolline slapped her phone into my palm, a video already pulled up on the screen.

  I was light-headed, my heart pounding so fast it filled my entire chest as I watched myself suck Will’s cock like a starving woman, with Sura’s disembodied hands squeezing my ass as he pounded into me.

  The camera had been placed precisely so it was obviously my face, my mouth wrapped around my stepbrother, my clan necklace in plain sight. Even worse was the audio, the choked moans and finally the pleading for more when Will slid himself from between my lips.

  “I’d say at least eighty grand went to your double penetration education,” Will said. “That’s for one semester, Podunk. Glad to see you spent it in a worthwhile position.”

  I almost dropped the phone. He’d come in silently, flanked by Beatrice, Lydia, and Sura. The sole Lux member gave me a nasty grin, her lips and nose still swollen from my fists.

  Sura didn’t meet my eyes. He just stared at the floor.

  “You sent this to everyone.” My voice sounded like it came from another person, breathless and hurt.

  “Everyone who matters.” My stepbrother slid his hands in his pockets with a shrug. “Now they all know exactly what you are.”

  As if on cue, Beatrice and Apolline threw themselves at me. I acted without thinking, smashing the phone into the side of Apolline’s head, but her fist caught me in my stomach and when I doubled over, Beatrice smashed her knee into my face.

  White-hot pain exploded in my head. Blood spattered the floor, painfully crimson against the white marble, staining it forever.

  Apolline squealed when I recovered long enough to get a handful of her hair and shove her into the wall, using all my body weight to slam her into it, but Beatrice and Lydia grabbed hold of my hair and arms, tossing me to the ground and raining blows on me.

  It seemed endless, a torrent of fists as I curled up in a ball. A clump of hair was ripped out by the roots, flaring through my skull, and someone- Beatrice, I thought- kicked me in the side hard enough to steal my breath.

  “Don’t kill her, you stupid bitch.” Will’s voice was as sharp and cutting as glass. “Get off her, Glover.”

  The blows finally stopped. Heels clattered on the bathroom floor, and a dark shadow bent over me. My eyelids cracked open to see Will, whose gaze lingered on my split lip, seeping blood over my chin and chest in a red torrent.

  I coughed, spitting blood. “You fucker.” My tongue stung, cut open by Lydia’s blows.

  “I told you to stay home, Podunk Princess. To go back where you came from.” He touched my cheek in an almost gentle gesture, and his voice dropped, his next words just for me. “You had this coming, Victoria. Snake that you are, it was only right that you meet your own kind. I should’ve left you in the pit with them. I thought you might feel right at home.”

  I blinked blood out of my eyes, unable to form words through the fog of pain and rage.

  “You remember Michèle Godalming’s face?” He cocked his head, examining me with the same intensity a bird of prey might give roadkill. All I could do was jerk my head to the side in a quick no. “Of course you don’t. You are the reason there’s nothing left of her. You, Victoria. You didn’t stop for a single second to consider what you were walking in on. Life with Father isn’t all horseback rides and training and fucking movie night. It’s watching her headstone get ripped out of the ground like she was so much trash. It’s watching every last trace of someone you loved get thrown on a bonfire because the pathetic sad-sack he married couldn’t stand knowing whose shoes she had to fill. It’s knowing that every photo of her, every word she wrote, went up in smoke because of you.”

  I took a shuddering breath, gagging as blood ran down the back of my throat in a hot, wet trickle. Percival had held a bonfire that summer, but… what the fuck did that have to do with Will’s mom?

  Understanding clicked in my brain, as loud as a gunshot. Before the wedding, Mom had come down with a panic attack. We were trailer trash, after all, and she was marrying a goddamn millionaire. Even Mom knew that life wasn’t a Cinderella story.

  I’d confided in my soon-to-be stepfather about Mom’s fears, that she was worried she wouldn’t measure up to his standards, to the family name. Percival had patted my shoulder, giving me the crinkle-eyed smile Mom had fallen in love with, and told me he’d take care of it, it’d all be okay. That his Connie had nothing to fear.

  I didn’t know he’d burned everything to do with Will’s dead mother. That she’d had a grave there.

  “Will, I didn’t know-” But he pressed his finger to my lips.

  “The time for excuses is long past, Victoria. You know what it’s like now.” A distant part of me couldn’t believe I’d ever thought he looked cold before. That was nothing compared to the Arctic tundra of his eyes now, like frosted shards of glass. “I never intended for it to happen, but there’s a strange poetic
justice in it. James for Michèle.”

  Hot fury exploded under the pain and I struggled to sit up, clawing at Will’s face. “You shit-eating bastard-”

  Beatrice and Apolline grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down, delicately avoiding the sprays of blood. Will reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash… and a small vial full of a clear liquid.

  “Payment for services rendered, Beatrice. You can fuck off after this.” Will handed the Lux girl the cash and held up the vial so I had a good look at it. “You’re an embarrassment to the family. I never told you how glad I was that you didn’t take the Godalming name. If I had to see it tattooed around your neck with the rest of your trash-clan mark, I’d be sick. And after tonight, there’s no way you’ll be permitted to continue your education here. Should’ve dropped out with a clean slate while you had the chance, Holmwood.”

  Even though I knew there’d be no help from him, I looked at Sura desperately, struggling against the full weight of Apolline and Beatrice holding me down. His lips were drawn back over his teeth in a grimace, fists balled at his side. “Sura! Don’t let them do this!”

  Lydia grabbed my head and slid her hands around my chin. I snapped, trying to bite her fingers, but she stayed out of reach and pried my jaw open, nails digging into my cheeks.

  Sura looked away. Will uncapped the vial and tipped it over my open mouth.

  Whatever the liquid was, it tasted like thick, caramelized vanilla, sliding down my throat with a trail of heat. Lydia snapped my jaw shut, clamped her hand over my mouth, and pinched my nose shut.

  I struggled until I saw black roses bloom in front of my eyes, but I eventually gave in and swallowed.

  A gush of heat filled my stomach, sizzling outward to fill my limbs, and the heavy sensation of needing to touch everything, needing to be touched, consumed my mind. There was nothing else, just the swollen ache between my legs and my panting breath.

  I needed to fuck him, no matter how much I hated him. That emotion was distant and unimportant when what mattered was having his hands all over me, his cock sliding into my pussy…

  Even the sensation of the other girls holding me down was almost orgasmic. I reached up to touch Apolline’s hand, sparks flying through me everywhere our skin touched, and gasped, my back arching.

  Will stood up, capped the vial, and I distantly heard the sound of glass clinking against porcelain and a toilet flushing. He surveyed me with a cold look. “Push me harder,” I muttered to Beatrice, my words slurred between panting breaths.

  They hauled me upright. Nothing hurt anymore; not when everything felt so good, cool against my feverish skin. “Are you going to fuck me?” I asked Sura, stumbling towards him.

  He gripped my wrists, holding me away from him, looking away like he couldn’t stand to see me.

  “Push her out there,” Will said, opening the door. “Let her make a fool of herself and record everything.”

  Sura pulled me into the darkness of the ballroom, all spinning, dizzying lights and foxfire, and shoved me into a crowd.

  Someone caught me and I moaned, wrapping my arms around their neck and writhing against them.

  Knightley stumbled back into a table, his hands on my shoulders holding me back. “Miss Holmwood, what in the Nine Hells are you doing?”

  I couldn’t stand the feeling of this constricted dress scratching against my hyper-sensitive skin anymore. With a quick zip, the lung-crushing, offensive material was gone, peeled away like gossamer.

  I breathed a sigh of relief, running my hands over myself and shivering from my own touch. Headmaster Burns dropped a tankard of beer from where he sat behind the staff table, talking to a young freshman professor I’d never seen before. I stalked forward and climbed up on the table on my hands and knees, touching the Headmaster’s face.

  He wasn’t what I wanted. Not young and strong enough to give me what I needed. I turned my attention to the younger professor, who was frozen in his seat, his gaze flicking down over my mostly-naked form.

  “Come fuck me,” I whispered, running my fingers through his hair. “I need you.”

  He had a phone in his hand, the screen dimmed, but I knew that video. I’d just seen it myself, after all. I grinned through the blood, the caramelized heat in my veins dulling all pain. “You can have that, you and your friends. Come on, I have all the pussy you need.”

  He swallowed hard, his eyes flicking from my bloodied face to my naked, swollen breasts, and Headmaster Burns stood up, peeling off his cloak.

  Thank god, someone was finally going to help me. I was going to burn up, twisting in pain, if I didn’t come soon.

  “Hold her arms, Knightley,” he commanded, holding up the cloak. Powerful hands gripped my arms and I convulsed, almost falling off the table, and ground my ass against whoever was holding me.

  “Don’t do anything you’ll regret, Miss Holmwood,” Knightley said, sounding grimmer than usual, and the Headmaster tried to throw the cloak over me.

  I twisted away, sliding to the floor and breaking Knightley’s grasp. He didn’t want to touch my bare skin, a fact that almost made me sob. Didn’t they see how I was burning up inside without someone touching me, how painful it was?

  A dark pair caught my eye: Will and Sura. Apolline held a phone, recording my antics, but Will’s scowl fractured into an uneasy grimace. He strode forward, holding his jacket out like Burns.

  I couldn’t let him catch me. Even through the haze of lust, I knew I had to get away.

  I stumbled to my feet, losing both shoes and cloak, and pushed through the crowd. “Tori!” His shout sounded like a hundred miles away under the music, tinged with panic. “Grab her!”

  Some people moved aside, but others reached out, hands surreptitiously touching my ass or breasts, and every time I felt fingers on flesh, I moaned out loud, stumbling. I needed someone in me to take away this agony.

  The doors were wide open.

  Will shouted something, lost in the music and laughter, but I fled into the night before they could torture me more.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ________

  TORI

  My bare feet should’ve ached. My split lip should’ve been stinging. The air should’ve been chilly against my bare skin, but everything was hot and pulsing.

  I stumbled down an alley, running into the brick walls and opening scratches in my shoulders that felt like nothing at all, and someone blocked the exit. A burly man with hard eyes, wearing a ripped, stained hoodie. “What’s this?”

  My feet stopped, like part of my brain knew this was wrong. The rest of me wasn’t there. I ran my hands over my breasts, my nipples hardening under my touch. He wasn’t quite right, not what the sweetness in my veins was telling me I needed… but he’d do for now.

  “Will you fuck me?” The thought of him shoving me up against the brick wall and ramming into me filled my mind, and I took another step forward.

  His eyes flicked up to someone in the alley behind me. Another human guy. I needed to feel hard, pounding flesh so bad I’d even take a human right now, anything but this empty torment.

  “What’s the catch? A hot chick covered in blood shows up and wants to fuck us?” I turned to stare at the new guy, holding back a snarl. What was the catch? The only catch was that they probably couldn’t take me hard enough to satisfy the aching need.

  “The fuck’s your problem, Ron? It’s called opportunity. Come here, babycakes, I’ll help you out.” Dirty Hoodie gestured towards me in a come-on, and I gratefully stepped forward with a hissed intake of breath, looping my fingers in my panties to slide them down. Oh, thank fuck, just one small respite in this want… and yet, a small voice railed in the back of my head. I didn’t want this. I’d rather die than do this.

  But it didn’t matter, not with that sweet syrup running through me.

  “I dunno, John. Something seems fucked about this. Why’s she bloody?”

  Hoodie glared at him. “Shut your mouth or get the fuck out.”


  John slunk away, which probably saved his life.

  Hoodie’s lips split into a grin as he reached down to unbuckle his belt.

  A huge blur hit Hoodie like a train, and he made a low, flat sound as the shape drove him backwards into a dumpster. He slumped to the ground, a massive hole gaping in the back of his skull, eyes blank and unfocused.

  Càel stared at me, his brow creased, lips drawn back over his teeth. His eyes ran over me from head to toe, taking in the crusted blood even while his nostrils flared. “Victoria?”

  This time, when my body responded to the sight and sound of a male presence, everything responded, not just my pussy. It was like fireworks going off in my brain when I saw Càel, relief and pure, clean lust welling up under the urgency.

  “Càel!” I ran to him, jumping up to throw my arms around his neck. Somehow, I knew I was safe. Safe, and with someone who could help me. “Take me home. I need you.” My god, I needed him so bad. Why was I so stubborn about taking what I wanted? All it took was this sweet venom to make me see how stupid I’d been.

  Instead of running his hands over me like I wanted, he gently held my chin. I tried to kiss him when he drew close, but he just sniffed my mouth and scowled harder, if that was possible.

  The fact that he looked coldly furious and had just smeared a human’s brains all over a dumpster didn’t matter. He was huge, sexy as fuck, and I wanted him. Just the sensation of my hardened nipples brushing against his chest was sending zips of pleasure through my nerves.

  “Where did you find incubus saliva, mo shíorghrá?”

  I had no idea what he was on about, only that his perfectly carved lips would be even better served buried between my legs. “I want you to fuck me senseless now, Càel,” I told him breathlessly, sliding my hand under his shirt and finding the perfect ridges of a chiseled abdomen, before sliding down. “I need you to fill me. All. The way. Up.”

  I ran my fingers over the huge bulge in the front of his jeans, and the inferno ripped through my veins. I needed this man.