Page 43 of The Devil Takes

Most of the time, Haden was in his office like he’d been the first time I’d visited. He’d glance up from his papers, push them aside, and greet me with a look that was both amused and tentative. Like he was surprised to see me, pleased too, but apprehensive.

He never spoke about his offer for me to stay though, even though he was always eager to touch.

Gods don’t share their play things. That’s what he’d murmured to me as I’d writhed in ecstasy, my body twisted up in his silken sheets. I didn’t feel like much of a play thing, though, despite his words.

“Why?” Haden had asked once when I’d popped up beside him as he traipsed down a dark, candlelit hallway. I could hear the click, clack skuttle of something just around the bend, my pulse thrumming with fear as Haden caught a glimpse of the bandage I kept taped religiously over my bond mark, and quickly distracted me. Usually I’d wear a turtleneck too. Double layers of protection against prying eyes. I ignored the fact that I usually showed up naked when I visited him, that the bandage being present at all was an anomaly. Maybe something lurking behind the cage protecting my heart had wanted him to see.

To see the parts of me I was ashamed of and welcome me back anyway.

I knew he was a figment of my imagination, but I still sought his comfort.

Haden hadn’t looked offended, just curious as he reached out to trace his thumb over the edge of the bandage. He was always so gentle, until he wasn’t. The thought made me grin, and I’d shuddered, offering him my neck, the tingle of his fingertips soothing the itch beneath my skin.

“Why, what?” I’d played dumb.

“Are you ashamed?” he’d asked, and I hadn’t known what to say. My answer was complicated.

Part of me was. But…an even deeper, more visceral part of me was protective, possessive. Like the bite was the first thing in this world that had been given to me, and me alone. It was mine. I didn’t want to share it, not with anyone. So I just nodded and watched his eyes glimmer in the dark.

Still so inhuman, but familiar now.

“Liar,” he’d teased, because we both knew my secret.

* * *

Things were great for the summer. Awesome even. My life was a puzzle and for the first time, it felt like all the pieces were falling into place. The guys had finally warmed up to me. Brett and I had taken to starting our own binge watch of shitty sitcoms, and Tommy had stopped heckling me about alpha-holes, hallelujah.

I was still banished from Dad’s place, but it didn’t feel like much of a loss. Not when Marv kept me updated that Dad had been fired from his most recent job, and therefore had been on a bender since the beginning of July. I didn’t really want to be under the line of fire, so I steered clear and worked at the greenhouse as often as possible to save up extra cash. Neither of my brothers attracted his attention the way I did, so I wasn’t really worried about them, though I was relieved when they’d randomly update me so I’d know they weren’t lying dead in a ditch somewhere.

Buck, my other older brother, sent me obscure memes he pulled from the internet every so often that made pretty much no sense to anyone but him, so I figured despite Dad being angry at me, my brothers and I were still chill.

I was doing well in my classes now that the fall semester started. Which was wild, considering the fact I’d never been good at school. I was a straight C student most of my life, which had been a problem, but now that I was in college, it didn’t seem to matter. C’s meant passing and that was good enough. I’d had a final on my birthday, but it hadn’t really mattered. I didn’t celebrate. I never had.

It just wasn’t how we did things, though Tommy somehow had extorted my birthday out of me, so I shouldn’t have been surprised when I showed up to my new room and my bed had a six pack of Mountain Dew sitting on my pillow along with a chocolate cake that I squirreled away to snack on while the rest of the guys were asleep.

* * *

Maybe it was the cake that made me feel sick later, or maybe it was that same growing itchiness under my skin. Either way, I woke up late that night. With the house in silence, the creaking of the floorboards echoed ominously through the air. They always got noisy after dark, like with the world quiet the house was trying to speak.

My throat was dry and my head was foggy as I rose groggily from bed, sparing a glance across the room to the lump on Brett’s bed where he lay sleeping.

Except.

He wasn’t there.

I shrugged off my unease, forcing myself out of the bedroom as quietly as I could, dodging laundry baskets and wayward solo cups as I made my way down the loud-as-fuck wooden hallway and wandered down the stairs in search of water.

There was a light on in the kitchen and warning bells began to ring in the back of my head as I paused when I got to the bottom of the landing, something sitting not quite right. When I glanced down at my phone, I noted the time. Two a.m.

Huh.

I could hear the murmur of voices, so I crept closer, my heartbeat fluttering as my palms began to slick with sweat. This…wasn’t normal. No, normally—I was invited to any and all parties. Even when I’d been in a rut, I’d still always been offered at least an invitation. It was a bit weird, though, that lately my frat brothers had all been nicer than normal.

Maybe that should’ve clued me in that something was wrong.

But I hadn’t wanted to listen to Tommy’s doom and gloom. (See? He’s the one that’s a pessimist!) So I’d ignored it, just figured it was the world finally righting itself after so long of giving me absolute shit.

I supposed if I hadn’t been invited to this weird middle-of-the-night-kitchen-party, it was my own fault, probably.