Page 56 of Temptation
The House of Mirrors? Who the fuck was this guy?
“I’ll see you around.” He winked and went out the door. For the first time since he helped me out, I felt like I could breathe. My lungs expanded, letting the air flow.
“Who was that?” A voice came from behind me, and I jumped, almost shrieking.
“Jesus fuck, Danny,” I exhaled. “You scared the ever-loving shit out of me.”
“What’s wrong with you?” He narrowed his eyes.
“Nothing,” I answered too quickly, and that didn’t go past him.
“Skylar—”
“I just didn’t sleep well, so I’m a little jumpy.”
“Riiight,” he drawled, but he didn’t ask any more questions. “I haven’t seen you in forever,” he continued. “Where have you been?”
I was about to answer. I was about to tell him about the meeting, about the wedding and everything in between, but something told me to keep my mouth shut. Why did Rowan keep him out of the meeting?
* * *
Three classesin and I regretted coming to school today. I forgot that most of the parents of these kids were part of the Order, and I didn’t miss the longing glances some of the professors were throwing my way. I remember seeing some of them that night, but most of the other faces were blurry, and I was thankful I couldn’t recognize them.
Kane and Rowan watched over me like two hawks, and I was getting tired of throwing annoyed glances at them every now and then. Hailey kept going on and on about prom next year, and what we should wear, and why nobody told her that Lauren moved away.
I almost threw up when she mentioned her name.
I didn’t miss the remorseful looks Kane and Rowan exchanged either. I excused myself when Hailey started asking questions I couldn’t answer. Maybe others were better versed in this game of pretense, but I couldn’t stand there, throwing lie after lie, when I knew Lauren wasn’t among us anymore. And it was all my fault.
Yeah, maybe they made me do it, but I should’ve tried to stop them. I should’ve said no, but I was too shell-shocked to stop myself. I was too scared to attempt getting us out of there. What was I supposed to do? Judah was there, and God knew what he would’ve done if I disobeyed his orders in front of the entire congregation.
So I sliced through her skin as if she meant nothing to me. And I hated myself.
I rushed down the hallway, passing next to students who looked at me with curiosity in their eyes. I knew what they all thought. I was probably going mental, and maybe I was. Maybe all of this was enough to push me over that tipping point. I was neck deep in this shit, and being in school, pretending that life went on, was the wrong thing to do.
I should be out there, looking for clues, for anything that could destroy Judah. I should be trying to stop their sick minds from destroying other innocent lives, yet I was in school, studying for the future that I might not even have.
I rounded the corner on the second floor, right next to the chemistry lab, when the scent I knew infiltrated my nose. Ash appeared in front of me with a grim look on his face. My mouth opened, trying to form the words, but he pulled me with him, holding onto me like a lifeline.
We went through the students, next to the professors who would probably report this back to Judah if they were part of the Order, and down the stairs, to the ground floor.
“Where are we going?” I asked. But he just looked at me and continued walking. “Ash!” I tried to pry myself free of his grip, but he only increased his hold, until we came to the door that led down to the basement.
“No. Nope. Hell no!”
He was breathing hard. His chest rose and fell as if he just ran a marathon, and I had no idea what was going on through his head.
“You don’t get to do this, Ash. You don’t get to disappear one day and reappear on the next one, as if nothing happened.”
We stood there, two stubborn minds battling against each other. A growl tore from him, and faster than I could react, he had me over his shoulder.
“Ash!” I screeched, but nobody ever came to this part of the school. Even janitors steered clear of the basement.
And I understood why.
Winworth Killings, as the press named them, didn’t start happening with Dylan and me. Twenty-five years ago, they found three bodies, spread on the walls in the basement, with their severed throats and wide-open eyes. Twenty-five years ago, killings started, and if I didn’t know about the Order, I would think that the serial killer lived among us.
But I knew better.
