Chapter 11
Eleven
Blair
The doors slammed shut behind us, and I flinched so hard that I felt it in my jaw.
Staring ahead, all I saw was the unwelcoming darkness, punctuated by the low lights surrounding the university’s grand fountain. The stone steps looked steeper than they had when I climbed them days ago.
My gaze tracked the long drive stretching toward the steel gates.
The only way in.
The only way out.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my thoughts returning to the night I’d arrived at Saint Vale.
The chilly downpour. The gloom. That unsettling feeling.
I’d stood in this exact spot, soaked and alone, thinking I’d reached rock bottom. I had no idea that’d turn out to be the most peaceful night I’d have here.
Only a few days had passed since my stepfather’s driver had dropped me off and left me here, but it felt like an eternity had gone by.
Taking in shallow breaths, I scanned the fountain and the long drive beyond it, my gaze refusing to drift toward the devil behind me.
There was no need to look. I felt every inch of his suffocating presence.
His smell, his breathing, his nearness.
It all sent warning signals through my body.
I chewed on my bottom lip as I tried to decide which was worse—being trapped with Enzo inside the university or out here with him.
Both felt like different versions of the same slow death.
I hugged myself, shivering, and wished I’d changed out of my pajamas. But it wasn’t like I’d known we were going outside when Enzo asked—no, demanded—I take a walk with him. I’d assumed we’d go to the hall or library.
How naive of me to forget what kind of devil I was dealing with.
The chances of Enzo dragging me into another underground torture chamber were higher than him taking me somewhere normal.
Enzo shoved me forward, nearly knocking me down a step. I lost my balance and tumbled forward. Just before I fell, he grabbed my elbow, steadying me.
I recoiled, my footing unsteady at the edge as my heel skimmed it. For a second, I teetered there, caught between controlling my balance and falling.
He released my elbow, and then, in a flash, his hand caught mine.
A single second passed. Then two. Silence hung between us like a ghost in the night.
His hold on me was different than in the woods.
No cold leather glove. Just his bare skin.
The devil’s hand felt warm, rough, and disturbingly human.
As he led us down the stairs, our shoulders brushed with every step. He laced his fingers with mine, and my pulse jumped.
Enzo had ulterior motives for taking me out here.
He either planned to kill me or convince me to keep my mouth shut.
If killing me was his intention, then he’d get away with it. Arisono and the rest of the university would bury any evidence against him.
My shoes scraped against the stone as I stepped down to the ground. Enzo guided us along the winding path toward a cloister wall.
Once we stepped far enough from the lights, he stopped. My hand slipped from his as he turned me, reached for my waist, lifted me as if I weighed nothing, and sat me on the stone wall.
He jumped up beside me with a grunt, close enough that his shoulder brushed mine. His body heat seeped into me.
I breathed in his scent mingling with the night. I turned toward him, but the darkness hid most of his face.
All I could make out were the sharp angles and shadows across his cheekbone and jaw.
Goose bumps pebbled my skin as my attention drifted back to the steps. My throat tightened as memories of that first night returned.
Maybe I hadn’t imagined someone watching me.
Maybe it had been him.
He slung his arm over my shoulders, drawing me closer, as if we were two close pals rather than the hunter and the hunted.
“Now, Blair,” he said.
If I were stupid—and I could admit, coming out here with him was stupid—I might mistake this for something, dare I say, gentle.
But I knew better.
This was an impostor Enzo. Just another one of his masks.
No one sane flipped between warmth and cruelty that easily.
My eyes snapped shut as his fingers trailed up my neck, slow and deliberate, like a spider searching for the perfect spot to sink its fangs.
I didn’t say a word. Didn’t dare to make a move. Just waited for him to continue.
“I think we got off to a bad start,” he said.
I choked back the scoff burning up my throat.
I am alone with a killer and need to keep my composure.
My sarcasm could come back later.
I swung my feet against the wall. “You think?” I raised a finger. “Our start was you cutting my hair.” Another finger joined it. “You kidnapped me.” A third finger. “And forced me to watch you torture Jett.” I held up my entire hand, displaying my palm. “And then you cut me.”
“Jett?” he asked, saying his name with confusion that’d make any sane person question whether they’d dreamed up the entire scene.
This devil. He was a master manipulator.
“Jett,” I repeated slowly. “The guy you killed.”
“The kid who unfortunately jumped out of a window?” He scratched his head, as if genuinely searching his memory. “I’ll have my mother send flowers to the family. How tragic.” He splayed his hand around my neck, his thumb finding my racing pulse.
I gulped. “A tragedy you caused.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them.
Why would I remind him I was a witness?
If he did lure me out to murder me, I’d just reminded him of his reason.
He didn’t react to what I’d said. Didn’t even flinch.
“Are you going to kill me like you did him?” I whispered in a shaky voice.
His thumb stayed on my neck, resting on my pulse, but he didn’t apply more pressure or move it.
It was like he wanted to feel how every word affected me.
“I didn’t kill him,” he said.
“I was there.”
My truth was useless. What I’d seen meant nothing. It was his word against mine, and his was worth more. He knew it just as much as I did.
“Quit making up stories about me, Blair. It’s not courteous.”
I snorted softly, turning my neck to free it from his hand.
The loss of his warmth felt almost suffocating.
“Don’t you think it’d be fair that you get to know me before passing judgment?” he asked. “I don’t believe everything I hear about you.”
I turned my head toward him in panic. “What have you heard about me?”
He smirked. “Nothing I’d judge you for.”
“I don’t want to know the real you,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “I wish you’d never sat behind me. Wished you’d never cut my hair for whatever sick reason you justified in your head.”
“This is where I first laid eyes on you,” he muttered in a low voice.
“What?” My voice cracked.
His fingers slipped beneath the collar of my coat, lowering the fabric just enough to let his icy fingers brush the side of my neck.
“When you first arrived at Saint Vale, I watched that asshole abandon you here and then watched you climb those steps in the rain.” He leaned in, his mouth edging toward my ear. “That’s when I decided you were mine.”
“I don’t want to be yours.” I hated how frail my voice sounded. Hated how tight my gut knotted.
“Too late. You’ve already piqued my interest.”
“Not my problem.” I lifted my chin. “Find another interest.”
A low chuckle slipped from him. The first one I’d heard leave his lips that wasn’t frigid. “That’d actually create a bigger problem for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your life depends on being my Fawn.”
All air nearly left my lungs right then. “What?” I stuttered out that one word in three breaths.
“Jett fucked you over from the moment he opened his mouth. No one learns about the Night Sons and lives long enough to talk about it. You were never supposed to know. You’re an outsider.”
Everything suddenly felt colder and darker.
To stop myself from crying, I stared ahead, wishing the night would swallow me up.
“He handed you a death sentence,” Enzo said. “So this is the time you stop pretending you have a choice, Blair.”
My breath hitched. “And if I refuse?”
“You die.” He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to.
He was also done hiding the Night Sons’ existence.
That was now the power he had over me.
Something inside me snapped, and I jumped off the wall, landing hard on the ground. My heart raced as I stomped away, finding my way back to the steps that led to the entrance.
My stomps broke into a run when I heard Enzo behind me.
The faster I could escape him, the better.
Neither he nor the damn Night Sons would determine my fate.
My lungs hurt, and the wind stung my cheeks as I raced for the steps, but it still wasn’t enough.
Enzo caught up with me quickly, his large hand closing around my wrist, and yanked me around to face him.
I stared at him, hatred burning my bones, as he held me in place.
His nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw.
“You can never outrun me, Blair,” he said, his cut and callous palm cupping my face, forcing me to look up at him. “You can never outsmart me.” He dragged his thumb over my lip, inching closer. “I’ll always win. I’ll always find you.”
Panic snapped through me, and I struggled to break free.
His grip turned stronger as he steered me away from the steps toward the fountain. I twisted, fought, and dug my heels into the ground—every move so similar to how I’d acted when he grabbed me in the woods.
If anyone else was outside, no one came to my rescue.
Enzo moved with smooth ease, with a madman’s calmness, as if my resistance was no more than a mild wind drift.
With each step closer, the fountain grew louder.
Its lighting cast a glow over the carved, round basin of dark stone. Three tiers rose from its center, and water cascaded from one level to the next.
So beautiful, but also so cold.
Fitting this place perfectly.
He forced me down to my knees beside the basin and wrenched my hands behind my back, pinning me there as the stone edge painfully jabbed into my ribs.
“Last chance, Blair.” He squeezed my wrists together. “Commit to being my Fawn.”
The urge to shout, Never! rocked through my thoughts, but I held back.