5. Saint
CHAPTER 5
Saint
I’ve been wandering around in this goddamn forest for at least thirty minutes. I don’t really know what I’m doing. If we don’t find her, Lex will call the authorities. I understand that he’s right, deep down, but I also know once they’re involved, we won’t get to see her again.
She’s become ours, in a way I can’t put into words, but which is vital and real. She can’t leave or be taken away. I won’t fucking countenance it.
Too many people have left me before. I refuse to allow her to be another in that long line.
Vani is ours, no matter what she says or believes.
We have no way of knowing what actually went down out here, and she might be wandering around concussed. Then she’ll be whisked off to a hospital and no way will her father let her back here.
I can take care of her. I’ll nurse her back to health.
Deep down, I know the possessiveness I’m feeling isn’t normal. Neither is the anger at her, bubbling away underneath the worry, ready to blow the minute I find out she’s okay.
The simple fact is that no matter what has happened to her, the minute the authorities get involved, I bet her father will take her away faster than you can say Venom . Then we will lose our poisonous little plaything.
I’m so angry at her for running that it hurts, a sharp ache in my gut, and a strange hollow in my chest.
How dare she do this?
How fucking dare she think the things she did? About us . It makes my blood boil.
I remember our motto, hot blood, hot thoughts, hot deeds . I need to cool myself the fuck down, but I just can’t.
She listened to those stupid girls and believed the stupid lies they whispered in her ear instead of coming to us.
It makes me question how smart she is. When we get her back, because I’m determined to find her, she is going to learn that you do not defy the Vipers. You do not listen to our enemies as they talk crap about us behind our backs. We let her into our circle. We let her deeper than anyone else, and she betrayed us.
She’s seen my paintings. She’s seen the dark heart of Zane, and she’s got Lex wrapped around her little finger, despite what he might say. No other girl has ever been in her position, and how does she repay us? She does something like this.
Not only does it risk us never seeing her again, but it risks e verything .
Zane has already faced his family discussing pulling him out of college, and if there’s a scandal around the three of us being with one girl, that might become a reality. We managed to keep the rumors about Reagan away from our families’ ears—mainly down to Dean Rossi’s involvement—but he has no reason to protect us from this.
Losing Zane now would be like losing a brother. Lex and I were always super close, as twins are, but we also had lots of issues and arguments. There were times when we were so hateful of one another we almost could have killed each other. Zane acts as a buffer. He’s the perfect referee—always getting between our fights. His presence somehow knits me and Lex together again. If Vani has gotten in the way of that with this stupid behavior, well, let’s just say she will learn the true meaning of torment.
I sweep my flashlight back and forth, growing increasingly sullen and rage filled. My throat is dry, but the air is damp. My bones are cold, but the blood is hot in my veins.
That song from the nineties about a Stupid Girl is going around in my head, an earworm that matches the anger of my mood.
She was going to throw it all away, was she? For what? Angelica’s fucking lies! That bitch has always had it in for me.
Something glints as I sweep the light on my phone over the undergrowth. Merde . I’ve already gone past it before it registers. I halt, mid-step, and move the light back in that direction. The flash of metal catches under the bright white of the beam. Frowning, I bend down and brush my fingers over the chain. There’s something at the end of it hidden under some leaves, and I take hold of the chain and pull.
Well, well, well. I grin to myself as I stare at the worn, silver cross. Why the hell would this be out here? I think I know exactly who this belongs to—Roman, one of the Preachers. The ground here is messed up and covered in footprints, too.
I saw Roman yesterday, and this cross was at his throat. He had to have lost it in a struggle, I’d imagine, for it to be on the ground.
Triumph roars through my veins and temporarily cleanses all that corrosive rage I’m carrying. I can guess where our little Venom is. The bad thing is who she is with.
Those masked fucking Preachers are freaks. Still, knowing Roman as I do, he won’t be doing the kinds of things to her I would. I’d bet my entire fucking wardrobe he’s using her to do some dumbass magic with, probably praying to Odin or something because he believes in all that bull so much.
He lives like a monk, and he does believe in the gods—old and new—hence him having this cross.
But he and his stupid hangers-on think they’re modern-day Vikings. The cross is an actual ancient Viking cross, and I only know so much about it because we had to give a talk on one thing we owned, and Roman chose his stupid cross. Now it’s mine, and I know he’ll want it back because it’s priceless and, to him, deeply personal.
He has something of mine, and now I have something of his.
Quid pro quo, bitch, I think, laughing to myself. I’m about to make a trade.
I set off at a jog in the direction of their meeting place, the old, abandoned water tower where we spent those interesting few hours with Vani.
If he does have Vani with him at the water tower, he’s probably doing some bizarre ritual with her, but I doubt he’s got her in his bed. He’d see that as going against everything he believes. I once heard a girl say she’d gotten drunk with him, and then stoned, but when they went back to his room, and she had made a move, he’d simply held her hands in front of her face like a prayer and started speaking in some weird language. She got really creeped out and left. I don’t fucking blame her.
They rarely attend college anymore, preferring to spend their time out here, and they roam these woods in their masks acting out their dumb shit Viking fantasies. I’ll fucking make sure they pay for taking Vani, but that can wait. Right now, I just want her back, safe and sound. So that I can be the one to torment her the way she deserves for putting me through this anxiety.
The forest around me thins out, and I know I’m nearing the clearing. When I get close enough for the illuminations of the building to peep through the trees, I turn off my light and pick my way through the undergrowth more carefully. I don’t want to give any of those idiots in there a heads-up that I’m coming. I fire off a text to Zane and Lex, letting them know where I am.
When I reach the door, I don’t bother knocking, but simply push down the handle and force my way inside.
Vani is standing in her underwear in the middle of the room.
My blood runs cold.
Fuck. Maybe I’ve got this all wrong.
But then I see all the herbs and what looks like confetti scattered in her hair and over her shoulders and the bandage on her arm. Roman and Malachi have their backs to her while they mess about with their stupid potions. They’re wearing their masks, but I know it’s them because of their build and hair. Roman is tall and lean and blond, Malachi is smaller, and wiry, and dark-haired, and Cain is the big motherfucker, but, thankfully, he’s not here.
Sensing my presence, Roman’s head whips around. “You!” he spits. “You don’t belong here.”
I ignore him and walk over to Vani.
She must be terrified, being taken by them while they’re wearing that crazy shit.
“Fuck off, freak,” I throw back as he walks toward me.
He merely smirks and keeps advancing.
I reach Vani and brush the mess from her hair and shoulders, then grab her clothes from the bed.
“Get dressed,” I order. I fold my arms, trying to be as intimidating as I can, so Roman won’t decide it’s worth a fight, because right now, I’m outnumbered, and I just want to get her out of here.
Her gaze flicks over my shoulder to Malachi as she begins to struggle into her clothes. I glance over to find he’s turned around and now has a big-ass knife in his hands. Merde. Out of the three of them, he’s the most unpredictable, and I’m grateful I only have two of them to deal with.
“You need to leave,” Malachi snarls.
“ Oui , I am, but I’m taking her with me.”
“We’re done with her,” Roman says. “You can go. For now.”
The words contain a warning.
I’ve invaded their private space, and they hate that. I wonder if they have any idea we were fucking Vani on that bed not that long ago. I note the sheet change and have to hold back a smile of satisfaction at the memory of their cum-stained black silk.
I’m more than aware of my vulnerability. I’m unarmed, and so is Vani. Perhaps I should have waited for Zane and Lex to arrive, but I hadn’t been able to stop myself. The thought of abandoning her with these two freaks for one more second was too much to stand.
She doesn’t say a word, but the relief in her eyes is clear. She gets dressed quickly, fumbling the clothes a few times. I never take my eyes off Malachi or Roman, other than to glance at her briefly. They are seemingly letting us go, and that is more than I expected. I’m sure they’ll try to pay me back at some point. It’s weird they seem chill about letting us leave, but right now isn’t the time to worry about that.
Silent tears slip down Vani’s cheeks. My heart softens, until I remember she brought all of this on herself. She endangered her life. She put my and Lex’s friendship with Zane in danger. She risked blowing everything apart because she believed idle gossip and bitchy girls. Stupid Girl , I remind myself. The song starts to run around in my head again, and I harden myself to her. She needs to learn a lesson, and my parents taught me one good thing in life, that lessons are never learned from a place of softness: my mother when she left, and my father with every punishment he ever gave us. They both showed me what happens if you don’t match up with what is expected. You get left, or you get hurt.
I’m not leaving Vani. And she’s not leaving us, so that leaves pain as her reward for this behavior.
I take hold of Vani’s upper arm, careful of her cuts and grazes.
I fix my attention on the two men. “You ever touch her again, and I’ll kill you both.”
“We didn’t touch her,” Roman says.
“She’s half naked, isn’t she, fucker?”
“She managed to do that all by herself.” Malachi pulls off his mask and flashes me a cheeky grin.
I stare at him, and something about that cocky smirk flicks my self-control switch to off. Lex always says it takes so much effort for me to maintain my charming persona that when it wears thin, it just snaps. Like a thread, it can’t hold and when that happens, all my planning, all my carefully calibrated charisma goes to waste as I lose control.
“ Motherfucker. ”
I lose it. With a roar, I run at them both, my worry about getting Vani out of here gone for now as my rage takes over. I barrel Roman out of the way with my shoulder and take Malachi to the ground. I smack Malachi’s hand against the floor until he drops the knife. He rolls, trying to reach for it, but I grab his neck and haul him back to me. Malachi might not be as big as I am, but what he lacks in brute strength he more than makes up for in speed and cunning.
A sharp elbow to my ribs winds me, and we both roll. He grabs my hair and pulls, sharp pain like a thousand pins stabbing into my scalp. I should have shaved most of it off like Zane. I bring my knee up sharply, connecting with his balls, and he lets out a wheezy yelp?—
Ice cold water drenches me, freezing the air in my lungs. What the hell ?
“Stop it right now!”
We’ve stopped trading blows as we gasp in shock at the icy cold. Standing above us, staring down like a mother irate with two naughty toddlers, is Vani.
“Saint, get up,” she says, low and angry. “I want to leave.”
She has just doused both me and Malachi with a whole ice bucket of cold water and half-melted ice chips. Some of the small chips twinkle in Malachi’s hair like mini diamonds.
“I like her,” Roman says dryly. “You can take her, Saint. We’re done with her now.”
“They should pay for what they’ve done to you,” I say to Vani as I struggle to get up. My feet slip in the icy water.
“Nothing. That’s what they did to me, Saint. Nothing. They took my hair, and then he dressed my wound. I want to leave, now .”
Her tone is sharp and no nonsense. The way she’s looking at me is different. It’s as if something in her eyes died.
They did do something to her in this room, but she’s not ready to say what, and the longer we stay here, the more danger it puts her in. I nod and take her hand. I think she might yank it back again, but she doesn’t.
Still, these bastards can’t think they can get away with this. As we walk by them, I snarl and grab a heavy glass bottle. The anger within me roars to life, friendly and comforting in its darkness. I aim the bottle at Roman’s head. He’s still wearing that stupid mask, and he raises his arm to defend himself. The bottle misses his skull but breaks against his forearm. Bright red appears against the white of his skin, and then drips on the floor.
“Clean that up, motherfucker,” I snarl with satisfaction.
“Please, Saint. I need to leave.” Vani tugs at my arm.
The glint of metal below my feet has me picking up the knife.
I’m aware that I’m being a fucking idiot, but I can’t seem to help myself. I hate that they’ve seen Vani in only her underwear, and that they’ve touched her bare skin. It makes me see red.
“Now who is in charge, huh?” I demand, waving it as I advance on Malachi, who has only just stood upright.
Roman pulls his mask off, and Malachi has already taken his off. They’re both so much less than without them, I think. At least now they look halfway fucking normal.
“Fuck you all,” Vani yells. “I’m leaving. You can stay here and fight, assholes .”
She storms for the door and leaves me standing here without her.
“Want to stay and party with us?” Roman says through gritted teeth, holding his arm against his body. “We can make it fun.”
“Yeah, we didn’t do anything to her, but it doesn’t mean we won’t to you. You’d look so pretty on your knees for us, Saint,” Malachi says with a laugh.
“I’m the one holding the knife, motherfucker,” I point out. I back toward the door. I’d have liked to have stayed and rearranged their faces, but Venom, goddamn her, has once again run from me and is out there in the dark.
That girl needs to be taught so many lessons.
Malachi shakes his head and turns to the shelving that holds all the bowls and glass jars. One shelf close to waist height holds a large metal cylinder container, and he dips his hand inside. I hold back a laugh, expecting him to spin around and blow fucking magical dust in my face or something.
“Yeah, but I’m the one with a gun in my hand,” Malachi says casually, turning back to me.
My eyes flick down to the weapon. Fuck.
Roman jerks his chin at the door. “Piss off, Saint, and go after your girl before she gets into any more trouble.”
There’s bad blood between us, and I don’t really know where it came from, but I hate them, and they hate me. It makes me wonder if they were the ones to start the rumor about us and Reagan. I finger the cross in my pocket and decide to keep it for now.
“When you least expect it, I will come for you fuckers,” I promise. “You’re such douches. Fake fucking wizards with your pathetic props.”
Malachi flips. I see the exact moment he loses it. I’ve run my mouth too far this time. He takes several long strides, the gun aimed directly at me, until he’s close enough to jam the muzzle against my cheekbone.
“Open your mouth,” he growls.
Jesus Christ, I don’t need this. I need to go after Vani.
“Fuck you,” I say, speaking out of the side of my mouth that doesn’t have a gun wedged against it.
He clicks the safety off.
I keep my lips firmly closed.
“Open.”
I glare at him. My heart thuds, but I refuse to let it race. I won’t allow this son of a bitch to affect me, even if he does have a gun aimed at me.
“Suck the gun, and I’ll let you go after your girl.” Malachi taps my lips with the barrel of the gun.
I need to follow Vani, so I open my mouth. He pushes the cold, hard metal between my lips. My jaw strains, and the tang of metal and gun oil coats my tongue. I pray he doesn’t pull that fucking trigger because then she’s out there alone again. It should bother me that I don’t care for my own safety, but now isn’t the time for a psych evaluation.
I hope Vani hasn’t wandered too far. This college has more than its fair share of murderers and violent thugs studying here. It’s not too far a stretch to imagine some of them would be more than capable of assault if they found a curvy little thing like her in the woods.
“Your lips look so pretty like that, Saint,” Malachi murmurs. He glances down. “You’re hard too, you sick puppy.”
I am, but nothing surprising there. I am sick, and I like danger. Right now, though, I need to get to Vani.
Woe betide Venom when I catch her.
I’m angry, jacked up on adrenaline, and hard as nails.