Page 10 of Mutual Prey
I convinced Daddy my intention was purely to protect myself. But honestly, I came here to gloat. To soak up the fear, the cluelessness, the stupidity.
My smirk feels plastered on as I mingle with first one group, then another, and hear that the main conversation isn’t sports, or grades, or even sex. It’s me.
That is, the Dark Devil.
But the surge of happy pride is dampened somewhat by the fact that my other two reasons are nowhere to be seen.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I glance at the screen.
Daddy: Be a good girl, now. Don’t come home too late. Curfew is strictly at 11 p.m. If you’re late, I’ll have to punish you.
I quickly type my answer, making sure no one can see—I’m aware that most people might find this relationship I have with the man everyone in town believes to be my father a little odd. Even odder than the whole killing thing.
Cass: Don’t worry, Daddy. I’ll be on time. You won’t have to punish me.
Daddy: Okay.
Daddy: I might just punish you anyway.
What’s even odder is the effect those words have on me. I squeeze my thighs together as I continue searching the backyard for my two other reasons.
“Look who’s there,” a girl nearby whispers audibly. “I can’t believe Cass freaking Henley showed up. She always acts like we’re shit on her shoes.”
That’s because you are, I think to myself.
I turn lazy eyes toward her, and she blushes and turns away. I don’t remember her name, but I do know she’s the most popular girl in school. I’m glad my icy blue eyes have the power to make her blush. She’s never looked embarrassed by anything or anyone other than me.
“Hey… whatever your name is,” I say, wandering up to her.
She looks around in confusion, then back at me. “It’s Hannah.”
“Yes. I don’t have much memory for random names.” I smile sweetly at her, and she looks like she’d love to strangle me, but doesn’t dare. “Is Piper around?”
She scoffs. “Piper? As in Piper Day? No one would touch that girl with a ten-foot stick. She’s poor, ugly, stupid, lame—”
Her voice trails off as she catches sight of my expression, and she quickly turns away.
I guess that’s my number two reason for being here, and I’d rather admit that than number three. I should have known, when I heard about this party, that my unpopular lab partner wouldn’t have been invited.
I’ve come to realize that I’m the only person who talks to her. If talking can describe the few words we occasionally exchange. Still, she doesn’t annoy me as much as the rest of the school. She doesn’t put on an act or care about her image. She doesn’t try to hide that she’s—well, exactly how Hannah described her. Poor, ugly, stupid. Still, I did want to see her. I guess it gets kind of lonely, being a serial killer. It’s strange to realize it, but science class is the bright spot of my week. And it’s because of her.
Because she’s the closest thing to a friend I have. A girl who sits next to me and whom I speak three words to every two weeks.
Sighing, I enter the house, determined to at least find out about reason number three before leaving. The music isn’t as loud in the living room, but there are more people, and I get jostled around as I try to cross the room.
“Holy shit! It’s Cass! Having fun, Cass? Want some beer?”
“No… thank you. How about some ecstasy?»
“Oh, damn. I didn’t know you were down to party like that. Finn’s upstairs in my room.”
And that’s number three. Not the drugs. The guy.
I tell myself, as I walk up the stairs, that I’m not actually interested in him. And yet, he does have a strange effect on me.
Ever since he started participating in the drug trial at Devil, I’ve been thinking about him far too much. I’m interning there, and I get to administer the Valeron, and his stupidly buff forearm occupies more of my thoughts than I’d ever admit.
I need to see him again, outside of school, outside of Devil, just to get rid of whatever stupid fluttering sensation I get whenever I set eyes on him. I’m sure that in this drunken cesspool, I’ll see him exactly as he really is—a drug-addled moron who’s not worth a second of my time.
