Chapter 19
Chapter
Nineteen
ANABELLE
Iwalk into Black Magic and find that my brother was right, I don’t recognize anyone here. There are two couples playing pool who I think were a few years ahead of me in high school and some lifers sitting at the bar, but that’s about it.
I order a drink from Sawyer and head over to one of the tables, not feeling like chitchatting with anyone. Maybe after my first drink.
At the moment, there’s no one here for me to go home with, but maybe someone else will come in later on.
It’s not as though there are an unlimited number of bachelors my age in Magnolia Bend.
At least Galen’s not here. I’m so desperate to escape my life tonight that I might have even considered going home with him.
I forgot my book in my car, so about halfway through my drink, I step outside to grab it.
I walk around the side of the building and look to my left when the sound of an approaching vehicle reaches me.
Two blacked-out high-end SUVs pass by, and I get that hollow feeling in my chest whenever my mind travels to Asher because I know they’re headed to Midnight Manor.
Maybe I should have stayed at the manor tonight to try to get some answers.
I’m almost at my vehicle when a car stops in the dirt parking lot behind me. I turn and watch a man get out and walk toward the bar, but I can’t tell what he looks like because of the headlights.
Once I turn away from the glaring lights, I get my book from my car and bring it back into the bar with me. I’ve just set the book on the table and am pulling out my chair when an attractive man comes out of the back hallway where the restrooms are.
His eyes take me in from head to toe, and I can tell that he likes what he sees. There’s a gleam in his gaze that feels a little off-kilter, but I set my concerns aside. He’s definitely older than me, though probably not as old as Asher. Maybe in his early thirties.
God, why am I comparing him to Asher? The whole point of tonight was not to think of him.
He’s wearing expensive black dress pants and a short-sleeve black button-up shirt. His hair is cut close to his head, and I can tell by the way the light reflects off of it that if it was longer, it would probably land somewhere between light brown and dark blond.
He smiles and walks over, taking the back of my chair from me and pulling it out. “Allow me.”
Maybe my night is looking up. I smile at him and take a seat. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He walks around to stand at the opposite side of the table, then briefly glances at his expensive watch. “Would you mind if I joined you for a bit?”
“Of course not. Have a seat.” I motion to the empty chair across from me.
He pulls out the chair in one smooth motion, smiling across the table at me. “What’s your name?”
“Anabelle.” I might want to hook up tonight, but I’m not going to give this guy any more information than he needs.
I had a one-night stand my second year in college, and the guy found me on socials because I’d given him my full name. He wouldn’t stop messaging me for weeks before he took the hint that I didn’t want anything more than our one night together.
“Preston. Pleasure.” He holds his hand out over the table and I shake it. When I try to pull my hand away, he holds onto it. Our eyes catch and snag, and when the corner of his lips tip up, he finally releases my hand. “I’ll go get us some fresh drinks. What would you like?”
I give him my order and watch as he walks over to the bar. I’m not sure about him. There’s no doubt he’s attractive, and he seems interested, but I hate this unsettled feeling when he looks at me.
That’s probably just my Asher brain talking, because Preston doesn’t make me want to strip my clothes off and do whatever he says upon seeing him. There’s no harm in having one drink with him and feeling him out before I decide whether I want to go home with him or not.
Preston returns and sets my drink in front of me, seeming to opt for straight whiskey himself. “So, Anabelle. What is it that you do for a living?” He leans back in his seat, the picture of relaxed sophistication.
How to answer that? I’m not about to tell him about my deal with Asher, so instead I say, “I was interning at a small publisher in Nashville, but I had to return home to see to some family matters.” I bring my drink to my lips and sip from it.
“Interning? How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Good. Had to make sure you’re legal.” He winks and sips from his drink.
A nervous chuckle leaks out, and I take another sip.
“What publisher were you working at?” he asks.
When I tell him, he seems to know a little about them. We chat about what direction I’m hoping for my career to take once I’ve resolved my family issues, and he seems to know a little about publishing, but when I ask him what he does for a living, he’s vague.
I finish my drink and lean my chin on my fist as I look across the table at him. At first, I wasn’t sure about him, but I think he might be a good guy. A good distraction at the very least.
“So, do you have a boyfriend, Anabelle?” He finishes his own drink and slides the glass to the middle of the table.
“Pfft. Not at all.” I shake my head, still pressed against my fist, and have to close my eyes for a second when the sensation of my head swimming hits me.
He smiles wide. “You sound like a woman scorned.”
I shrug as best I can. “Maybe. Maybe I’m just a dumb girl who fell for the wrong guy.”
Preston pushes his chair back and stands from the table.
Wait, where is he going? He’s supposed to be my distraction tonight.
But instead of leaving, he walks around the table and comes to my side. “I’m headed to a party that might be just what you need. Care to join me?”
I lift my hand from my fist and smile up at him. “Absolutely.”
This is exactly what I need. A little bit of fun to get my mind off everything I don’t want to think about.
He helps me stand, and I have to clutch him for a moment before I get my bearings and can stand on my own. “Oops, sorry.”
“No worries.” He wraps his arm around my waist, and we make our way to the door.
My limbs feel heavy when I walk, but I figure it must just be from the extra hard run I did this morning. I should have drunk more water.
He leads me to the vehicle I saw him get out of, and I realize it’s one of the same types of blacked-out SUVs that travel up to Midnight Manor once a month. I debate asking where we’re going, but I really don’t care.
If Preston is going to some party at the manor, and Asher will be there, let him see me with Preston. I don’t care. He could be there with Madeline Ridgeway or some other woman he deems worthy for all I know.
“Shoot, I left my book on the table.”
I try to turn around, but Preston opens the back door of the SUV for me. “I’ll go grab it. You hop in and wait for me.”
I smile at him as he helps me in the back. “Thank you.”
The driver doesn’t say anything to me, so I quietly wait. But my eyelids grow heavy, and suddenly I’m so drowsy that I can’t keep them open anymore, so I opt to lean my head back and close them, just until Preston returns.
I awake with a start, and it takes me a moment to figure out where I am, but when I turn to my side and see Preston, it all comes back to me.
“Have a good cat nap?” he asks, grinning.
“I’m so sorry.” I try to sit up straight, but my limbs still feel as if I can’t move them properly. Maybe I’m getting sick or something?
“Don’t worry about it.” He reaches across the seat and takes my hand.
Well, at least he’s still interested.
I glance out the window and realize we’re on the grounds of Midnight Manor. “This is where the party is?”
“You know it?” he asks.
“Everyone in town knows about Midnight Manor.” It’s kind of a lie by omission but not an outright lie.
Besides, I stand by what I thought earlier. Let Asher see me with this handsome, available man. He made it clear I was nothing to him.
But Preston said he was going to a party. Could that be all this is? Are the Voss brothers throwing a party once a month, and the rumor mill is wrong?
It wouldn’t surprise me. The people in town have a knack for taking something small and making something big of it. It’s not beyond the stretch of the imagination that they could have done the same with this.
The driver takes the SUV to the side of the house, in between the south and the west wing, and pulls to a stop.
“Ready?” Preston asks me.
“Yup.” A nauseated feeling comes over me, though I’m sure that’s because the nerves are hitting me now at the idea of seeing Asher, especially if he’s with that Madeline woman. Imagining them together was bad enough, but actually having to see it would feel like torture.
The driver comes around and opens Preston’s door, then Preston helps me get out of the back of the vehicle. Again, I have to cling to him when my feet hit the ground because I feel so woozy, but he doesn’t seem to care.
The vehicles must all just drop and go, because I don’t see any of them milling about.
Once again, Preston wraps his arm around my waist and helps me toward the house and a large, intricately carved wooden door.
Before we reach the door, he turns back to me. “It’s a theme party, so you have to make sure you’re in costume when we go in.”
“Oh.” I blink up at him, not sure what he expects me to do with this information. My brain is sluggish.
“We’re all going to be dressed the same, and I have an extra, so we’re good. Let me just put it on you.”
I hadn’t even realized he had anything in his other hand. I don’t really understand, but I’m so tired that I don’t think I could help him even if I wanted to. “Okay.”
Preston pulls something around me, and I feel myself being surrounded by fabric as it brushes against my bare legs. Then he places some kind of mask on my face that covers my forehead down to my nose and cheeks. And finally, he pulls up a hood.
I’m not sure what I look like, and the idea of moving my limbs to try to see seems like too much effort right now. When Preston dons his costume, I know that I’m likely dressed in a dark red robe and black mask as he is.
“You just happened to have an extra one of these for me?” A slow chuckle leaves my lips.
“My date canceled on me.”
“Guess she’s missing out then.” Did I just slur a bit?
“I’m starting to think I got lucky that she canceled.
” He kisses me, and it’s all I can do to get my tongue to work properly and kiss him back.
He pulls away, and though his face is covered in a mask, his eyes look at me seriously.
“If anyone asks your name, you need to say it’s Penelope, okay?
This is a private party, and they don’t like outsiders.
No one will know you’re not her covered like this anyway. Got it?”
I scrunch my forehead under the mask. “I guess.”
He wraps his arm around my waist and walks me toward the large wooden door. “It’s important. Don’t talk to anyone unless you have to, and if you do, you’re Penelope.”
Unease creeps up my spine. As the door creaks open, and a man I’ve never seen before stands there eyeing us, I don’t know what to do.
Preston lifts his mask to show his face. “Penelope’s had a little too much fun already for the night, so I’m going to help her in.”
“No problem, Mr. Wallace.”
The large man steps to the side, and Preston helps me in past the threshold. We’re standing on a large landing with a steep set of stairs ahead. It’s dark at the bottom of the stairs, so I can’t see what’s down there, but I hear the thrumming bass of music.
Do the Vosses have a nightclub in their basement or something?
Preston helps me toward the stairs.
“I don’t think I can make it down those.” Okay, now I’m definitely slurring.
“I got you.” Without warning, Preston picks me up and carries me down the staircase.
My head lolls back and forth because I can’t seem to keep it up in this position. By the time he sets me on my feet at the bottom, I’m nauseated again. He straightens my mask and pulls my hood up farther so it conceals more of my face before wrapping his arm around my waist.
It’s dark here, and as he moves us forward, we step through an archway into a cavernous room that looks as if it’s been carved from stone. Music bleeds through the room, seeming to fill all the crevices and cracks in the stone above us. It overflows my senses with its pulsating, thrumming beat.
My eyes drift shut as I look down from the ceiling at the people surrounding us. They’re all dressed in the same red cloaks, though the masks are different. Some are black, some red, some white—all with different designs.
They’re all standing in a circle, but I can’t see what they’re looking at. Not until Preston clutches my side harder and leads me forward, pushing into the inner circle.
I blink several times to be sure I’m seeing things correctly.
There’s a dais at the far end of the room and the circle starts there.
On it is a man—he’s shirtless, that’s the only way I know—standing over a naked woman wearing a black mask who is lying across some kind of riser.
Another man is standing off to the side, and he reaches forward with a knife in his hand and passes it to the man with the girl.
That’s when I see it—the bear tattoo on his hand.
Asher.
Asher is the man passing the knife on.
My heart rate picks up.
The man with the knife in his hand now brings it to her breast, pressing the tip there until blood pools around the indent. Her back arches, and she moans loudly enough that I hear her over the music. Is she enjoying this?
The man bends down to her breast and runs his tongue along the curve of it until he reaches the place where he cut her, then he laps up the blood with his tongue.
Preston said not to speak, but I can’t help myself, and I turn my head in his direction. “Is this a cult?”
Oh my god, are they going to sacrifice her?
Before he can answer, my head swims, and I feel it loll forward. Then I fall limp to the side. Though Preston is trying his best to keep me upright, I can’t move my limbs, and I’m just so tired all of a sudden.
Preston curses in my ear before the world goes black.