Chapter 2
Two
HAVEN
“You have to come with us,” Tate says, her big blue eyes in full puppy dog mode, holding her Evil Queen costume in front of me for her to see.
I sigh, not because I’m annoyed with her, but because as far as I’m concerned life isn’t fair. Because I really do want to go to that party.
“I have a really important econ test I need to study for,” I lie, and her face falls.
“The one for Professor McCann?” Kendra asks, gliding into the room. Her braids are twisted on the top of her head in one of my favorite hairstyles on her, making her look like the queen she is.
“Umm, yep,” I say, remembering only now that Kendra takes his class as well and will know what I do—that the test got pushed back to next week.
“That test isn’t until next Tuesday,” she says, and I cringe inwardly as she flops down on the bed next to me.
Busted.
“Right,” I say, floundering for my excuse. “But I’m not doing as well in that class as I want to be, so I need to get some extra studying in.”
Kendra gives me the side-eye, knowing me well enough to know that I’m doing fine in econ. I’m doing well in all my classes. Since I barely have a social life, by necessity not desire, I have all the time in the world to study and do homework.
Gah. I’m so boring I put myself to sleep sometimes.
“Come on,” Kendra says, playfully nudging my shoulders. “You never go out. I think you’ll have fun.”
We’re in Tate’s room in the small apartment she and Kendra share.
I told her I’d come over to help her with her outfit for the costume party she and Kendra are going to tonight.
Apparently, some frat on campus didn’t get the memo that it’s well into November, and they’re throwing a late Halloween party.
Tate says it’s their yearly tradition, but my guess is that they were too lazy to take down their decorations.
Kendra and Tate asked me to come with them to the party last week, and I already said “No,” so I didn’t anticipate them teaming up against me like this.
“Yeah. Come on. Live a little,” Tate pipes up, and what was intended as a good-natured rib hits a little harder than it should.
That’s all I’m trying to do. Live.
Or maybe more specifically, not die.
The truth is I’d love to go to the party with them. I’m itching to get out and live a little. A wild night for most people my age usually ends with a dash of regret, a headache, and a vow to never drink again.
For me, it could end with a gravestone.
Or at least that’s what my parents have ground into me since birth.
Stay hidden. Stay alive.
That’s how I’ve lived life for the past nineteen years.
Going to college was something I never thought I’d be able to do. When I told my parents I wanted to attend, you would have thought I told them I was getting a face tattoo in order to join a cult.
Actually, that may have been preferable for them—as long as the cult was a secretive one.
I eventually wore them down though. They allowed me to attend with a few stipulations: the university couldn’t be in a major city, and I would still have to live with them.
So yeah, I live off campus with my parents, while Tate and Kendra get to share this too-small, probably mold-infested, definitely sketchy-as-heck, but in my eyes perfect little apartment together.
They’re having the normal college experience with not only classes, but with parties and friends and an actual life.
Besides class and the two of them, I don’t have any of that.
And I hate it.
Because if I had control of my life—if I wasn’t hiding from a fanatical group of creatures bent on using me to bring about the apocalypse—I wouldn’t just be at that party tonight. I’d own it.
I duck my head, hiding my gaze from both my friends because I’m sure they’ll be able to read the lie on my face. “My parents want me home early tonight. You know how they can be.”
I glance up just in time to see Tate and Kendra share a look. A familiar one I’ve seen from them before. They think my parents are controlling and . . . they wouldn’t be wrong. But it’s for a reason, and it’s kept me alive all these years. So I can’t blame them for it . . . much.
“Look,” Kendra starts, and I already know they aren’t going to let this go. Not this time. “We’ve been talking, and we’re worried about you.”
“Me?” I laugh lightly, the sound a touch too forced. “Why? I’m fine.”
“But are you?” Tate asks as she plops down next to me.
“We’ve noticed that you seem unhappy.” There’s such raw sincerity in Kendra’s gaze that my own eyes sting.
I swallow against the tightness in my throat, my voice rough when I finally manage to speak. “I’m happy.”
Pressing her mouth into a hard line, Kendra cocks her head and gives me the look. The one that says I’d better not lie to her again, or else.
On the other side of me, Tate grabs my hand and squeezes it, her expression overflowing with compassion.
Even though I haven’t known these girls for years, they’re still my people. They know me. They get me. They care about me. The only other people I can say that about are my parents, but that’s different.
Even with all my oddities, they chose me as their family. And that thought pushes me over the edge, making my eyes fill.
“Come out with us,” Tate asks again, rubbing circles on my back. “I really think it will do you some good.”
“If we get there and you aren’t feeling it, we’ll leave,” Kendra adds, mistaking my hesitation for social anxiety, one of my go-to excuses for dodging events in the past. “We’ll come back and have our own little celebration.
Right here in casa bonita,” she says, waving her hand in the air as if to showcase Tate’s light pink room with cracks in the wall as if it’s a palace rather than a rundown dump.
I want to go. I really do.
I’ve never actually been to a party. It feels like something I’d enjoy.
But my parents’ warnings ring in my head: never put myself in a situation that might get out of control where I’ll accidentally use my magic.
One of the keys to staying hidden in plain sight is to not let anyone know I have powers.
Humans or creatures. We learned early on that stressful and chaotic situations sometimes cause me to lose control, so for years I’ve avoided them.
And a college party feels like a recipe for exactly that.
But even so . . .
“I don’t even have anything to wear,” I say, my voice a bit wobbly.
Kendra hoots and jumps to her feet. “That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear.”
She bolts from the room and returns seconds later brandishing an opaque garment bag. Her grin is a wicked mix of maniacal glee and Cheshire-cat mischief. My brain screams to abort mission, but I tell it to shut up because my heart is already all-in.
If I don’t die tonight, my parents are probably going to kill me. But it might be worth it.
Walking into the party is like getting assaulted by a tsunami of sound, scent, and movement—but in the best way possible.
I crinkle my nose. Except for maybe the scent. My senses are more heightened than humans’, and I could absolutely do without the stench of sweat and cheap beer filling the air, but other than that I’m already entranced by the spectacle unfolding around me.
Dancing bodies, flashing lights, blaring music. There’s an energy in the air, a crackle of fevered excitement I’ve never felt before, and without even taking a drink I feel almost drunk on it all.
“I’m so sorry,” Tate yells into my ear to be heard over the noise. “I really didn’t think it would be quite this crazy.”
Tate looks perfect in her Evil Queen costume.
Statuesque and curvy, the floor-length dress with a high and exaggerated collar fits her to perfection.
Her long black hair is pulled up into a twist, with a plastic crown sitting atop her head.
Her makeup is severe and dramatic, making her eyes pop and her lips look impossibly full.
She’s been getting appreciative looks since before we even stepped into the house.
Kendra looks equally amazing in her wolf costume.
She’s styled her braids into two space buns that are more triangular than round, making them look like ears.
She’s wearing brown faux fur arm and leg warmers, and a tight bodycon dress in the same color.
She’s painted whiskers on her face with liquid eyeliner to complete the look.
I think part of the reason she was so excited about my coming is that with my short apron dress and distinctive red hooded cape, our costumes are perfectly coordinated.
Dressed as Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf, we make a fairy-tale power duo: me in the cape, her ready to huff, and puff, and blow the party down.
“No. I think it’s great,” I shout back to Tate, but she shakes her head and taps her ear, unable to hear me. I grin and give her a thumbs-up to let her know I’m okay.
The frat house is massive, and as we weave our way through the foyer and deeper inside, the crowd gets denser and the floor gets stickier.
We pass through a room that’s decorated like a graveyard, with life-size coffins and foam tombstones with funny sayings on them like, “Here Lies Barry M. Deep” and “brB.”
The next room looks like a deranged circus, with dummies dressed up like blood-splattered clowns, and a strobe light that makes it hard to see and walk in a straight line.
They must have set up interconnected speakers throughout the house, because the same music thumps in every room, making conversation difficult. But I don’t mind. I’m too busy taking it all in to talk anyway.
As we move from room to room, everyone seems to be having a great time, laughing, dancing, conversing, at least as much as possible with the bass loud enough to shake the house down. I don’t know where Tate and Kendra are leading me until we eventually end up on the back porch outside.