Chapter 22
Salem
The Roost was alive tonight, neon lights bouncing off the walls, loud music pulsing through the air, and costumes everywhere. The Hell on Heelz threw the best Halloween parties in town, and this year was no exception. The theme was “Hellfire and Nightmares,” and the girls had outdone themselves—everything was draped in blood-red silk, skeletons, and fake fire. Costumes ranged from slutty nurses to creepy clowns, but I’d gone with something more low-key. A simple black dress, a witch’s hat tilted to one side, and enough eyeliner to make me look like I meant business.
I should’ve been having a blast. I was surrounded by my sisters, everyone in good spirits, all geared up for a wild night. But my eyes kept scanning the crowd, looking for him. For Heresy.
I didn’t even know if he’d show. Why would he? Things between us were complicated, more complicated than I was prepared to accept. Hell, I wasn’t sure where I stood.
Underneath the laughter and rowdy conversations, though, I felt it—an unease creeping up my spine. I couldn't dismiss the hunch that something bad was about to take place. And it wasn’t just the storm brewing outside or the thick tension between Heresy and me that still lingered after the farmhouse.
It was something more.
I hadn’t seen him since that night, and while part of me was relieved—because, damn, what were we even doing?—another part of me was restless. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Every time someone bumped into me or the music shifted, I half expected him to appear out of the shadows, those dark eyes locked on me.
But then I saw him. And my heart stopped dead in my chest.
Heresy, in the middle of a crowd, but not alone. He was with her. Diana.
At first, I couldn’t process it, couldn’t understand why the sight of them together made my stomach twist into a knot. Diana was clinging to him like she owned him, her hands on his arm, her body pressed way too close. Heresy wasn’t even pulling away. He was letting her. And it stung, deeper than I was ready for.
The blood drained from my face as a rush of emotions hit me all at once. Anger. Jealousy. And then pure, unfiltered heartbreak.
What the hell was he doing?
I stood frozen, staring at them, my breath catching in my throat. Diana threw her head back and laughed at something he said, like she didn't have a worry in the world. Her fake, high-pitched cackle was like nails on a chalkboard. And he just... stood there, like it was no big deal.
My chest tightened, my fists clenched at my sides, and that pit of hurt in my stomach flared into a firestorm of rage. I’d always been good at keeping my cool, but this? Seeing him with her? It was like a match to gasoline.
He saw me.
Our eyes locked across the room, and I swear I could feel the tension between us snap like a taut wire. His expression didn’t change, but I saw it. The guilt. Maybe even regret.
But it didn’t matter. Not now.
How could he? After everything, after that night in the farmhouse—after the storm and the sex and the confessions—he was here with her?
I forced myself to tear my gaze away before I did something stupid like march over there and punch that smug smile off Diana’s face. My heart was pounding in my ears, and I could barely think straight. I felt sick. Betrayed. And more pissed off than I’d ever been.
“Hey, you okay?” Pixie nudged me, her eyebrows raised in concern. “You look like you’re about to murder someone.”
I forced a smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “I’m fine. Just... need a drink.”
A strong drink.
I stormed toward the bar, grabbing the first bottle I could find and knocking it back like it was water. But no amount of whiskey was going to drown out the bitterness that was clawing at my insides. I could still see them out of the corner of my eye—Heresy and Diana, looking cozy, like it was no big deal, like I was no big deal.
I wasn’t sure if I was more heartbroken or angry. Maybe both. Either way, one thing was clear. I wasn’t just a girl who’d stand by and let someone walk all over her, especially not a guy like Heresy.
If he wanted to play this game, fine. But he’d better be ready for the firestorm he just unleashed.
But it wasn’t Heresy who found me first.
It was his date. A girl from the Seville Slayers, one I’d seen hanging around the club a few times but hadn’t really paid much attention to. Until now.
“Salem, right?” she said, sidling up to me with a drink in her hand. She was dressed in a skin-tight catsuit, her black hair slicked back into a ponytail, and her eyes gleaming with something nasty. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
I glanced at her, my internal alarm bells ringing. “Yeah, that’s me. What’s it to you?”
She leaned in closer, her perfume too sweet, cloying. “Oh, nothing. Just thought you’d like to know… your secret’s not so secret anymore.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She smiled, a smug little smirk that made my blood boil. “I’m talking about Heresy. You know, your little Slayer boyfriend?”
My stomach dropped. Fuck. This bitch knew. And she wasn’t here to keep it quiet.
I grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the crowd, my blood rushing in my ears. “Who the fuck are you, and what do you want?”
She yanked her arm back, standing tall and crossing her arms with a cocky stance. “Name’s Diana. I’ve been around Heresy longer than you’ve been wearing that prospect patch. And let’s just say… I know what you’ve been doing. You think no one noticed? You think he’s sneaking off into the night without anyone catching on?”
She was right in my face now, and I wanted to punch her perfect nose in, but I couldn’t. Not here. Not in the middle of a Hell on Heelz party.
I knew her goddamn name, I meant who the fuck did she think she was? “What’s your game?” I hissed, working hard to keep my voice level. “What do you want?”
Her smile widened, and I could see the pure joy she got from this. “Oh, nothing much. Just thought I’d give you a heads-up. If the Hell on Heelz girls find out you’ve been fucking around with a Slayer, well… your prospect patch? Gone. And Heresy? Let’s just say the Slayers don’t take too kindly to guys who can’t keep their dick in the right place.”
I could feel the heat rising in my chest, the panic crawling up my throat. “You don’t know shit, Diana. You’re just trying to stir shit up.”
“Oh, honey,” she purred, “I don’t have to stir anything. The storm’s already coming. Just wait ‘til your sisters find out. Or better yet, wait ‘til Heresy’s brothers do.”
She gave me one last smug look before turning on her heel and sauntering off, leaving me standing there, hands balled and head spinning.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I wanted to rip her apart, but worse than that, I knew she was right. If the girls found out I’d been with Heresy that night, my whole shot at being patched into the Hell on Heelz would go up in flames. And if the Slayers found out, Heresy could lose everything. He was risking more than I was. Way more.
I needed to find him. Now.
I pushed through the crowd, my mind racing. The music was pounding, the smell of booze and sweat filling the air, but I barely noticed it. All I could think about was Heresy, and the danger we were both in.
If Diana opened her mouth to the wrong person, everything would come crashing down.
I spotted Razor in the crowd, but I couldn’t let her see me like this. She’d know something was up in a second, and I couldn’t risk that. I ducked around the back, slipping out of the main party and into the quieter hallway that led to the office.
My heart was racing, panic creeping up my spine. I felt like a goddamn fool for getting caught up in this shit with Heresy. I should have known better. Should have kept my head down and focused on earning my patch.
But instead, I let my guard down. And now, it might cost me everything.
As I reached the end of the hall, the door creaked open, and there he was.
Heresy.
Leaning against the wall like he owned the place, his eyes dark and dangerous, like he’d been waiting for me.
“What the hell, Salem?” he snarled, his voice low and furious. “What’s going on?”
I began to speak, but no words came out. Because in that moment, I realized just how deep I’d let myself fall.