The Devil and His Fawn (Saint Vale #1)
Chapter 1
One
Enzo
I sat on the edge of the cloister wall as rain cleansed the blood from my hands.
Look at me, conserving water and using natural resources. Someone award me a fucking Nobel Prize.
Thunder rumbled through the night, and I inhaled the cool, damp smell of aged stone as my legs dangled over the wall’s ledge.
I’d started coming here during my first year at Saint Vale University. Now, four years later, I’d made it a ritual to return after I took a life.
A cruel smirk spread over my face as my mind drifted back to Marv and how he’d pleaded for his life in the warehouse.
The agony in his screams was a symphony to my ears as I severed his fingers cleanly at the knuckles.
Each lie he told me cost him another digit.
When I ran out of fingers, I took his entire hand.
Mental note: Have Nico mail the hand to Marv’s family tomorrow. That way, Marv can always be there to lend a helping hand.
Bright headlights cutting through the storm stole my attention. I brushed raindrops from my face as a Rolls-Royce drove around the fountain at the university’s entrance. The car screeched to a halt at the limestone steps that led to the entrance doors.
Saint Vale University was difficult to access. You had a better chance of gaining clearance to the White House. The university restricted public access and prohibited students from going out after curfew. Headmaster Arisono was strict about that shit.
Strict about it with other students, that was.
The rules never applied to me. Never applied to us.
Annoyed by the late-night visitor disturbing my peace, I drew my knife from my pocket. I had come here for silence, and they’d ruined that.
A scrawny man sporting an ivy cap exited the car, popped the trunk, and hauled out a suitcase. He dumped the luggage on the bottom step like trash, ignoring the downpour.
I spun the knife in my hand when the car’s back door opened. A foot emerged, then another, and seconds passed.
She stepped out into the open, and I stopped spinning my knife. I tightened my grip on the handle, wanting to slit the moon apart so all its light would fall on her.
I blinked, mentally scanning through the faces I knew here. She wasn’t one of them.
When I’d first arrived at Saint Vale, I’d learned everything about the students. Blood types. Social Security numbers. Every skeleton hidden in their closets.
She adjusted her skirt, and I dragged the blade across my palm when she slammed the door shut. Pathetic thing just stood there, all wet, but the rain didn’t seem to affect her.
She looked so innocent.
So lost, like a stray animal.
Lifting my knife, I lined it up with her head but held back. I bit into my lower lip, and a new thrill replaced the echo of Marv’s screams in my head.
Hunting her like a Fawn.
I flashed a smile like the devil I was.
She stepped toward the man, but he walked past her as if she were a ghost. My smile deepened when her shoulders drooped at his rejection. He climbed into the Rolls-Royce and sped off. The tires ripped through a puddle, sending a sheet of water over her.
With a shriek, she stumbled back.
I scoffed and lowered the knife. I’d gut a rat bastard if he ever tried that shit on me.
My gaze stayed locked on her as she grabbed the luggage handle and lifted it, looking utterly pitiful.
If I were a gentleman, I’d help her.
I wasn’t.
Like mercy, good manners were overrated.
I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo of her humiliation. It was just my luck that when I did, she glanced straight at me, giving me the perfect shot.
After I got it, I slipped back into the shadows, where I preferred to stay.
She shook her head, as if she’d imagined my stare, and hauled her suitcase up the steps. After a few steps, she stopped to shake out the ache from her hand. She had a good twenty more steps to go before reaching the vestibule.
I opened the photo and increased the screen’s brightness. Her features were grainy and pixelated. Dark hair clung to her wet cheeks, and a loose blazer hid her shape.
The night and my phone’s shitty resolution blurred everything else about her.
I sent the photo to Nico before texting him, my fingers moving across the screen furiously.
Me: New girl.
Me: Find out who she is.
Me: NOW.
It took him less than thirty seconds to reply.
Faster than it took her to climb the next step.
Nico: That’s a shit picture, Zo.
Me: I don’t give two fucks if it’s a stick figure. Find out who she is.
Nico: I’m in the middle of something.
Me: I’m about to be in the middle of slitting your fucking throat.
Nico:
I pocketed my phone, knowing he’d do as I instructed.
I wasn’t a rescuer of strays, and I enjoyed kicking people when they were down. If I were honest, which I rarely was, I liked kicking them until they were six feet under.
I decided right then that she was it.
My Fawn.
My chosen for the year.
She was almost at the top step when my phone buzzed again.
Nico: Blair Dupont.
Me: How’d you figure that out so fast?
Nico: The chick sucking my cock told me.
I blinked raindrops from my eyelashes.
Nico: I can tell you’re interested …
Since he didn’t know how to complete fucking sentences, I didn’t reply.
Like a stage-five cling-on, he texted me again.
Nico: You won’t believe why she got kicked out of her last university. If she’s your chosen, I fully support it.
Me: I don’t care about your support. I’m not running for fucking mayor.
I hopped off the wall and walked along the stone path bordering the university that led to my private dorm wing. With each step, I plotted the ways I’d make Blair Dupont wish she’d never been born.
God help her fucking soul.