Chapter 18
“MABEL?” DANNY’S VOICE IS A SOOTHING BALM TO MY hysteria, silencing the blood rushing in my ears until there’s nothing but a faint hum.
There’s a hint of confusion in his voice and, when I spot him, he’s frozen in place as his eyes move frantically over my figure, examining every inch of my body.
I haven’t gotten the chance to glimpse my reflection, but I must look like a mess.
Even though I can’t see it, I know it. Covered in blood, sweaty from the physical activity and the adrenaline, with a puffy face from the attacks and tears.
Not a pretty sight. “Mabel, are you okay?” His question pierces through my thoughts, and I drift back to reality for an instant, only to slip back again into the ocean of darkness in my brain.
How could I even begin to express what I’ve been through? Minimizing my response to a simple, single word seems too shallow. It wouldn’t even begin to cover the emotions weighing my spirit down.
Scared shitless? Too vague.
In shock that I managed to escape from Cupid after discovering murder and nonconsensual touching turns him on? Too triggering.
The words become prisoners in my throat, unwillingly trapped when I should force them out as I stare back at Danny, sight solely focused on him while I will my body to stop shaking like an anxious chihuahua.
He is a beacon of light in this twisted reality, keeping me grounded in a positive horizon, even though there’s no certainty that there will be one.
After what seems like forever, but is only a handful of seconds, I glance around to try to take in my surroundings.
I’m in a communal bathroom. Danny kneels by a toilet where Cerys is sitting on the closed seat, eyes flickering between us like he can’t figure out what to do.
Thanks to the two flashlights illuminating the room, I notice when a third participant hovers in the background, walking from the sinks with something in her hands.
Copper hair shines as she moves past the lights, and I finally identify who it is.
Bethan.
She had been completely absent from my mind since the second we got separated. How has she managed to stay alive? Zelda didn’t mention her before, and Carmen hadn’t seen her either. Could it be that she’s been hiding here since the beginning?
I narrow my gaze, focusing on the details of her appearance.
She’s more disheveled than I’ve ever seen her, which is saying a lot since we lived in the same sorority for years; I’ve seen what she looks like in the morning.
Her red hair is messy, matted in places where it has tangled, with sweat plastered along her hairline.
Streaks of mascara chisel her cheeks, revealing she’s been crying.
Although her clothes are dirty and her pale legs have some bruises forming around the knees and shins, she doesn’t appear to be hurt.
But her worn-out appearance isn’t what catches my attention.
My eyes remain locked on the towel in her hands. White fabric stained by red.
Blood.
My heart drops to the pit of my stomach, leaving me dizzy as I piece together that someone here is injured.
And it’s not Bethan.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I press the backs of my hands to them to avoid shedding more tears. Why is it that every time I come close to feeling any sort of relief, it’s quickly turned to ashes by a dreadful event? Hope is a fragile thing in this place, so easily crushed.
It’s stupid of me to believe anything good can come out of this when I know what the odds are for surviving a slasher. Most of us will not make it. But I have a harder time facing the fact that the people I care about can and will inevitably be hurt.
Like Carmen was.
Like someone here is now.
“Who’s injured?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper, even though I think I know the answer.
I just need to hear it.
The lingering silence tells me more than any verbal response could.
Opening my eyes, I focus on them all. Danny and Bethan turn to Cerys.
He’s on his knees, pressing his hands against the side of Cerys’ torso where blood is leaking from between his fingers.
There’s a first-aid kit open at their feet on the floor.
He gestures to Bethan with his head, and she approaches with the towel, putting it over his hands until he moves them from underneath so she can apply pressure to the wound.
They’re taking it in turns to try to stop the bleeding.
Cerys’ whimpers become muffled as she covers her mouth and nose with her hand. Tears spring from her blue eyes as she closes them, trying to endure the pain.
“What can I do?” I question, burying the memories of what I’ve just lived through, swallowing down the trauma so I can give all my energy to Cerys.
If I focus on one task at a time, I can stay solid, even though my bravery and sanity have been chipped and scarred by the events I’ve endured alone.
I kneel down between Danny and my friend, setting the dagger on the ground for a moment, even though it might be a stupid move that will put me in danger.
I don’t need it right now. While I can’t see her wound, I can tell she’s badly injured.
Worse than Carmen, not as badly as Zelda, yet it doesn’t mean she doesn’t need medical attention.
Sweat beads crown her hairline and she’s paler than usual, accentuating the dark circles under her eyes. She looks feverish.
My entrails twinge with worry.
This isn’t good.
Fuck, this is so not good, I confirm a little louder in my mind.
I run one hand through my hair, pulling on the strands even though my scalp is sore from Shane’s sharp tug. It’s a good distraction to prevent me from falling into a pit of hysteria.
This isn’t how things were supposed to go tonight.
I had promised not to come back to Westbrook until Carmen graduated, but I did it to ensure nothing bad would happen to my sister.
Then, when I found out about my best friend’s arrival, I added her to the mission to keep them safe.
When the horrors started, all I cared about was making sure that Carmen and Cerys walked out of this without a hair out of place. That’s all I’ve wanted.
Now I’ve failed at keeping them from harm. They’re both hurt and I can’t do anything to help them.
I dread to think about what will happen next, considering we haven’t reached the climax of this slasher story just yet, but we’re getting close. So close my gums ache from clenching my jaw.
Cerys extends her hand to me, and I take it in both of mine.
Her fingers are cold to the touch, possibly from the pain she’s enduring.
I don’t want to think about anything other than the pain.
As long as she feels something, she’s not dying, right?
There’s no scientific logic behind the thought.
I just need to convince myself that she’s going to be okay.
“What happened?” I ask, even though I’m afraid to know the answer.
I can’t bear to hear how I’ve failed to protect her, but staying informed is also important. That’s the only way we’ll be able to figure out Cupid’s motive.
“After you left—” Cerys starts retelling her version of the events, but she’s struggling with the words as Bethan applies more pressure.
The clasp on my fingers tightens until my knuckles turn white.
“Carmen and I went to the kitchen and found the knives. Then we went to find you, but the killer appeared, and we got separated. I wandered around alone for a while, and then I found Bethan in the laundry room. We tried to find a way out, or one of you, until Danny found us.”
Danny stops searching for supplies in the kit and glances at me.
“I was looking for you.”
I wish it was bright enough that I could see his eyes.
The words make his voice hoarse with intensity and it tells me everything I need to know.
If he weren’t focused on helping Cerys, he would be scolding me for abandoning my place.
While it wasn’t a promise I actually made, he’s still holding me accountable.
“We tried to find you and Carmen,” Bethan continues as Danny begins to bandage the wound. “He came out of nowhere, stabbed Cerys, and moved on. It happened so fast that, if Cerys hadn’t screamed, we wouldn’t have noticed.”
Wait, what?
I blink as I process what they’re saying.
“He didn’t try to attack you two?” I question, pointing at Danny and Bethan.
They shake their heads.
“That’s the thing, he could’ve killed me,” Cerys adds through gritted teeth. “There was plenty of time to do it. Instead, he simply . . . left.”
I frown, confusion slithering under my skin.
Every time I’ve seen Cupid—or almost every time—he’s been consistent with the way he hurts people.
The only times he’s attacked without killing have been because his targets got away, like Carmen and I did when he stabbed her.
Otherwise, his lethal blows are delivered with speed.
He did it with Elodie, Leighton, and even Shane.
Going straight for the kill without wasting time with torture.
From what I can infer, he did the same thing with Ray, the guy Zelda mentioned.
But what they’re implying is that for some reason Cupid only cared about hurting Cerys without necessarily killing her. The question is why.
Why go out of his way to change his M.O. for Cerys?
Unless she’s a part of his end game.
Unless she’s the target . . .
Killing her too early would be a waste for him when she’s designed to be the last victim.
If she’s the goal, then what’s the motive?
I’m lost in my thoughts as I watch Danny bandage Cerys’ wound like an expert. I’m in awe of how calmly he deals with everything that’s been occurring, because I can barely keep it together.