three #2
When he doesn’t move, I force myself to edge forward enough to peek around the side of the house to see if he’s searching for the shadow he glimpsed.
A man I’ve never seen stands at the foot of the steps, searching through his keyring.
After a second, he draws a key apart and ascends the steps, his gaze intent on the door.
He definitely didn’t see me, or he’d be more suspicious.
I melt back in relief, watching him from my hiding place.
He’s tall and slender, with glossy chestnut brown hair and darker skin than the Sinners.
A few fine lines around his eyes combined with the shadow of stubble on his jaw tell me he’s not a student here.
I’d put him around thirty. His sharp, angular nose, chin, and widow’s peak give him a severe look, but also an alertness, like a fox.
I shrink back into the shadows when I hear his key in the door.
His footsteps are too distant for me to hear once the door closes. I’m considering my options when I hear a voice that sounds like it’s directly above me.
“What are you doing here?”
I jump a mile, twisting around to look up, sure I’ll see someone hanging out the window, accusing me of snooping. But the old, thin pane is closed. I sink down again, my heart skittering.
“My uncle told me to come check on the place,” says another male voice, this one slightly muffled, as if it’s coming from across the room.
“Dad?” asks the voice directly above me, a younger one that’s not as deep.
“No, dumbass,” says the older man. “Uncle Julian. Why would your dad call me?”
My mind races to put the pieces together. Uncle Julian must be Julian Sincero, the father of the seven Sinners on campus. Which means the speaker is a Sincero cousin. I shiver and shrink against the wall.
“Why did Julian call you?” asks the younger guy.
“Something about suspicious activity.”
“That’s me,” says the first voice, and though he doesn’t call the other guy a dumbass in return, his tone definitely implies it. “If he’d bothered to look at the hundred security cameras he had me install, he’d know that.”
I gulp down my nerves and scan the area above me for cameras.
“Maybe he did. What are you doing here, anyway? And why are you sitting in the dark like a creep?”
“Security prep for the party.”
“Are you even going to the party? Doesn’t seem like your scene.”
“Are you?” the guy near the window challenges. “Seems just like your scene.”
“True,” the older guy muses. “But I probably shouldn’t fraternize with the students. Then again, this is a college, so they’re all legally adults…”
There’s a sharp clunk, like something being set down on a hard surface. “How the hell did you get into seminary school? You’re the least godly man in existence.”
“Same way you got in here,” says the guy with the deep voice, sounding smug. “They’ll take anyone nowadays.”
“I guess that’s what happens when you’re desperate to stay relevant to the next generation.”
“Are you talking about me or the Catholic Church?”
“Works for either one.”
“Okay, you little shit. I’ll leave you to it. Don’t skulk too hard in the corner if you go to the party. Someone might notice you exist.”
“Oh, people know I exist. Not everyone has to dance half naked on a table to get attention.”
“That happened once. Christ. Let it go.”
There’s a quiet snort above me. “Thankfully, I was spared from seeing it with my own eyes more than once, but you forget how many more eyes I have around town.”
After a pause, a deep, rich laugh rolls through the room. “What can I say? I know how to have fun. You should try it sometime, cuz.”
I hear his footsteps retreating, and I squeeze my eyes closed, my heart racing again.
Cuz. Cousin.
That means one of the Sinners is still in the house.
Crap, crap, crap!
I hear the door close, footsteps across the porch, and inside the room, more footsteps and then silence. He must have gone into another room.
I breathe a sigh of relief, then carefully unfold my legs, turning toward the window. I grip the sill and lift myself slowly, until just my eyes are above the sill, peering in. On the other side of the glass, a pair of eyes stares directly into mine.
With a shriek of surprise, I jump back, stumbling on the edge of my skirt.
I fall clumsily onto my hands, and behind me, I hear the soft squeak of the window rising, and then a body leaps onto mine.
In one motion, he flips me over, his hands clamping around my wrists, his knees gripping just below my armpits, his weight too high up my body for me to buck him off with my hips.
I open my mouth to warn him that he really doesn’t want to fight me, but I register in the darkening twilight that it’s not one of the Sinners.
“Nate?” I ask, blinking up at the long-lashed doe eyes behind his glasses. “Nate Swift?”
“I see my reputation precedes me,” he says, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “No table dancing required.”
“Want to get off me?”
“Want to tell me why you’re spying on me?”
“Not particularly.”
“Then I guess we’re at an impasse.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I say, and I twist sideways.
He’s stronger than I expected for a guy his size, scrappier than he looks, his muscles wiry and tight.
It takes a full minute to reverse positions.
When I have him pinned, both of us are breathing hard.
I’ve been on the ground with girls in the pit, and it’s essential to know the way out of at least the common holds, but I’m better with my fists, where precision matters more than brute strength.
Nate stares up at me, his big, milk chocolate eyes slightly unfocused, his glasses having been knocked off during our tussle.
I’ve only seen him from afar, so this is my first close encounter.
I notice a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks, and realize he’s cute, with his loose, unruly curls and that smile and those eyes.
He’s not my type, but I’m surprised I haven’t heard rumors about girls chasing after him, considering his mysterious genius reputation and that he’s pretty easy on the eyes.
“Well, this is unexpected,” he says, no longer trying to free himself as we assess each other.
“You didn’t think girls could fight?”
“I didn’t have Angel North’s girlfriend sitting on my penis on this year’s bingo card.”
“I’m not—Angel is not my boyfriend,” I say, my face heating.
“But you are still sitting on my penis.”
“Sorry,” I blurt, jumping up and backing away.
Nate sits up and squints at the ground, patting across the dirt for his glasses. “No worries. It was… Interesting.”
Apparently there are still innocents on campus, even if I can’t count myself among them.
Finding his spectacles at last, he sets them back on his nose, albeit crookedly, and climbs to his feet.
The ground is wet, and we’re both still damp, dirty, and disheveled after brushing ourselves off.
We survey each other for a moment. Now that we’re not nose-to-nose, I see why he’s unremarkable enough to slip under the radar for most girls.
I wouldn’t have noticed him from afar either.
He’s average height, of a slight build, and his brown hair and brown eyes aren’t going to catch any eyes from across a room.
Add to that the slightly standoffish, aloof aura that surrounds him, as if he’s a step removed, even when it’s just the two of us.
Being an outsider myself, I know the feeling well.
“So, you’re the Sinners’ cousin,” I say awkwardly, since too long has passed since either of us spoke. I remember Saint saying Nate was connected to the Sinceros and therefore we can’t trust him.
“My cousin is their cousin,” Nate corrects. “I’m just here doing a job that needed to be done.”
“What if I needed you to do a job?” I ask. “Could I trust you to keep it quiet?”
While I have more reason to trust Saint than a guy I just met who has connections to a family that might have made Eternity disappear, I also need to protect myself from my brother.
I won’t entrust Nate with the search for Eternity, but I don’t know anyone else who can make sure what happened with Angel doesn’t happen again.
I need someone on my side, and if I can’t get that, then I need a neutral party.
“Discretion is why people hire me,” Nate says.
“How much do you charge?” I ask, eyeing the vintage Rolex on his wrist.
“I don’t need money,” he says. “But you can pay me in other ways.”
I decide he’s not quite arrogant enough to pull off a smirk after all. His is more of a secretive smile, just the hint of one. My stomach dips, but I try to keep my expression placid.
“I don’t think that would be safe,” I say. “My guys—my friends—the guys…” I stumble over my words, not knowing what to call them. “They’re… Possessive.”
“You think I want sex?” Nate asks, looking bewildered.
“You said—”
“I said I don’t take cash payments,” he says, holding up a hand, like he can’t bear to hear me repeat his words now that he knows what I thought he meant by them.
I remember then that Annabel Lee said he doesn’t take sexual favors. Maybe I chose the wrong guys, because I can’t imagine my guys wanting anything else from a girl. I’m no better—I can’t think of anything else I have to offer that Nate Swift would want.
“Right,” I mutter. “Could you see if there are any hidden cameras in my room?”
“Sure.”
“They put them there,” I say. “Will they hurt you if you remove them?”
Nate actually laughs, though it’s as quiet and understated as his smile. “No,” he says. “They wouldn’t dare.”
“You sure about that?” I ask, a bit skeptical at the thought of this fairly insubstantial boy fighting off even one of the hard-bodied guys who have laid claim to me.
He smiles, that mysterious little grin again. “I know all their secrets.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It would be, if I didn’t know how to trigger the release of certain information at key events such as my death. So, now you know all about me. What about you, Mercy Soules? Why are you spying in the windows of Sinners Tower?”
“I got curious.”
“About what?”
“About them,” I say, gesturing vaguely at the gabled roof and arched doorway. “I’ve heard so many things, but I’ve never actually talked to them.”
Just knocked a few of their teeth loose.
“No one is here now but me,” Nate says. “When school starts back, you can satisfy your curiosity at their Sinners Bash. The security is top-of-the-line.” He pushes his glasses up and gives me a goofy grin, and I decide I like him, despite our rocky start.
There’s something both endearing and unsettling about him, the combination of elements that should be at odds with each other but somehow coexist in him—awkward yet cocky, earnest yet secretive, able to afford thousand-dollar shoes but not noticing that one of them is untied.
“What are you doing on campus during break anyway?” I ask. “It’s New Years Eve. Don’t you have parties to go to or something?”
“Don’t you?”
“Touche,” I say, laughing uncomfortably. “So… Want to come over and spend a thrilling evening searching my room for hidden cameras? Or is that weird? That’s weird, right? On New Years Eve? That’s lame. Never mind.”
“Weird is my favorite kind of evening,” he says, with that ghost of a smile that carries just a hint of sadness. “Lead the way, O’ Merciless One.”
My heart stops, but I decide it’s just a coincidence. There is no way this rumpled-chic geek knows anything about an underground fight club on the seedy side of town.