Chapter 5. Lorena
lorena
As soon as his mouth moves in, I jab my knee into his groin—and to my utter shock, the demon stumbles.
Then I run for my life.
I expect him to catch up at any moment, but my legs somehow keep me moving as I hurtle toward the tunnel that brought me here. My heart is pumping so hard that I’m surprised it hasn’t given out.
When I’m nearly inside the passage, I can’t help looking back to see if he’s close—
And I gasp at the sight of glowing purple eyes.
The monster looks like he’s used up the last dregs of his energy because he’s slid to the floor, his back slumped against the wall. But when I try looking away, I can’t.
His stare seems to be physically locking me in place.
My legs have stopped moving, and I want to scream, but I have no voice.
It feels like I’m no longer in charge of myself. Someone else has taken over my controls.
“Come here.”
A velvety soft and seductive voice invades my mind. I feel a sudden pull on my muscles, and to my horror, my limbs begin to move in the wrong direction.
I try to resist, but it’s as if the demon’s will has found a way to override my own. I don’t want to go to him, but my traitor legs carry me closer, until I’m standing before him.
“Sit down.”
My heart belts out in desperation as I obediently lower myself to the floor. Once level with his face, my breath catches in my throat as I stare at him from up close.
His skin is as smooth as porcelain, brand-new and untouched like the texts of this library. Yet most striking of all are his eyes, which look like they were cut from actual amethyst.
“Expose your throat.”
I try and fail to scream again.
Not being in control of myself is harrowing, and the harder my heart beats, the more animated his gaze grows. Like he’s enjoying my fear.
I force every cell of my being to fight his command, but it’s useless. I gasp as my trembling fingers reach up to unzip my hoodie, baring my neck to him.
The demon traces every inch of my skin as it’s revealed, and my chest feels so tight that I’m not sure I’m breathing. I part my lips to swallow a lungful of air—
Daggers rip my throat.
I cry out in pain, my whole body burning, like my skin has been set ablaze. The monster crushes me to his mouth as he drinks, and I can’t even attempt to fight for my life because my body isn’t mine anymore.
It’s his.
My head pounds with desperation, until it feels like my neurons are being switched off, one by one. I’m going to die here … alone and in secret … murdered by a real-life—
The pressure disappears.
I grow suddenly alert as the demon falls to the ground, convulsing as if my blood has poisoned him. And without waiting to see what happens, I run.
Adrenaline must be powering me, because I’m flying.
I don’t slow down or look back as I race up the passage toward the wardrobe.
Its doors have been left open, and I leap into the dusty room and keep running until I reach the sitting area.
The velvet rope has been knocked over, probably by my friends, and I crash into a large body.
I suck in air to scream, and a hand covers my mouth again.
I kick and shove and bite down on someone’s finger—
“Ow!” a guy cries out. “Lorena, it’s us.”
It takes me a moment to recognize Trevor. Three other shadows rush up behind him. “There you are!” whispers Salma. “We nearly made it all the way to the tower when we realized you weren’t— Are you okay?”
It’s too dark to see much, but I’m sure my eyes must look wild. My heart is hammering in my ears, too hard for me to speak.
“I—I—”
I suck in a breath to try forming the words, but in the silence, I hear it.
Footsteps.
Trevor yanks me down to the floor, and the five of us take cover behind the nearest couch, right as we hear a voice say, “There! I thought I saw something move.”
“I did not see anything,” says the director’s deep voice. A beam of light shines across where we had just been standing, and I don’t even dare to exhale.
The light keeps moving, dropping lower until it illuminates the very top of Trevor’s curls. Shit. Minaro must’ve spotted us—
“I do not see anyone,” says the director, to my relief.
“There were voices,” the teacher insists.
“Maybe they heard us coming and went ahead to the dining hall.”
None of us move until their footsteps fade, and then Trevor darts out and replaces the velvet rope. Good thing that flashlight didn’t land there, or Minaro would have seen that it was knocked over.
I zip up my hoodie to hide my wound as we hurry down the hall. Salma, Tiffany, and I split from the guys without a word, then we cut toward our tower.
I desperately need to change my pad, but I’m terrified the demon will come after me. I still haven’t decided what to do when we reach the bathrooms, and to my relief, both Tiffany and Salma rush inside like they can’t hold their bladders, either.
The lights flicker on, activated by our movement, and they rush into stalls. “Holy shit,” says Salma after closing her door. “That was terrifying.”
“I know, right?” says Tiffany, speaking over her stream of pee.
I’m about to enter the next stall when I catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror. I barely recognize the girl in the glass.
My eyes are so round with fear they’re nearly popping from my skull. My curls are frizzy and puffy, as if I’ve just been electrocuted. And there’s blood smeared across my neck.
I grab a paper towel, wet it, and wipe my skin until all that’s left are two small puncture marks. They look like bugbites. And yet, when the demon bit me, I felt like my entire throat was being shredded.
I hear a flush, and I dart into a stall, not ready to be seen in this light.
“Lore, you okay?” asks Salma.
“Y-yeah,” I say. “Just have to change my pad.”
“Do you need me to bring you one? I’m going to run up to get my toothbrush and makeup remover.”
“Same,” says Tiffany.
“I have one in my pocket.”
“What took you so long to follow us?” asks Salma, and I see her combat boots in the gap under my stall door.
“I—I slipped.” I can hardly believe I’m saying this. I’ve never lied to Salma before.
“Did … was someone … in there?” she asks softly.
Every punch of my pulse feels like an earthquake.
“I don’t know,” I hear myself whisper.
After a long pause, Salma says, “I’ll grab your toothbrush,” and I hear the door swing open as she and Tiffany head upstairs.
I try not to think about the fact that I’m in here alone.
They’ll be back any second.
Still, my hands are shaking so hard that it takes me a moment to throw out the old pad and stick on a new one. After what just happened, the sight of more blood makes me feel lightheaded, so I just sit on the toilet with my head in my hands.
Then I hear the bathroom door whoosh open.
“Lore?” calls Salma softly. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, almost done.”
“I’m going to rinse off,” says Tiffany, and I hear a shower faucet turn on. “I’ll be quick.”
“Same,” says Salma, and a second shower goes on. “Lore, I left your toothbrush on the counter next to my toiletry bag.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, and once it sounds like they’re both showering, I grab my toothbrush and dart up the stairs.
I change into a long T-shirt that falls to my knees, then I shut off the lights before crawling into the lower bunk bed.
There are no curtains, so even in the dark, silver light floods the room. I stare past Tiffany’s bed and beyond the floor-to-ceiling window to the black canopy that holds up the crescent moon and twinkling stars. The real world feels far, far away and out of my reach.
It’s like upon entering this manor, we’ve stepped into a different universe.
A universe without phones or internet or parents.
A universe with secret rooms and blank books and monsters.
Come here.
The demon speaks so clearly in my memory that it feels like he’s in the room with me.
Cold sweat trickles down my face, and I burrow so deep under the covers that I have to take bigger breaths to get enough air. I still can’t process what happened tonight. It can’t be real. It’s more likely I had a break with reality.
The way he controlled my body, as if it belonged to him. How did he do that? Why is he here? Could he really be a—a—
But I can’t even think the word.
It’s too outrageous to consider.
The door swings open, and I hear Salma and Tiffany come in. Even under the covers, I inhale a waft of floral scents, and I peek out to see Tiffany setting her toiletries on the dresser, her hair wrapped in a pink silk bonnet. Then the edge of my mattress is weighed down as Salma lies next to me.
Our faces are close together, and as we look at each other, this is the first part of tonight that feels normal.
“What happened earlier?” she whispers in the semidark.
I can see the whites of Tiffany’s eyes as she looks our way, watching and listening intently. If I say that word out loud, she will know I’ve lost it. And if she tells anyone else, soon it could get around that Viviana Navarro’s daughter is a messy attention-seeker.
“Nothing,” I lie again. “I’m tired.”
The mattress reinflates as my best friend stands up, and after a few minutes, the wood above me creaks as she settles into the top bunk.
Even though she’s only a few feet away from me, the board between us feels like an unscalable wall.
This is the first secret I’ve ever kept from Salma.
THE SUN tickles my eyelids, and as I blink them open, I’m rewarded with the breaking of a majestic dawn.
My eyeballs feel itchy and my vision is blurry at the edges. I spent most of the night awake and on guard.
Any time I started to pass out, I would startle back up, convinced I sensed something. It feels like I’ve managed to get only an hour total of sleep. Yet as I watch the reborn rays stretch across the spruce forest’s treetops, what happened last night starts to feel as flimsy as a dream.
And maybe that’s what it was.
I don’t feel any soreness in my neck. Maybe I imagined the blood and the mind control and the demonic boy from the portrait.