Chapter Four
Lilith
Idon’t feel so good.
Did I say that out loud? I wanted to. I crane my neck up at Tom to see if he’s going to reply. I don’t get an answer. He just keeps flailing around, doing terrible dance moves while the heavy bass from whatever song’s playing reverberates through my bones.
Watching him is like looking at photographs. There is no fluid motion. I’m getting one blurry frame at a time. He’s down one moment, in the air with his hands overhead the next. He’s laughing, singing, and dancing like he’s on top of the world.
Maybe there’s a reason for my confusion. Up until tonight, I’ve never touched an alcoholic drink. However, to solidify my place as one of them, I’d joined Tom for a drink. A shot of something bitter that lit my insides on fire and made my mouth numb.
If this is what being drunk feels like, I can understand the appeal. Not for myself, but for others who want to escape reality.
“Oh, shit, Lil,” Tom hooks an arm around my neck. “Are you okay?”
It’s at this point that I realize that my warped view wasn’t of him jumping in the air, but of me falling over. His hand goes behind my neck, saving me from smashing my head against the beautiful, gold-inlaid flooring.
I can’t answer him. My jaw’s too heavy to get full sentences out.
Broken syllables and incomprehensible gibberish are all I can muster.
What I am trying to say is, No, I’m not okay.
Nothing’s okay. I feel like I’m floating, drifting.
In that strange spot right before you fall asleep, half dreaming but still awake enough to know you’re not.
Tom gets me to my feet, and hooks one of my arms over his shoulder. His warm hand snakes around my body to help me stay upright.
“Let’s get you outside for some fresh air.” He’s right next to me, but his voice sounds distant. As if he’s shouting from the other side of a long, empty tunnel.
I can’t muster enough strength to nod my head.
He’s the one with experience. He probably has some tips and tricks that will fix me up right away. And if that means slogging one foot forward after the next, I’ll do it. Slowly and shakily, and while his echoey voice clears our way through the partying horde.
Before I know it, we’re outside. A chilly breeze cuts through the night and covers my exposed skin with a layer of goosebumps. I’m shivering, maybe even convulsing. In the state I’m in, the sensations are one and the same.
We walk further from the noise, away from the party and, slowly, my senses start to return. I’m heavy-headed, but even heavier footed, and I wouldn’t call what I’m doing walking. It’s more like stampeding through Tom’s backyard, trying to find stable ground.
Still, he’s a genius for suggesting we come outside. The cold mixed with the fresh air makes me feel better.
We trudge on for a while. I can’t tell where we’re going, but glimpses of my surroundings tell me we’re heading away from the mansion. We started in the light, and each snapshot becomes darker with every step.
I force my head to look back over my shoulder. Tom’s house seems so far away now. It’s twinkling in the distance like some heavenly oasis in the night.
“Where are we going?” I manage to stutter out the sentence. It takes too long to get the words out, and most of them are broken by slurs.
“Not far,” Tom says.
With what little strength I have left, I lift my gaze to his face. He has his hood up now and all I can see of his face is a lightly stubbled chin.
“Where—“ A salty ocean breeze strikes my nose, and I choke on the rest of my sentence.
“I need you to stay quiet now, Lil,” he says, and his voice is almost drowned out by the sound of breaking waves below the cliff’s edge. Fear mixes in with the swarm of sensations that are coursing through my numbed body. It starts as a pit in my core, knotting and tightening until I feel sick.
I try to scream, but my mouth is locked half open. A whimpering mutter is all that’s able to escape.
In the distance, I see a light. My vision’s too blurry to focus on the source, but it floods me with relief all the same. We must be heading back to his house. A walk didn’t cut it, so he’s going to call an ambulance and get me the help I need…
Like my mouth before it, the rest of my body starts betraying me. My legs grow too heavy to lift, and my arms are too weak to cling to Tom’s shoulders. My eyelids feel as if they’re weighted down by two heavy boulders, and keeping them open is as much of a chore as running a marathon.
Tom’s pretty much dragging me across the grass at this point.
“We’re gonna have fun tonight, Lil.” I know Tom’s the one talking, because there’s no one else around, but his voice sounds different. Not the same distant sound, but deeper and more echoey.
I have to swing my head to the side to look at him. When I do, the pit in my belly releases a wave of tendrils that coat every awake nerve in my body with fear.
I don’t see Tom’s stubbled chin beneath the hood.
Instead, what I see staring back is a blank white mask.
The expressionless visage sends a shiver up my spine.
Normally that would be a bad thing. But to me, it’s more like a reassuring nudge that says that although I’m not fully in control of it, my body still works.
As we approach the light source, however, I regret feeling relieved. I couldn’t be more wrong about where we were headed. We’re not back at Tom’s place; we’re in the middle of nowhere. What I mistook for the bright lights of his home are really flaming torches, stuck into the ground.
Worst of all, we’re not alone.
The others from the party, who were dressed in the same robes, are also standing on the cliff’s edge.
They begin a chant on our arrival, a phrase that’s repeated in a language I don’t understand.
My guess would be Latin, but with how my head’s feeling, I wouldn’t be surprised if English sounded foreign at this point.
Tom leads me behind the men looking over the water, to a stone table that’s behind them. In my state of disorientation, I hadn’t noticed that my surroundings had changed. I’ve moved from being in a garden, to being surrounded by trees, in what can only be described as a flash…
Literally in this case, since that’s all my eyes are willing to take in. Flashes of a world that should be moving freely.
“You don’t have to be afraid, Lil,” Tom says, guiding me onto the table.
He lays me down gently, one hand on my shoulder, the other behind my head. The surface is hard and jagged, and it digs into my skin. If my body weren’t so numb, I’m sure it would hurt.
The others approach us once I’m set down.
Tom steps back to give them space. Each one moves to a different corner of the table, their rhythmic chant and unending flurry of sound.
Tom begins to motion with his hands. He’s not speaking, but the guys around us seem to understand the message he’s conveying.
They move in unison, closer to me. They stop at the corners of the table as one. They press their palms together in prayer. Finally, they bow down in unison and then stand upright again. Each has something in his hands.
“Know this, Lilith.” Tom’s only ever used my full name once. The day we met, and before I insisted that friends call me Lil.
If it weren’t clear already, hearing my name pronounced in a harsh and nasty snarl, tells me no good can come of this.
“You’re honored to be here. To be chosen. Rest now, knowing that you are a worthy instrument in fulfilling our mission.”
Oh, fuck. Misha was right. Whatever happened to Jenny Morgan is about to happen to me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
Each one of the four men lifts one of my limbs. The two above grab my arms just above the wrist, the others below the calves. The item they collected from the floor was a rope, but I only realize that when they’re fastening a loop around my wrists and ankles.
Tom speaks again, but this time it isn’t directed at me. It’s in the same unknown language, while his friends finish binding me. He starts chanting with them when I’m bound.
Making his way to the bottom of what I can only assume is an altar, Tom stops at my feet. He runs an eager hand up my fishnets, growling eagerly at the feeling of my skin against his fingertips.
He stops shy of my upper thigh, slapping my flesh the way you would a beef roast still in its packaging.
Still following whatever customary ritual action is driving him to do this, Tom extends his arms out in a Christ-like pose.
The two guys at the corners of my feet walk over to him and tug his brown robe off his shoulders.
It falls to the floor exposing his naked body beneath.
The sight makes me want to puke. It finally dawns on me what’s about to happen here.
Well, fuck that. I’m not going to…
I cut the thought short, knowing there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Trying to wriggle results in me barely moving my arms and legs an inch away from their starting spot. I’m powerless, and it’s made worse by realizing that what I’m feeling isn’t being drunk.
I’ve been drugged.
Shouting is my best way of getting out of this. Perhaps I’d be lucky enough to catch the wind, and it would carry my voice back to the mansion. But I don’t have enough in me to try. I slip through the states of lucidity and unconsciousness.
“I told you, didn’t I?” Tom asks, moving closer to me. “You’d get to see me without a shirt on.”
He grabs my ankles and parts my legs, giving himself enough room to crawl onto the table. He rests on his knees, looking left and right at the four men who are willing to help him with this heinous act. Their chanting stops momentarily when Tom’s in position.
Standing there, unmoving and unspeaking, I could mistake them for statues behind those masks.
“My brothers, for centuries the Eye has worked to reach this moment. To achieve this ultimate goal. Tonight’s the night our vision comes to fruition.
” He leans forward while addressing the four, and places a kiss above my brow.
I try turning my head to stop it, but my muscles refuse to listen. “Let the ceremony commence.”
With his pronouncement, the chanting starts again. The four men grab each of the ropes that are tied around me and walk back, until my arms are pinned down and legs are spread wide.
“I wasn’t joking, Lil. You look fucking incredible tonight,” Tom says, shuffling closer to me on his knees. “You’re everything I could’ve hoped for and more.”
An unwanted warmth radiates from my breast. It takes my brain way too long to catch up to the feeling that it’s Tom’s hand cupped around it. A purr of satisfaction rolls through him while he squeezes it.
My heart feels as if it’s lodged in my throat, which makes my short, shallow breaths so much harder to endure, knowing there’s nothing I can do to stop him.
“St… St…” Shivering, stuttering, I can’t get a word out. I’m heavy-headed and a thick film of sludge coats my mind. I’m barely able to stay awake, let alone protest these transgressions.
“Don’t worry.” His fingers run down my chest and belly. “It’ll all be over soon.”
His hand stops between my legs, brushing eagerly against my sensitive thighs.
“Sto—“It’s closer to an actual word, but still not there. Defiance is almost impossible as my mind drifts deeper into the sea of sludge.
Tears well in my ever-blurring eyes. They are panicked bullets that pour down my cheeks at the thought of what’s about to happen.
Jenny Morgan. This is why her family left.
They were too afraid to stand up to Maxwell Henderson and his armada of lawyers, so they chose to vanish, after Tom and his friends had their way with her.
I bet Tom drugged her. Used her. Discarded her to the wind without a care in this world. Now it’s my turn.
The predator has become the prey.
All the while, the others continue to chant.
I watch Tom’s filthy hands begin their unholy work.
He hooks a thumb below my bodysuit’s crotch, tugging at it gleefully.
But as there’s no stopping him, he’s not rushing to the main event.
It’s almost as if he’s enjoying this. Loving every second of screwing with the helpless girl on his table.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Why you sent me dirty texts and paraded around campus like a good little slut?” I hear no remorse in his voice, just excitement. “Funny, isn’t it? Getting what you want. Having me be the one who breaks your virgini—“
“No,” I finally manage to get something out. “Not like this.”
“Too late, Lil,” Tom groans, grabbing the base of his cock in a firm right hand. The other moves away from my breast and settles on my hip. “We’ve come too far. I have to complete the ritual.”
He thrusts forward and the tip of his cock brushes against the leather of my cat suit. He hasn’t exposed me yet; he’s still enjoying the fucked up thrill and torture of it all.
But before he goes any further, the world stills in an almost unnatural manner. I hear the sound of two cracks, that echo and reverberate against the trees and vanish somewhere far over the ocean beyond.
The two guys above me stop chanting, and the rest are quick to follow. There is silence, hollow and empty. It’s so quiet now, I can hear my heart thumping in my ears.
Then, I hear a voice. It’s not Tom, nor one of the chanters. It’s someone new.
“Have to is such a strong phrase to use,” the voice says. “Admit it, Tom. You want to do this.”
“What the—” Tom spins to face the man who’s interrupting his wicked deed, but he doesn’t get any further than halfway before a sharp, silver blade pierces the front of his chest. Red warmth trickles over my outfit as Tom begins to sputter and gargle.
His body slumps to the side of me, revealing the man who saved me.
I shudder before the last semblance of consciousness flutters through my mind.
My savior is wearing the same white mask as the rest of them.