Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
NOLA
The ground is cold beneath my feet, the grass still damp with rain from earlier today. My heart pounds against my chest, my whole body breaking out in a nervous shiver.
“No need to be afraid,” the one on my right murmurs, and right away I know it’s Sylas.
“I-I’m not.” I keep my voice low, careful not to give myself away.
“No, brother.” The one on my left chuckles, his voice sounding just like Wesley’s.
“She’s not afraid, not at all. I can practically smell how wet her cunt is.
” He groans, his words making my core clench.
Of course, I’m wet for them. How could I not be?
This is something I’ve dreamed about for years now.
Knowing they are about to have their way with my body—and I am more than willing to allow them to do whatever they please—fills me with this intense need only they’ve ever been able to stoke within me.
That leaves Jasper as the man in front of me. It doesn’t surprise me that he wasn’t the first one to speak.
He might be the quietest of the three, but he’s by far the most deadly of them, despite the chaotic energy Sylas gives off.
“I can’t wait to feel just how sweet you taste between those pretty creamy thighs,” Wesley purrs, causing another shiver to run up my spine.
Biting my lip, I swallow down the whimper threatening to break free. That makes the both of us.
Once we reach the top of the hill, I catch a glance over my shoulder and revel in the beauty of the sight below of the cemetery where the party is currently going on, big bonfires illuminating the space of people getting drunk and rowdy.
A perfect cover-up for the real event.
The sound of a door opening catches my attention. My head snaps forward to find Jasper holding the door to the crypt open and stepping aside for us to enter.
I can feel the energy around me starting to crackle, my emotions intensify tenfold as the heavy door closes behind us with a loud thud. It traps the three of us in a small dark space, the only light coming from the tiny window on the other side.
I can feel their heavy presence and the way their eyes all focus on me.
“It's too late to run now, little rabbit,” Sylas chuckles. “You’ve walked right into the wolf's den. Are you sure you’ve made the right decision by coming here tonight? You know you’ve just offered yourself up to us, up to the Brotherhood, the gods. Your body is ours to do with as we please.”
I don’t say anything, licking my lips as I try not to tremble. It’s cold down here, making goose bumps skitter across my skin.
“I can’t wait to eat her right up,” Wesley chuckles. “I bet she cries so prettily. Tell me, my pretty little prey, can you handle a little pain?”
“Enough,” Jasper commands. “Stop playing with the sacrifice. We have a job to do.”
“All fun, no play makes the big bad doctor a grumpy boy,” Sylas teases. “Don’t worry, brother. You're going to get your pound of flesh. You can keep your thirst for blood at bay for a few more minutes. You're not going to die.”
“The only one who’s going to die is you, if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Jasper threatens.
I shouldn’t smile, it’s not the time or place, but I’ve always enjoyed the dynamic between the three of them.
Sylas had this unhinged sort of playfulness, while Wesley is more of the depraved, dry-humor type, leaving Jasper as the broody grump of the three.
I’m not surprised. He’s got a lot to deal with, having to be the one who keeps the other two under control.
If he didn’t, I’d have no doubt that there would be a lot more bodies lying around New Orleans.
Logic tells me I should be afraid of them. That coming in here with these three literal killers could be the worst decision I could ever make.
Guess it’s a wonderful thing that I’ve never been much of a logical person.
Death isn’t something I fear. I'm around it every day.
It’s living that scares me. The unknown. Death is predictable, life is not.
Jasper takes the stairs leading down to an open tomb before stepping over the stone side and descending down below.
“Come on, little blood bag. Let’s go bring our god a pretty little sacrifice.”
God. Blood. Sacrifice.
What kind of sacrifice will I become tonight? What events are about to unfold? Is this just going to be offering up my body, maybe a little bit of blood, or will they kill me?
I know they have the power to do so. And the scary part is, no one knows I’m here. They could kill me, get rid of my body, and leave no evidence behind. I know my father would have questions, that he wouldn’t stop until he had answers, but would the Brotherhood give them to him?
It’s not uncommon to go missing from these parties, never to be seen again.
Will that be my fate?
Fuck that shit. My fate is to be much greater than that. I sure as hell plan on making sure of it.
Sylas keeps a hold of my arm, guiding me down the stairs before helping me over the ledge. It’s kind of sweet if I didn’t know he was unpredictable and could throw me down the steps for fun if he wanted to.
It’s a risk that comes with hiding who I am. To them, right now, I’m some no-name, silly little girl, who they believe got herself into something she’s unaware of.
I’m just some sweet little virgin girl who’s pure and naive.
The only true thing about that statement is the virginal part.
The further we descend, the more my nose fills with the pungent smell of damp earth, making me want to sneeze.
The cover to the tomb above us closes, engulfing us in complete darkness. For the first time tonight, I feel a spark of real, genuine fear. Not because of the dark itself, but the monsters that might lurk within it.
I might not fear these three men surrounding me, but that doesn’t extend to the other men in the Brotherhood.
A flash of fire bursts to life, making me stare at Jasper, who’s holding a torch.
Without a word, he starts to walk down a dark path. Sylas and Wesley urge me forward as we follow.
For a little while, the only sounds in the small space are our footsteps against the dirt of the ground, little pebbles pushing into the soft flesh of my feet.
But the deeper we go, the more this faint chanting sound grows louder and louder, until we’re stepping into a wide open space.
Eyes darting all around us, I quickly become aware of my new surroundings.
At least twenty men stand against the walls of the space, all dressed in the same attire that the boys are.
The moment we walk in, the chanting stops, and everything becomes eerily silent. The only sound that can still be heard is the crackling of the torches that adorn the room.
“Welcome, brothers,” a deep voice booms as a man steps forward. “Tonight, we gather together to celebrate the ancient gods and all the good fortune they’ve bestowed upon our ancestors and us. Tonight, we offer beauty, purity, and innocence. Let us grace the gods in the form of a blood offering.”
“Here, here,” the group echoes back, my guys included.
Hopefully, the innocent part isn’t a huge requirement, or there’s a very good chance I’ll be upsetting the gods. Oops?
Something brushes against my back, and I suck in a surprised gasp. “Jumpy little rabbit,” Sylas chuckles low. “You are a fun one, aren’t you?”
Swallowing hard, I try to steady my breathing. My heart is beating so fast I feel like I might pass out. I’m not jumpy because I’m afraid, but because I’m just not used to being touched like this so much.
This is the longest that I’ve been in the same place as these three in years. And apart from posing together at graduation for that photo and bumping into Wesley that day in class, I’ve never been touched by them.
The anticipation of what's about to happen next consumes me. Whatever they have planned, I know at least two things are going to occur.
I will no longer be a virgin by the time I leave, and I will bleed. Probably in more ways than one.
They walk me toward the center of the room, where a large circular stone slab sits.
“Are you ready?” Wesley purrs in my ear, his voice a soft whisper. My eyes flutter closed as my body starts to tingle. “I can’t wait to hear you scream.”
The three of them take a step back, their dark presence still towering over me. I tilt my head back to look up at them, licking my lips as I wonder what is going to happen next.
My heart nearly stops in my chest when they start to remove their cloaks.
I drink them in, chest rising and falling quicker with every glorious inch of their bodies they reveal to me.
Stunning, intricate tattoos decorate their skin, each man with a different set of designs, but all are equally as gorgeous.
All of them are fit, but while Sylas is more on the lean side, Jasper is ripped.
His muscled arms have those sexy veins, making my mouth water, and I want to trace every inch with my tongue.
Wesley sits somewhere in the middle of the two, not overly ripped, but enough of a build, thanks to the years that he played football.
Their looks aren't a factor in why I’m in love with them, just a blessed bonus.
“Strip.” Jasper’s voice echoes throughout the room. “Bare your body to the gods and the Brotherhood. Show us how pure you are.”
I really hope the gods don’t have the power to read minds, or we’re all fucked.
Taking a small breath, I reach behind my back, my eyes not wavering from their masked faces, and unhook my bra from underneath my nightgown.
Lowering my arms, I let both pieces of fabric fall to the ground. The cool air around me causes my nipples to pull tight.
I shimmy out of my panties, letting them pool at my feet before stepping out of them and kicking them to the side.
The three of them take another step back, as if they need more room to drink in my body.
I resist the urge to wrap my arms around myself, to hide from the eyes of the men around us. So I focus on the three in front of me.
I’ve never felt so exposed in my life.
My body is theirs to do with as they please. They own me. I give myself over to them willingly.