Chapter 4 #3
Lucia shakes her head. “No, that’s on the second floor. I remember seeing it on the campus tour when I was still in high school.” She frowns and glances at Wren. “You saw him walk into the back library? On the first floor?”
Wren nods, and Lucia’s brows pinch.
“The one with guards posted outside it last night? That's crazy. I heard it was reserved exclusively for—”
“The Untouchables,” Wren blurts. “Yeah, it is.”
My heart begins to slam against my ribs, my breath shaky and halting across my suddenly dry tongue.
Galina frowns. “Wait, and you said the guy in the Scream mask—”
“Went right in,” Wren nods.
The floor shifts beneath me.
Lucia giggles. “So which of The Untouchables was walking around in a Scream mask?”
The black ooze floods my reality as invisible hands wrap around my throat.
The better question is, which of The Untouchables chased me through the dark with a hunting knife and made me come harder than I ever have before?
“Lochlan, maybe?”
Lucia’s gone back to her dorm to knock out some homework.
The four of us that remain are heading down the white gravel path past the old ruins of Hawthorne Hall.
Wren and Galina have a Poli. Sci. quiz next week they’re going to study for at Ravencroft Library.
And Arianna is meeting a friend from The Reckless at Knightsblood Commons, the dining hall, to catch up over a late dinner.
To my horror, the subject my friends have decided to talk about enroute is which of The Untouchables was “goofing around” in a Scream mask last night.
“I mean, he’s kind of a goof, right?” Arianna asks, meaning Lochlan.
Wren shakes her head. “Goof? I mean, compared to Jude, sure. But that’s not saying much.”
“Actually, would he really wear a Scream mask to his own party?” Arianna says.
“I don’t know,” Galina grins. “If my bone structure was that good, there’s no way I'd cover it up.”
I laugh nervously with the others.
Can I see Lochlan Kildare brandishing a knife?
For some reason, even though I don’t know him, I can’t.
“Ronan?” I ask hesitantly.
Was it Lochlan's younger brother?
Wren shakes her head. “Not tall enough. This guy was tall.”
Tell me about it.
“With like, really muscled arms and big hands.”
Heat pools between my thighs.
Yeah, really big…
“Were his hand and fingers tattooed?” Arianna the detective suddenly asks.
No, they were not, my inner voice says with authority. Trust me, I'd know.
Wren shakes her head.
“Okay, so not Drago.”
I shiver, thinking about the fierce, dangerous-looking Krylov heir. I start to exhale a shaky breath, when suddenly, the realization of what that means hits me.
Holy shit.
We’ve just eliminated all The Untouchables…except one.
No. Fucking. Way.
It can't have been Achilles.
He’s too…good. Too charming. Too much the golden boy of Knightsblood with a million-watt smile and movie-star dimples.
He kickstarted the new endowment at Knightsblood recently.
He was photographed on the red carpet screening of the latest Tom Cruise movie last spring with his great-grandmother as his date.
I try to swallow past the tightness in my throat.
“Well, case closed,” Wren shrugs. “It was Achilles.”
A heated sensation ripples through me.
“I don’t know.” I force out a nervous laugh. “Can you really see him walking around in a Scream mask?”
Or chasing girls through the dark with a knife, calling them little prey, and fingering their pussies to a screaming orgasm?
Wren giggles. “I mean, not really. He’s such a fucking Boy Scout.”
“For real,” Galina grins.
Arianna delicately clears her throat.
“What?” Galina says, turning to Ari when she suddenly stops walking.
Our friend’s face scrunches up. “Uh…you know what, never mind.”
Wren snorts. “Oh, as if. What is it?! Spill! Now!”
Arianna’s face burns. “Uh…okay, I’m going to tell you something, but you cannot say a word, promise?”
“Cone of silence,” Wren says firmly, zipping her lips shut.
Ari grins. “Okay, so…I’ve maybe sort of accidentally gotten access to my parents' master client list before.”
My eyes go wide.
Arianna’s parents, Dante and Tempest Sartorre, own and run Club Venom, a truly insane honest-to-fuck kink club in the city. It’s ultra-exclusive, catering mostly to mafia types with money and dark tastes. Obviously, I’ve never been, because as if I would ever go to a place like that.
The membership list is closely guarded. It’s also anonymous. Everyone wears a mask at Club Venom, along with—so Ari says—various colored wristbands that signify interest in different kink roles and fetishes.
I remember groaning if my parents would even kiss in front of me as a kid. I cannot fathom growing up with parents who run a fucking sex club.
“And??” Galina gasps.
Arianna glances at the three of us and chews on her bottom lip.
“Aaaand…Achilles is a member.”
My jaw drops.
“What?!” Wren howls with laughter. “Come on! Golden Boy Achilles is a member of Club fucking Venom?!”
Ari’s lips twist. “Yeah, uh… I don’t think he’s as golden as you think.”
“What do you mean?” Galina asks breathlessly, her eyes wide.
“Ugh, I really should not be saying any—”
“Ariiiiii!” Wren groans. “Come on!”
Arianna scrunches up her nose, then exhales. “Okay…” She grins mischievously at us. “So, I did peek at his profile one time. I mean, I was curious, you know?”
“Well, yeah,” Galina sighs. “He’s gorgeous. So? What's his thing?!”
“Is it peeing on people?!” Wren blurts.
“Eww!” Galina shrieks, slapping Wren’s arm. “Gross! Do not tell me if it’s peeing or shitting on people!”
I realize my breath is held, my whole body on edge.
I already know what he’s into.
But I want Arianna to say it's something different from what happened last night, so I can tell myself it wasn’t Achilles.
“Well?!” Galina groans. “Enough with the suspen—”
“Consensual non-consent, primal play, controlled dominance scenarios, and sadism,” she recites.
The four of us go silent for a second.
“Whoa,” Wren breathes.
“Holy shit,” Galina chokes. “I did not have Achilles Drakos being a sadistic Dom with a rape kink on my Bingo card.”
“You guys cannot tell a fucking soul, okay?!” Arianna pleads. “Like, for real.”
“Of course,” Galina assures her. “Right?”
“Right, definitely,” Wren nods.
“Lena?”
I swallow, barely hearing them over the dull thudding in my ears.
“Hello? Earth to Yelena?”
I blink and focus on the three of them. “Yeah, no. For sure,” I mumble.
I’m vaguely aware of them continuing to talk about how crazy this revelation is, but all I can really think about is that sensation that lingered between sheer fear and pure ecstasy.
The one I suppose I’ve fantasized about, but never actually experienced.
…Until last night.
With Achilles.
The Golden Boy with a chase and consensual non-consent kink. The charmer with a lethally sharp knife and thick fingers…
In a daze, my entire body trembling with nervous energy, I say goodnight to my friends before we go our separate ways. Then I start walking home to Morvaine, still numb.
The white gravel, illuminated in a ghostly glow by the half-full moon above, crunches under my shoes. An owl hoots in the trees that come up on my left as the path winds closer to them.
I stop when there's a glint in the darkness right in front of me. For a breathtaking moment, I think it’s a knife. And for a mortifyingly exciting millisecond, I think that means it’s him.
My poisonous fantasy.
My vicious thrill.
But then the wind gusts, and the glinting thing twirls.
I step closer, my brow furrowed, until suddenly my throat clenches tight, as if a fist just wrapped around it.
My whole body goes cold as I stare through the blackness at the little silver wolf pendant hanging by its delicate chain from a tree branch extending over the side of the pathway.
Then the soft, ominous crunch of a foot on the gravel behind me sends my spine snapping straight and my heart leaping into my throat in pure terror.
“We meet again, little prey.”